by Andy Brumer
![]() Brian Novatny, Man in Grey Suit & Yellow Chair, oil/watercolor, 25 x 13, 2000. ![]() Brian Novatny, Woman in Yellow Shirt Suspended, oil/panel, 11 x 13, 2000. |
(Frumkin/Duval Gallery, Santa Monica) Young New Yorker Brian Novatnys oil and watercolor on panel paintings present emotionally ambiguous, psychologically charged figures set in small, claustrophobically cropped spaces. He starkly renders men and women with a blend of American primitivism, European mainstream modernism and Eastern European folk art. They are caught in mid-stride in various positions of walking or gesturing. On the borderline of minimalism, every inch of these works resonates with mystery and complexity. In one painting, for example, a stout Leger-like woman, rigid and flat in form and stultified in motion, wanders somnambulistically away from a voluptuously puffed red love seat. The chair seems so animated, it wants to pivot on its four legs and retreat in an opposite, more joyous, direction.
In another work, a young man wearing bright yellow pants vigorously strides across the panel with a somewhat vacant, though agitated stare that bespeaks of the private and potent pull of introspection. Behind him a Matisse-like pattern of wallpaper flowers dance delightly, again creating an odd but clearly calculated contrast to the figures cryptically cool countenance. The fact that Novatnys figures find themselves cramped into such confining spaces seems to pump each piece with a kind of explosively compressed potential. You can sense that at any moment you might be overwhelmed by the depth and outpouring of each figures story. |
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