Inaugurating this gallery’s new space in Chelsea, “Parts of a World,” an exhibition of Sharon Horvath’s most recent work, included 20 paintings on canvas, or on paper mounted to canvas, in dispersed pigment, ink and polymer.

An elegiac mood pervaded this exhibition of works in various mediums by Portland artist Pat Boas, a former critic for Artweek, Art Papers and artUS. Several of the serial projects use the New York Times as a source. Given the current twilight of newspapers, the artist’s meditations on the publication’s archive as communal memory stir feelings of nostalgic regret.

Like perfect pitch, a gift for painting affects different people in different ways. Norbert Schwontkowski mostly shrugs it off. Born in 1949 in Bremen, he is just a few years younger than Anselm Kiefer, and something of that scenery-chewing artist’s polar opposite.

A cross between a magician, a mime, a comic performer in the mode of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, a theatrical impresario and a high priest, Stuart Sherman was a well-known figure in the downtown avant-garde scene from the late ’70s through the early ’90s, when his career was cut short by AIDS. (He died in 2001.)

Entering either the second or fourth floor of the Whitney to see “Roni Horn aka Roni Horn,” a retrospective co-organized with Tate Modern in London, viewers were greeted by one or another version of This is Me, This is You (1999-2000), two wall-size grids of 48 portraits of Horn’s niece Georgia vamping for the camera.