By Monique Jones
By Travis Cohen
By Liz Tracy
By Terrence McCoy
By Morgan Golumbuk
By Ciara LaVelle
By Carolina del Busto
By Michael E. Miller
One intimate painting portrays a bug-eyed, Cerberus-like dolt — the three-faced mutant wagging Johnny Wad-length peckers in lieu of a snout. The loopy confection is the stuff of a horror-porn nightmare and is tinged in bubblegum pink, tamarind orange, and jaundiced yellow tones.
Upon close inspection, these unnerving pieces reveal the blurring technique Ethier uses to achieve the haunting, dreamlike finish in his exactingly worked paintings. His presence lurks on their surfaces not unlike the blood on one of his mutants' fangs, just as it does long afterward in one's reeling head.
Rounding out Bruk's triple play is Craig Kucia's "Music for People Without Friends."
Kucia is one of Bruk's paint studs, and he delivers in spades. The artist is represented here by eight oil-on-canvas works — six large, two small — all of which are heavily impastoed and appear to be light years away from drying.
An untitled piece explodes with thickly daubed cherry blossoms rendered in velvety pink and red bursts across two-thirds of the canvas. The rich dollops of paint cascade over the head of a tyke cloaked in a devil-horned cowl and waving a pitchfork in the air.
Visitors to this show will leave laughing — in a good way — and with a taste of the truly weird to ponder. What comes across clearly is that Bruk's season-opening mulch is not boring.