Nine diverting new paintings on linen or panel by J.P. Munro conjure a kind of extravagant Neo-Post-Impressionism, re-imagined for another era.
The exoticism of Gauguin, the visually fracturing dots of Seurat, the crystalline delirium of Van Gogh, the Arcadian fantasies of Cézanne and the primitive wonderment of Henri Rousseau collapse into infinitely receding pictures within pictures. His paintings have the roseate glow of burled wood antiques.
At International Art Objects Galleries, Munro gives us Dionysus, son of Zeus, riding on a tiger's back into a landscape jam-packed with competing gods and goddesses — Shiva, the Buddha, voluptuous nudes — in a scene as fantastic as James Ensor's hallucinatory image of the risen Christ entering Brussels during a raucous Mardi Gras parade.
Nearby, another painting shows a prim woman playing the piano for a throng of sumptuous nudes assembled before a big Baroque landscape, which could as easily be a view out a picture window toward the western end of the Sunset Strip. Other paintings take in a woozy view of Lake Hollywood from atop Mt. Lee or into a forbidding canyon filled with dense, tinder-dry brush.