In November 2002, a plane carrying Luxembourgian artist Michel Majerus back from Berlin to his homeland crashed and he died, aged just thirty-five. By that time, he’d spent more than a decade evolving a wildly inclusive aesthetic that—broadly under the sign of painting, though increasingly involving digital prep work—mixed high- and low-cultural references and often involved printing and brushing directly onto gallery walls. (Or, for a 2000 show at Cologne’s Kunstverein, prophetically titled “if we are dead, so it is,” onto a full-scale half-pipe.) To mark the twentieth anniversary of Majerus’s