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A thicket of strokes buzz at you, yielding an image that gradually gains resolution. Color jumps the line breaks like a brush fire out of control, but it all maintains the precarious integrity of exposed nerves. It isn’t hard to believe that sanity is what is at stake for Arnaldo Roche here, though the specific link it has via his brother, a schizophrenic who shot their sister dead and later died as he wandered lost in the countryside, can only be read outside the work. The homage to Van Gogh is quite visible and is, for a change, appropriate and convincing (Latin American Masters, Beverly Hills).

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