It was through Philip Smith that Bove came to be aware of Harry Smith (no relative), well-known in the US but less familiar to Europeans, who pursued a range of idiosyncratic activities at the intersection of visual art, ethnomusicology and film-making (1923-1991). And it was through Harry Smith that Bove encountered the work of poet, artist and kabbalist Lionel Ziprin and his wife Joanne, with whom he frequently collaborated. In the late 50s and early 60s, the Ziprins ran a studio called the Qor Corporation; at Maccarone, one half of Bove’s two-part exhibition is dedicated to its archive (Qor Corporation: Lionel Ziprin, Harry Smith and the Inner Language of Laminates). Geometrical tile designs are hung on the walls alongside vitrines of mathematical notes and mylar samples. The checklist is extensive, but the room feels strangely empty. All these abstract shards of mysticism, so full of meaning for their makers, are less than rivetting today, especially when stripped of their eccentric kabbalist exegeses. Titles like Tree of Life read like new age relics, or worse, evoke Terrence Malick.