Butt massages are now available at John Connelly Presents, courtesy of artist AA Bronson. A member of the 70s and 80s art collaborative General Idea, Bronson has installed all the accoutrements necessary for the New Age-y form of therapy, which zeros in on the anus, including a massage table upholstered in the kind of red bandana fabric that was code in 1970's gay subculture for a fisting fetish. Bronson became a self-described healer after the AIDS-related deaths in 1994 of his two General Idea partners, with whom he lived and worked for 25 years, and his butt, as well as tantric, massages are available at the gallery by appointment (men only).

Atelier van Lieshout, the Dutch group led by bad boy Joep van Lieshout, has arrived at Tanya Bonakdar gallery with Humans, Machines and Body Parts. AVL's irreverent provocateurs—who declared a "free state" around their Rotterdam headquarters in 2001—have created sardonic works that assimilate the body, the machine and the organizational mechanisms that seek to control them. Drawings diagram the workings of an imaginary society whose citizens are compelled to eat burgers and drink beer to produce the optimal amount of fecal matter. And two sculptural installations, The Mini Alcohol Installation and The Multi-Funnel, subject humanoid forms—deprived of any other discernable features—to the vats, drums and force-feeding funnels that together describe an extreme, though not completely baseless, scenario in which biological, mechanical and political processes take hold of the human body.

The Dunnys have landed. Kidrobot, the company whose trendy vinyl dolls have been popping up everywhere, has commissioned fifty artists and designers to doll up its vaguely bunny-shaped Dunny character for a show at Visionaire gallery. Tapping everyone from artists Alexis Rockman (whose Dunny is pictured left) and Jessica Stockholder to fashionistas Diane von Furstenberg and Heatherette, as well as graffiti artists, industrial designers and illustrators, the new and improved Dunnys range from tagger Doze Green's post-apocalyptic-looking creature, with its rusty Cor-Ten finish, to von Furstenberg's abstracted logo Dunny.

Artist Mark Flood's new paintings at American Fine Arts are vibrantly colored canvases on which pieces of lace have been painted over and then removed, leaving only the traces of their pattern and texture. Not intended as an exercise in sentimental attachment—though the conspicuous absence of the grandmotherly lace might suggest otherwise—these works also offer a less obvious interpretation. The lace, after all, has been ripped and shredded, ravaging its delicate Victorian fussiness just as its pure whiteness has been spoiled by kaleidoscopic hues. At the same time, their destruction lends itself to a constructive beauty, a process that takes freakier form in the back of the gallery, where collages done by the artist in the 1980s are shown. Here, Flood, who once worked at a record store, took promotional posters of the likes of Don Johnson, Annie Lennox and Michael Jackson and, seizing upon their mass-consumptive ubiquity, cut several apart, only to reassemble their subjects in bizarrely mutated form to perhaps reflect the often outrageous self-reinvention of celebrity itself.

For his first solo New York show since his much-ballyhooed 2001 exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, German photographer Andreas Gursky is presenting ten new large-scale works at Matthew Marks gallery. From a panoptic view of a penitentiary in Illinois to a panorama of a Madonna concert in Los Angeles, these photographs—which include others taken in Mexico, Japan and Holland—continue the peripatetic sharpshooter's documentation of the relationship between the individual (both seen and unseen) and the collective within a globalized context. Both overarchingly grand and inconclusively localized, they monumentalize human activity to both overpower the single person while insinuating its role in something bigger than itself. At the same time, Gursky achieves this with the kind of formal skill that lends absurdly dry objectivity to a high-rise cattle "ranch" outside Tokyo, for example, or brings a painterly quality to the plowed soil of a soccer field in Amsterdam.