David Sentis is one of the best techincal painters to come along in recent memory. His skill as a draughtsman combines a concern with object and a worry about humanism, his colour sense sneaks quietly into the viewer and he refuses to allow form to trump content.

This mannerist sensibility is matched with explicit homoerotica, it is like what would happen if what is ignored in art history was placed front and center. The raw sensuousness of Michaelangelo’s dying slave is done as honcho style porn, Caravaggio’s boys finally come out of the closet as raw trade, and in the process drop all the religous trappings.

The purity of sexuality becomes transcendence unto itself.