Max Boyla
Crying like a fire in the sun


On until 6 April 2024

Boyla’s sky-sizes canvases rendered in bleached ink mauves, pinks, and rust are the product of meditation that turned into catatonia. These images are reminiscent of tie-dye t-shirts more than of the sun’s coronal explosions or even the blotchy floaters one occasionally sees in their field of vision. A slightly quirky hang which has the paintings hover oddly above the floor and the gallery’s lighting grid replaced by singular sources force-aestheticise this non-experience. 

Rothko’s abstractions are said to have induced tears in viewers overwhelmed by abstraction. Staring at the sun here, however, barely causes blindness.

notes and notices are short and curt exhibition reviews. Read more:

Lutz Bacher, AYE! at Raven Row ★★★★☆

Lutz Bacher



There’s joy in repetition. There’s joy in repetition. There’s joy in repetition. There’s joy in repetition. There’s joy in repetition. There’s joy in repetition.

RE/SISTERS at Barbican ★★☆☆☆



Too many deadpan landscape photographs turn intrigue into fatigue and into paralysis.

Christine Ay Tjoe, Lesser Numerator at White Cube ★★☆☆☆

Christine Ay Tjoe

Lesser Numerator


Aj Tjoe’s paintings could make great scenic backdrops to a David Attenborough documentary on the life of wild rodents

Jan Gatewood, Group Relations at Rose Easton ★☆☆☆☆

Jan Gatewood

Group Relations


Such thin metaphors could only have come from LA.

Auudi Dorsey at PM/AM ★★★★☆

Auudi Dorsey


Dorsey records the human experience with the true universalism of paint.

Sin Wei Kin, Portraits at Soft Opening ★★☆☆☆

Sin Wei Kin



This exhibition combines the most vulgar of all art school tropes: juvenile narcissism, NFT kitsch, and mindless referentialism.