Hovering somewhere between a mini-golf course and a rug emporium, Nora Schultz’s solo exhibition at Campoli Presti is a peculiar presentation. It is a quiet show, filled with careful arrangements of office carpets and rubber mats, partially hung from strings and paired with found objects. The space serves at once as showroom, production plant, parcour, and storage unit. Despite the apparent order there is the suggestion of disturbance, as if the works were caught in flagrante, interrupted in the act of producing themselves—something they will surely continue to do so just as soon as one turns one’s back. The works are suspended in treatments, folded, layered, cut apart, dipped into paint, and even imprinted onto one another, doubling both as stencil and canvas. They occupy an interesting middle ground between artwork, material, and medium—apparatus and outcome. Schultz’s artworks are inclusive production sites, vertically integrated scenarios incorporating setting, media, and production method. For this show, the artist succeeds through taking herself out of the equation, that is, the performative stunts for which Schultz is known for are missing. She appears here rather as an invisible engineer who has orchestrated the infrastructure that allows the materials (forgive me) to produce themselves. Knowing her …