WILSHIRE CENTER

An interest in primitive forms links tandem shows of paintings by New York artist L. D. Lawrence and Ernest Silva of San Diego, but it’s not a connection to belabor. Lawrence is primarily involved with systems of communication--hieroglyphics, pictographs and blackboards--though her search for direction hasn’t gelled into anything cohesive. At the moment, she has a plate full of possibilities, mostly derivative but nicely painted. She borrows from Miro, Klee and Gorky--among others--and has studied the pictorial writing of ancient civilizations. One work with bold images on a plain background puts us in mind of a chalkboard, the next of a cave painting or of signs scratched into rocks. We admire the energy Lawrence puts into this melange and wait to see what will come of it.

Silva has long since declared himself as a narrative expressionist who uses woodsy forms and stick figures to talk about modern dilemmas. Essentially, his seems a gentle way of expressing concern about aggression. Logs, trees, flames, houses, horses and figures are the pictorial elements of simple compositions that issue tension if not apocalyptic warnings. Working in oil on canvas or on wood cutouts, Silva sets barren trees against a bleak countryside and pictures a “Fallen Rider,” a blazing forest and a “wooden” couple. Collectively, they read as skeletons of the forest primeval, rattling around ominously but exuding a affecting poignancy. (Roy Boyd Gallery, 170 S. La Brea Ave., to Feb. 3.)