Lost IN L.A.

Lost in L.A. comes from the Hollywood Rockefeller knew as a young man — pink stucco, hot red tile, palm trees against an unbothered sky. The pool runs through the series as both refuge and void: a private architecture, cool and contained, that also holds the day’s distance — the wall too high, the water too still, the figure across the courtyard too far to call.

This is a Los Angeles of proximity without contact, access without intimacy; its surfaces — wall, water, glass — seal as often as they reflect. Each painting holds the particular fact of the place: how close you can stand to someone here, and how far.