new-york

Francesca Gabbiani

I-20 Gallery

For years I’ve seen these tiny things, translucent filaments or monocellular organisms, floating around my field of vision—not all the time, but sometimes. When I was young I thought that I had especially keen sight and was able to see the workings of germs. Then I learned the word for this phenomenon, learned that since it had a name my powers of perception were probably not extraordinary, forgot the word, and though I still see these shapes moving around before my eyeballs, I hadn’t thought about them or what they might mean until I saw the intense, coolly radiant paintings of Francesca Gabbiani.

Most of Gabbiani’s works are oil and wax on aluminum. Even the large ones with wide, sparse passages coil and spin with frenetic activity—scratchings and circular scribblings, through layers of white down to a base of blue, blue-green, or purple, that float in the glowing space but also blister

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