Wilshire Center

In Eastern Europe, news of contemporary Western art generally comes second-hand, via illustrations in books and magazines. So perhaps it isn’t surprising that Bulgarian artist Tzveti Kirov’s figurative paintings--with titles like “Treadmill to Oblivion” and “Blind Ambition”--have a dated quality. Most of Kirov’s works--shown for the first time in the United States--feature a blurred, fragmentary male figure rushing blindly to some unknown destination. His face and body are twisted and compacted, and empty space whistles through his torso.

Colorful arrows, “twinkling” hatch marks borrowed from commercial illustration and the curving lines cartoonists use to show movement dance ironically around these hollow men. Some have companions: impassive women with apple cheeks and ample figures, nude or clothed, who cohabit interiors liable to funnel backward suddenly or flip around in a maniacal curve.

Kirov’s combination of ‘50s-style Angst and ‘60s-style commercial art borrowings doesn’t quite come off, at least in the context of contemporary Western art. But it does have the authentic tang of ironic commentary on a muddled and frantic society that wants answers as simple and easy to follow as the arrows on a diagram. It’s a pity the gallery sees fit to prop up paintings on silly gilt easels, which make even serious, intelligently conceived art look like kitsch. (Gene Sinser Gallery, 331 N. Larchmont Blvd., to Dec. 23.)