Aaron Kudi tests colour, much as he does form, gesture and ground, not just in juxtaposition or contradistinction but in genuine dialogue, so that a tessellation of subliminal drives and emotions comes together, voiced by chroma, to form – if not shape – a kind of narrative.

Kudi’s painting also tangoes between objection and abdication; between the intent of his mark and his own embrace of chance to (re)guide it. He engages the spirits of chance which, in turns, begins another tectonic upheaval of the painted ground. He distresses (or, rather, re-addresses) his surface by pooling paint directly onto the canvas and then, in concert with gravity and by physically moving his support, he lets paint run free and arrive at its own destination. From there Kudi will, again, approach the canvas with another method of application – smearing not brushing, diluting with water (by hand and with rain from the sky) not embellishing with further paint. Earth is thus formulated by a series of painterly contests, both with itself as medium but also with the intangible or unknown.