Only the biggest party-poopers weren't impressed by last year's New Museum installation of Wim Delvoye's Cloaca, a Frankensteinian contraption that—when "fed" food twice a day—mechanically and chemically recreated the human digestive process all the way to the bitter end. Now, the Belgian artist has pumped up the dump with Cloaca Turbo, a supercharged poop-making machine—currently on view at Centro per l'Arte Contemporanea Luigi Pecci in the northern Italian city of Prato—that produces a constant stream of excrement. "It's an industrial version of what you've seen in New York," Delvoye says, explaining that its New Museum predecessor only performed once daily. "It has a 250 liter capacity, which is a lot, and that ends up in 40 kilograms [about 90 pounds of waste] spread throughout museum hours." It's the latest in a body of work that includes oddities like gas canisters decked in Delft porcelain and stained glass windows paned with erotic x-rays, all aiming to bring together the high and low or, in this case, the technological and biological.

Everyone from Robert Altman and Michael Stipe to a half-naked, body-painted boy with stuffed shorts came out for the Halloween night opening of Pierre Huyghe's Streamside Day Follies at Dia:Chelsea. And then the walls came closing in. In the installation, five large motorized, ceiling-mounted wall panels draw together to form a pavilion-like theater for which the 2002 Hugo Boss Prize winner and 2001 French representative at the Venice Biennale created a short film. But don't expect any big-eyed cartoon babes here. The anime-associated artist has come up with a short that chronicles the formation of a fictional community in the Hudson River valley, ending as the pavilion pulls apart again, iterating the creation (and dissolution) of communal identity both inside the gallery and out.

On the heels of his major retrospective at the Tate Britain this summer, Turner Prize alum Wolfgang Tillmans returns to New York with a show at Andrea Rosen gallery. However, less apparent here are the youth culture, soft porn and still-life photos that the fashion-savvy photographer is better known for. Instead—with such exceptions as a rear-view scrotum shot—a greater emphasis has been put on abstract, non-representational works like two largescale images that are only vaguely suggestive of the landscape of the body.

A bare-breasted geisha, a man caressing a bountifully-nippled brunette and the bottom halves of Aer Lingus stewardesses are just some of the subjects portrayed in John Wesley's latest show at Fredericks Freiser gallery. For decades, the veteran painter has worked in a cartoon-like manner marked by cotton candy colors and playful lines, and this exhibition is no different. Focusing on couples and coupling, it once again shows Wesley's propensity for mining the American popular consciousness to create oddball, humorous and tense images within his singular visual language.