New York

Adam Ross

Caren Golden Fine Art

Among my adolescent souvenirs float vague recollections of science-fiction stories in which some stranded space traveler happens on a vast, beautiful city that, void of all inhabitants, somehow continues to run with perfect mechanical efficiency long after the disappearance of its builders. These fantasies, which were obviously connected to the threat of nuclear annihilation that hung over cold-war America, transformed the chilly irony of a humanity whose creations might be more powerful than itself into what I later learned to recognize as an idea of the sublime, that painfully pleasurable astonishment at the incommensurability of the merely human with the infinite.

It is this same idea that is invoked in the new untitled paintings and drawings of Adam Ross, all but two dated 1999, which, hovering tantalizingly between abstraction and landscape, present far-off, futuristic cities spreading

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