Oliver Katz is a poet and musician living and working in New York City. He has recently worked on recording spoken word projects with poets Anne Waldman and Edwin Torres.

The work of the curator can be a shot in the dark, trying to turn the variables of many different works into a cumulative sensation for the viewer. Here, the sensation is irresistibly vivid: that summer in that idyllic nowhere Mediterranean coastal town.

I keep getting drawn into these pale purple outlines in the big painting facing the street, Burning Summit, which, like others in the show (all 2023), uses a palette that is disparate but deeply congruous. It’s only once you stand close that you can even see the wisps of green and halos of purple, but you realize that they’re doing heavy lifting, adding a sweet aesthetic nuance that’s almost geological.

I’m starting a band called Doug Dimple and the Simple Pimples or maybe The Brazilian Pavilions and everyone’s waiting for this limp black cord to become electric and so am I and here it goes building up to a cacophonous staticky thrashing