'Sunday'
Through Aug. 9, Heather Marx Gallery
A YOUNG GIRL
, the epitome of awkward adolescence, clutches a Mr. Toad doll and grins out at us from the canvas. She is typical of the children who appear in David Lyle's monochromatic paintings. With his brushwork, Lyle manages to create pictures that are simultaneously realistic and hazy, like childhood memories often are; he is extremely skilled at making a few broad, sketchy strokes resolve, at just a short distance away, into lifelike material surfaces. Supermarket Cowboy, for instance, includes incredibly convincing representations of plastic, metal, denim, paper, tape, skin, and brick, all executed with great economy. The paintings are closely based on photographs taken during the 1960s, and Lyle calls the series "Sunday" to evoke a leisurely, summery atmosphere. But he is not simply a painter of nostalgia. His selection of photos strongly recalls the work of Diane Arbus; they have that same strangeness and a similar fascination with the way kids look when caught in a moment of triumph, or contemplation, or fear. It's impossible to know, of course, how much Lyle has directly transcribed from the original images and how much is his own invention, but if he pulled the photos from his family album, then we have to wonder if he now knows these people as adults, or if he's even painting himself as a kid. How much of a knowing glint should we read into the eye of the boy in Hippity Hoppity? His smirk somehow suggests a future teenage delinquent, just like the girl in Easter Basket could easily be a future Carrie type. It's frustrating not to know how they all turned out in real life, especially since Lyle seems to be deliberately teasing us, hinting at much more than his paintings actually reveal. Tues.-Fri., 10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m.; Sat., 11 a.m.-5 p.m., 77 Geary, second floor, S.F. (415) 627-9111. (Lindsey Westbrook)