The ensemble is black, its outstretched arms with cascading sleeves held above a voluminous skirt. This is no conventional odalisque — no seductive harem girl displayed in the imperialist Turkish manner of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, nor a concubine laid out on an upholstered daybed, like Edouard Manet's combative "Olympia. The earlier silent movie's flat projection screen is here pushed into the three-dimensional white cube of a contemporary art gallery. The self-portrait that results is wholly distinctive yet utterly anonymous. She's faceless, stripped of identity. The work unpacks socially constructed biases toward women in general and artists in particular, then delivers a visual raspberry. Hammer curator Ali Subotnick, working with the artist, traverses nearly 25 years not through chronology but through echoes, repetitions and revisions among art objects. Think Goya's satiric Capricho etching of chairs sitting atop women, rather than the other way around, which inspired several Stark works. In fraught matters of human interaction, the work is a marvel of clear-eyed equilibrium. Rudimentary talking avatars court a fall from grace in pop-up Eden. A visitor curls up on a chic gray sofa to read black texts projected onto three surrounding white walls. But sequestered in a warren of rooms, it felt chopped up and impermeable — disconnected rather than porous. Collage, which has been around for a century, is her analog staple in our digital world. Advertisement The exhibition is large. Marriage has long been treated as a mechanism of assimilation in the anthropological literature on diasporic Chinese: Intimism," a smaller focus show last spring at the Art Institute of Chicago, also included compelling work — some the same as what's in the Hammer exhibition.