With berserk glee, Bercowetz plunges into the pell-mell of pre-politics, where nascent activism and thuggery meet. He takes his cues from the German Anti-Fa movement--skinny punk rockers who bring out the knuckles on skinheads--and Tupac Shakur. It is an in-your-face engagement with macho juvenilia, an all-out, all-over collision of images, objects and bad words.
The space of the gallery is dominated by five large sculptures, among them, a "bamboo" podium enshrouded in fog and encased in a plexiglass crystal; a totemic, flinstone-modern video surveillance tower; and a merzbau-like behemoth, suggestive of a desert outpost, complete with its own fountain. They are bricolaged primarily of recycled, low-grade materials, painted black, white, brown or day-glo, and bristling with elements of drawing and collage.

Mounted on the wall or on rudimentary stick scaffolds surrounding the sculptures are further works on paper-- magic-marker drawings, collages and paintings. They reference a storm of personal, political, countercultural, and art world icons, from Bowie knives to Ted Nugent to nationalistic Scandinavian Black Metal, Bas Jan Ader, militia compounds, the Bush clan and social protest movements.