There’s apparently a new development in which artists such as Sarah Braman (b. 1970) include acknowledgments, like writers do at the end of novels. In the press materials for her industrially luscious show, it’s noted that “the artist would like to thank Steve Grant for his patience and skill in welding, Nina Weyl and Seth Coen for their tireless and careful sewing, Barb Hadden for so much studio help, Mom and Liz for all the babysitting, and Saul, Jody and Phil for being the best home team.”

I’d call Sarah Braman’s show at Mitchell-Innes & Nash a breakthrough were it not for her slow and steady ascent. You Are Everything, her first solo New York City exhibition in five years, presents a newfound ease with her material, a gracefulness in both subject and physicality I hadn’t noticed before. It’s as if she had traversed the messy, awkward, early stages of self-conscious invention and emerged on the other side, fully confident and in total command.

A few blocks north of Sarah Braman’s exhibition “You Are Everything” at Mitchell-Innes & Nash is a rare sight: A defunct and shuttered McDonald’s restaurant on the corner of 34th Street and 10th Avenue. The title of Ms. Braman’s show comes from a graffiti tag on a similar-looking structure — red, yellow and white — in a rural location, a photograph of which is printed on the news release.

Sarah Braman's sculptures and paintings are at once monumental and ethereal. She explores light and space with spare forms and a nonchalant, almost cavalier, manipulation of materials. Nothing she does ever seems over worked or overwrought. In her fresh and airy 3-D works, she combines found objects, often abject detritus, with carefully constructed forms made of tinted glass and steel.

Sarah Braman, sensational sculptor.

In this solo show, Braman embraces a sort of dilapidated but still-loved found-sculpture aesthetic, assembling in beautiful agglomerations with tinted glass; wonderfully colored fabrics; and unruly discarded furniture, household items, and cut-up plywood. She arrives among Rachel Harrison, Mike Kelley, Richard Prince, and Donald Judd, putting a marker down as one of the strongest sculptors working anywhere. —Jerry Saltz
Mitchell-Innes & Nash, through April 16.

Although the title of Sarah Braman’s latest solo exhibition is You Are Everything, the artist believes that there is, perhaps, a more appropriate title, one that better captures the spirit of her new work.

“I think the unofficial name for the show should be Driving, Sleeping, Screwing, Reading. It turned out that a lot of the sculptures either include beds or actually are beds where you can lay down,” Braman says. “My husband told me the studio looks like a sci-fi, post-apocalyptic tent city.”

New York-based artist Sarah Braman makes quirky sculptures by marrying found objects, constructed elements of colored glass and Plexi and oddly shaped pieces of plywood bearing brightly colored acrylics and spray paints. For her second solo show at the gallery, the artist uses a tree stump, a trashed truck cab, discarded bunk beds and fabricated glass structures to create eccentric assemblages.

Looking at the artworks of Sarah Braman, one can get a feeling that she’s like someone who is able to see certain things in a completely different way than regular folk. For instance, that sectioned old camper trailer is, indeed, exactly what it sounds, but it is also an artwork, placed on an art gallery floor like it’s always belong there, without any doubt. The truth is that the artist puts found objects together, in the manner of a proper Neo-Dadaist, creating art that is somewhere between sculpture and assemblage, ready to be contemplated by a contemporary viewer. Sarah Braman’s new sculptural works and panel paintings are soon going to be gathered for her first solo exhibition in New York in five years, hosted by Mitchell-Innes & Nash.