new-york

Terry Winters

Sonnabend Gallery

Terry Winters has, thankfully, killed off those muddy-hued botanical and geometric forms—mute pods and polygons—one is accustomed to finding in his paintings. In much of his new work these shapes seem to have been garishly reincarnated in exploded form: what were rigid polygonal forms and impenetrable pods seem to have burst wide open, exposing the twisted membranes of strange interior landscapes.

Whereas, for some, the earlier work was tiresomely solipsistic—driven by an obsession with the mysteries of dense paint and repetitive drawing—these new paintings, with their aggressively applied, Crayolapure color seem to draw from the work of certain younger abstractionists and are surprisingly fresh.

Winters’ cartoony new works cannily reference other media as much as their own peculiar morphology, manifesting the kind of sticky, stretched forms and confident drawing one

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