Throughout history, figuration in art has almost always been the carrier of a message—religious, political, or social—beyond the immediate appreciation of the human form. This dual content is what makes studying the depiction of the human figure so interesting, even in our post-modern era. Gallery Victor is known for showing figurative works that have roots in historical realism yet have a contemporary punch. This exhibition of works by Nathan Brad Hall is a prime example. Hall uses all the techniques of realism developed during and since the Renaissance-particularly chiaroscuro, the careful shading of skin to achieve precise modeling or the meticulous rendering of hair. But he mixes these techniques with subtle areas of impasto—to him, a nod to expressionism—to call attention to certain parts of a painting. The results are a series of large dramatic images of nude male figures that speak to much more than the beauty of the male body.

        Meant to be the centerpiece of the show, I Love You the First Time is an oil on linen painting measuring 80 x 120 inches that dominates by its sheer size. Mottled light creates a focus on the face. Two highlights on the forehead are areas with impasto that help call attention to the eyes. Note also the fine detail of the eyebrows and lashes, the reflection of the eyelashes in the whites of the eyes, and the mottling of the skin tones on the nose. Now, to be fair, Hall did not make up these details; he works from multiple photos that he takes of posed models. What is special is that he can painstakingly reproduce those details where necessary. In this painting, the result is an expression that, almost on the verge of being tearful, can be interpreted as conveying deep affection and honesty.

        Threshold, another large canvas 60 x 96 inches in size, next caught my attention. This painting stands out as being the only frontal nude. Again, lighting is directed to dramatically emphasize certain parts of the body. We see a severely split face with the left side in bright light and the right in almost total darkness. Resting on a green chaise, the figure’s right hand, is strongly lit, while the left is barely visible. The inner right thigh is highlighted next to genitalia which are almost completely in shadow. The presence of a silhouette of an open mouth on the wall behind the subject draws us away from the figure and to some unknown dream space. This state is reinforced by the looser rendering of the figure than is seen in other paintings. Note that in the face, the beard is not rendered in as fine detail as in I Love You the First Time. In contrast to other paintings, the chest skin is depicted in broader swatches that show the brush strokes. From a purely technical standpoint, the execution of the hand is masterful. All of this reinforces the dreamlike nature of the painting. It also elucidates a hidden meaning in the work: the important aspects of a person are their mind and their skill; their sexuality is nearly irrelevant.

        That is not to say that sexuality should be dismissed. Elsewhere is the only painting in the show that is overtly sexual. Yet it is just a provocative image of a face. It demonstrates how compelling youth and beauty can be—especially when there is an undertone of androgyny. Note the exaggerated eyelashes (enhanced by mascara?) and the pouting voluminous lips, along with the flowing, tousled, blond hair. But don’t miss the slightest hint of a mustache above those Nicki Minaj pink lips (almost certainly more makeup). This image is pure sex in its most carnal form. It reminded me of sex workers, drag queens, and Andy Warhol’s movie Flesh. Elsewhere is the conceptual opposite of Threshold, and an acknowledgement of the existence of strong libido in the Gay world. But Elsewhere shows us a camp incarnation often perceived as the gay norm in the straight world.

        For me, the most compelling painting was Gossamer. This painting is of a ballet dancer casually seated on a rug, the light focused on his back, buttocks, and feet making a gentle arc. The first thing one notices is how thin he is—his ribs and the vertebrae of his upper spine are visible. The impasto technique is employed on the left buttock, highlighting the most muscular part of the dancer. His feet are meticulously detailed, calling attention to the other main part of a dancer’s physique. But what is unusual is the rendering of his hair. It does not have the fine detail seen in Elsewhere; it is more like the hair seen on Greek statues, thick matts of curls casually sketched in. The model radiates a quiet androgyny with his gentle pose, giving the painting a romantic air. It is the same pose seen in one of the figures in Scott Tuke’s The Bathers from 1890. That painting depicts three naked adolescent youths on a sailboat—the one on the lower left positioned in the same pose. The painting was was in the exhibition “The First Homosexuals: The Birth of a New Identity 1869–1939” at Wrightwood 659 in Chicago earlier this year. In Gossamer, we see the image of Platonic innocence in the young, relaxed dancer, in contrast to the seductive allure of Elsewhere.

    

Then there is Day Break, a self-portrait of the artist in a fetal position. Lying on a heavily patterned rug, there are no “separate” highlghts calling attention to particular parts of the body; it is entirely highlighted. What gives this piece its tension is the fact that the subject’s hands are over his head, as if trying to protect itself from something. So, the pose becomes defensive—suggesting the anticipation and fear of a coming event. It reminds me of the body casts of the victims of Pompei.

        There is a stark contrast between Gossamer and Day Break just because of the difference in pose; both paintings have the same color palette. This emphasis on the emotional state of the models is part of what makes Hall’s paintings unusual. Much figurative painting today places individuals in a political posture; they become propaganda symbols and lose their individual identity. Not so with Hall’s work.

        “Undercurrents” turns out to be an appropriate name for this exhibition. Hall’s paintings have a subtle message that reminded me of that found in religious paintings of the past. But Hall references a different kind of spirituality. He is affirming the legitimacy of homosexual life in the twenty first century, not in a provocative political or sexual way, but in a gentle, humanist manner. For those of us who have struggled with this issue for most of our lives, Hall’s elegant affirmation gives us a much-needed sense of validity and peace.

Michel Ségard is the Editor in Chief of the New Art Examiner and a former adjunct assistant professor at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. He has been a published art critic for more than 45 years and is also the author of numerous exhibition catalog essays.