Tony Fitzpatrick amalgamates sources from a tough vernacular—tattoos, gang signage, street graffiti, prison art, and Catholic holy cards—into densely choreographed pictures that accelerate in frenetic rhythms. His pedal-to-the-metal compositions always opt for more, jamming his drawings and prints with a glut of mesmerizing doodles. Fitzpatrick's form of horror vacui manifests itself in an incessant intensity that has more than a little to do with brinksmanship.

Beyond the pose of manic bluster and gruff facade, Fitzpatrick is an heir to the venerable tradition of art as a vehicle for the expression