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The unending loveliness of these, that, even we must admit, are good, technically adventurous and ripple with sex. Variance in finish shimmer like veins in marble or cocks, undulating detail as arousal: detail is attention paid, stimulation, titillation. For anyone who ever found eroticism in the restraint and rigidity of Piero della Francesca, here is your proof melting with Althoffian foppishness. These things bruise sex out of their flesh. Paintings with the depth of early video games while retaining the material pleasure of scuzz: a man smeared in choking purple softness, and legs splayed. Get close to his pink hand. There have never been more homoerotic paintings than these.
See too: Julien Ceccaldi at Jenny’s