Meet the mad buoyant exuberance of Spanish Neo-Punk star Carlos Maciá He sprays his 75 feet of gorgeous retinal punch massively onto the gallery walls. In bravado and technique, it resembles graffiti. But Maciá’s all-over invasion of architecture sidesteps the conventions of this subculture. He makes no pretense of playing underground, nor of fetishizing his identity in a tag. Rather than instigate a territorial challenge, he squeezes tension out of the precise delimitations of his architectural frame. It works.

In comparison, Jonathon Lasker’s iconic scribbles feel stiff. And Claude Monet’s Water Lilies, which his works at times strangely resemble, feel damp. Maciá reawakens us to the perverse intensity of Miro and Picasso. He flies as Pollock did at his best. And <> impressionism and non-objectivity feel suddenly once again subversive!