Zelmira Rizo-Patrón at CENTRAL FINE

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The aura becomes overpowered, illumination at 600hp. Everything begins to blow out, dissolve, etherealize, until paint becomes markings in virtuality. The mechanized halo becomes the ground to reality, its connection to power.

Hadi Fallahpisheh at CENTRAL FINE

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Ah the virtualization of our white space made manifest with a blown out shutter. Letting the light in. That vertigo you feel when the floor falls out, little rooms traded for infinite white void, us floating. This is the world Fallahpisheh draws in photographically, would be the read here. But this is the world we all draw in, this is our world, this is just more literal.

Jose Zuniga at Central Fine

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Gaugin covered his pedophilia in colors more tasteful than the brashness of van Gogh or even Cezanne. Perhaps erupting in syphilitic sores made promiscuous color seem gratuitous, requiring some restraint, some decorum. A fear of wonton rashes expressing itself in total palette control. And so Gaugin's color is academic, goody two shoes, annoying.
The obvious Schutz references probably have as much to do with who is being stolen from as anything, and its nice to see things stolen.

Andre Pierre at Central Fine

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Devotional paintings, with the spatial depth of the iPad's home screen, allusive uploading to metaphysical planes, and all those icons arranged across that plane, an interface for that extra-dimensional locale that we plug into - "projections broadcasting their qualities onto this plane" - as our discarnate selves: "the priest, like the painter, is perhaps the manager of both realms," which, like app developers, are the most contemporary paintings.



See too: Emily Mae Smith at Rodolphe Janssen, Julien Ceccaldi at Jenny’s, “Äppärät” at Ballroom Marfa, Jana Euler at Galerie Neu & Portikus, Julien Nguyen at Freedman Fitzpatrick