Santa Monica

Jerald Silva’s masterfully painted watercolor nudes are caught somewhere between Ingres’ psychological portraits and strictly formal figure studies toying with light, form and technique. Confusion arises because the female figures are so often bland individuals at the mercy of the artist’s technical display. Yet occasionally they survive the assault with dogged inner strength.

This intensity enlivens the somewhat languid action in paintings like “Woman Rising,” where a seated nude, gazing determinedly straight ahead, is pictured about to push off from a red chair directly at the viewer. Behind her on a steam-fogged picture window are wet, drippy finger marks that catch her willpower and radiate like an expressionistic halo.

Silva’s dexterity with the figure and his ability to make watercolor steam drip is wonderful. Loose, but accurate he can make color imitate just about any light effect. Yet it’s only when he stops fiddling with all the gee-whiz effects and settles in to say something that the paintings really come to life. His steamy “Olympia” is a wonderful visual pun on sexuality. Most moving is a cunning and unsympathetic self-portrait. (Andrea Ross Gallery, 2110 Broadway, to Oct. 21.)