James Siena’s tightly compressed abstract paintings, drawings and prints are recognizable by their raw, pulsating and obsessively patterned compositions. His latest show at Pace Gallery is a total departure. At first, one wonders if the name on the gallery wall is a misprint. Installed in an enfilade of galleries are clusters of sculptures—some large and bronze or wood, others just inches high and constructed out of grape stems, toothpicks and glue. The latter works—frequently titled with people’s names (some obscure, such as Lisa Randall and Bruce Sterling, and others bold-faced, like Dorothy Vogel, Richard Feynman and J.G. Ballard)—form dense abstract geometric shapes echoing the kinetic zap of Siena’s 2-D works. Casually arranged on tables resembling studio desks, these intricate, palm-size skeins of wood feel precise, like an artist’s maquette, and anarchic, like a Dymaxion dome on the verge of collapse.