
Yehoshua Kovarsky
Ankrum Gallery
Each painting reiterates in form, color and concept such unflagging pretentiousness that the viewer being railroaded through Kovarsky’s Picasso-land, turns citron. Rancid turquoise spot lights an ameboid Adam and Eve; a fried egg is served upon a rubbery leaf; it is the dawn of temptation. Outlines separate from their colored centers with some rather absurd results. In Canaanite, the contour of the breast declares: “they went that-a-way” while its lavender fill-in acts as a hub-cap. Kovarsky is equally unsuccessful when checkering his brush strokes or frosting the canvas by palette knife. His self-styled “atavistic recollection” seems to emerge only as undigested mimicry.
