Galleries:

Is there anything Ann Agee can't make?

You have to wonder, walking through Agee's second one-person show at Locks Gallery, "Kitchen Sink," which has almost everything, and a kitchen sink. Simply put, it's an installation of Agee's arts and crafts that merges her domestic life and studio practice, as such artists as McDermott & McGough, Colette, and Izhar Patkin have done - except that Agee has made everything you see.

Here are gleaming white porcelain sculptures of intricately fashioned human figures and flowers. They look like 18th-century collectibles until you see that said humans are in fact present-day characters doing all manner of contemporary things, and that she has also included a few lifelike porcelain fetuses; huge paintings on paper, like theatrical tableaux, depicting the interior of her Brooklyn studio in bold Matissean strokes and colors; dresses sewn by Agee composed from her own exquisitely patterned hand-printed fabric; platform shoes in Fiestaware hues; wall-mounted assemblages of Agee's porcelain plates; enormous glass jars she molded and filled with her homemade marmalade; and that elegant wall-mounted ceramic sink, among other things.

A viewer might logically wonder if this is Agee's meditation on her own existence as a hardworking New York artist and wife or a send-up of the Martha Stewart aspirational lifestyle. I think it's the former - an appreciation of the independent woman who can make everything she needs. Whatever the case, I marvel at her amazing handiwork.

Though at first they resemble three-dimensional views of interiors of buildings, Paul Fabozzi's colored pencil drawings are as much about the land his buildings inhabit as about their architecture. They're also very much the product of his impressions of places, intended as psychological and emotional interpretations of buildings and their sites.

In his one-person show at LG Tripp Gallery, Fabozzi offers the kinds of drawings he has shown here before, but his contemplative images of combined multiple perspectives have the entire gallery to themselves this time, and seem to draw the gallery's own minimal architecture into their orbit. Seeing this work in a monastic atmosphere, uninterrupted by other artists' efforts, adds to its understated appeal.

All the buildings Fabozzi has channeled in his latest works are in major cities in the United States and abroad (New York, Rome, Istanbul), but the one he has devoted the largest number of drawings to is the Corviale, a hulking, modernist low-income housing complex outside Rome that he visited in 2007. In his renderings, colored diagonal lines divide the picture plane, much like the shadows and catwalks he saw intersecting the building's imposing concrete walls.

Jury Smith's and Doug Herren's ceramic sculptures couldn't be less alike - Smith's works are serene and otherworldly, Herren's are hyperactive and playful - but they share a similar scale and weightiness and occupy their allotted spaces in the main gallery at Snyderman-Works Gallery in a way that complements their differences.

Smith's dome- and mound-shaped works look like islands in the Caribbean or off the coast of Maine, with adjoining horizontal stripes or triangles of separate glazes suggesting the light and atmospheres of land surrounded by ocean.

I thought Herren's assemblages of machinelike parts were exactly that - found metal parts that he had painted in colors I associate with old-fashioned wooden toys. But they are constructed from sectional ceramic parts that Herren builds, paints black, and then covers with sign-painter's paint. A final steel-wool rubbing gives them their "vintage" surfaces. Herron displays his works on ceramic and wood tables (which he also makes) whose industrial-era shapes and colors echo those of his sculptures. But they would stand quite nicely on their own.