One of these days, Norman Andersen's oven is going to plot his gruesome demise. You wouldn't guess its bloodthirsty intentions by studying its appearance, which Andersen fashioned by reassembling the oven from found parts. The appliance sits just outside the local sculptor's kitchen, looking voluptuously plump and complacent, its four square doors shining a cool silver. Circular windows heave up from each door's center like a ship's portholes, coaxing Andersen to peek inside. But deep in the oven's belly, a small light glows a sinister red. It's a warning: The beast... More >>>