In A Ghost in the Bushes, American artist Taylor Anton White (b. 1978, San Diego) presents a new body of work that moves between chaos and control, humor and haunting, improvisation and intention. His paintings are sites of collision-where deliberate intent meets the unruly pace of making. They unfold like maps left to the mercy of wind and rain: partially legible, half-erased, their routes collapsing and reforming under shifting conditions.
White's canvases are filled with fragments-routes, diagrams, and figures-that flicker into recognition before dissolving again into abstraction. They are simultaneously built and unraveling, alive with the sense that something-a storm, a crisis, or simply nightfall-is close. His mark-making carries both urgency and composure, revealing an artist deeply attuned to the fragility of meaning and the shifting boundaries of intention.
An undercurrent of absurdity runs through the work, a self-aware humor that never fully dispels the unease. In these paintings, jokes coexist with dread; clarity gives way to blur; structure leans toward entropy. White has described this as a kind of primitive awareness-a feeling that something is near, though it can't be seen. It lends his paintings a charged atmosphere, at once direct and uncertain.
The exhibition's title, drawn from one of the central works on view, encapsulates this tension. A Ghost in the Bushes evokes both presence and concealment, the seen and the suspected. It points to the uncanny vitality that haunts White's practice: painting as apparition, as something that insists on showing itself even as it disappears.
In Murnau-landscape of storms, spirits, and shadowed light-White's work finds a resonant setting. Like the Bavarian skies, his paintings carry the sense that night is always about to fall, and within that darkness, the unseen world hums.
