A whiff of delightful delinquency perfumes the heady air of Graham Silveria Martin’s exquisite, tender paintings. The artist’s extraordinary gift to register flesh - shimmering in light, swelling in shadow, swooning in sybaritic fidelity - asks the viewer to look at something very closely, only to unsettle the very thing upon which their eyes have settled.

What the eye assumes to be an ode to the human figure slowly slips into the velvety wobble of abstraction, yet it is through this very slippage that Silveria Martin’s image – the Queer male body – becomes more, not less, visible. The harder you look, the more you see. The more you see, the less you know. The inner self and the public face thus contest, negotiate, but also highlight issues of visibility, privacy and, by extension, permission, that still, today, challenge Queer culture and experience.