Johan Wahlstrom at the Swedish American Museum

  

Subway People, 54 x 54

This exhibit of twenty paintings by the Swedish-American painter Johan Wahlstrom (b. 1959) was given the title "What you See is what You Get" — but it feels like we’re getting a lot more. Like the Nordic myths of Bengt Lindstrom -   appearing in this gallery five years ago -  these paintings seem to have begun somewhere far away -  another dimension perhaps? - and only a small sliver has ended up between the edges of these canvases.   And it’s no surprise that these  multiple dimensions often appear on NewYork City public transportation.

Exhibition text also tells us that the pieces focus on "the current political landscape" - specifically the Russian invasion of Ukraine - but the chaos and anxiety seem less specific than that.  One might call it the human condition - or, if you’ve seen the documentary "Chimp Empire", the primate condition. It’s just how we apes are.

This is You ( left ), This is Us ( right )

54 x 54 each

 Wahlstrom could have joined the Hairy Who fifty years ago.  

 He‘s just a bit more dynamic - and a bit less juvenile.

Bar Hang (left), untitled (right)

Each is 54 x 54

Looks like panels from a comic strip

where you get to make your own caption.

Mine would be :  "Welcome to the middle class"

Everyone here seems to need therapy.

Both untitled,

Both 54 x 54

Looks like American partisan politics.

Dismay to the left,

Anger to the right.

Mouths open — minds shut.

Though as nearly 50% of the American electorate veers off  towards a reactionary authoritarian fascism,

perhaps dismay is not a inappropriate reaction

He got himself a Gun,  20 x 20

Somewhere in West Virginia,  20 x 20

Wahlstrom now lives in NYC, but his gallery remains in Sweden.

These two pieces may be aimed at European collectors who like to look down at wacky, violent Americans.

Is that an opium poppy field those two empty headed Appalachians are standing in?

The young man with the big gun feels like a religious figure,

perhaps the patron saint of mass murder.

The lively show fits quite well into a downscale public space - this somewhat claustrophobic cafe area at the Swedish-American Museum.

There is humor and satire here as with the Chicago Imagists - but it feels more social than personal. It’s not the viewer who has gone wacky - it’s the society.  And the formal power, when present, makes the critical viewpoint more convincing.