This central array is surrounded by ink-like washes of dark gray and black oil paint, which drip down each side.
Its evocative construction stranded me somewhere between a 15th-century jousting shield and the unique barkcloth mask structures of the Kairak Baining people of New Guinea.
In Arena 1977 for instance, his bifurcate lozenge shapes get chiseled into what look like opposing Rapa Nui idol heads, painted in burnt umber over an aqueous light blue-green.
Yet it was also that carefully crafted, gemütlichkeit appeal which simultaneously turned me off at that time, a more urgent, fulcrum moment when painters such as David Salle and Julian Schnabel were historically manifesting an apposite, post-historic sense in their paintings.
He is an Editor at Large at The Brooklyn Rail, contributing articles and criticism since 2012.
The closer the scale of his paintings to a torso, the more bodily tension they tend to exert.
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