Jensen’s Calculated Chaos Reveals Order

A tantalizing survey of paintings and works on paper by Alfred Jensen (1903-1981) at Pace-Wildenstein Gallery presents a dazzling span of the uncategorizable eccentric’s images. An artist’s artist, Jensen never fit into any movements, but followed rhythms all his own. From the 20 works here, it’s clear there was plenty going on in his head to keep him occupied for more than a lifetime.

His bold, eye-grabbing paintings are luscious orchestrations of numbers, diagrams and patterns, piled on canvases in thick, juicy layers that never look messy but instead manage to sharply articulate crisp geometries. A palette of purples, maroons and burgundies, along with toxic lime greens, hot oranges, chalky yellows and burning reds should look disgusting yet also manages to look right--in a crazy, do-it-yourself way.

Many numerological systems interlink in Jensen’s tightly gridded pictures. At first, these complex, large-scale paintings appear to be mad cacophonies of nonsense, with columns of numbers randomly laid out and colors arbitrarily applied.

A few minutes of scrutiny, however, reveal a method to the madness. Color-coded numbers add up with others, creating logical connections among crisscrossing columns and rows.

Ancient symbols overlap with references to systems of rational and mystical inquiry, including proportions from Greek architecture, plans of Mayan temples, exotic calendars, the I Ching and DNA structures. The more closely you pay attention to Jensen’s paintings, the more harmonious relationships begin to spring up everywhere.

In these pulsating diagrams, Jensen sought to chart the underlying order of the universe--to find, amid the world’s inconceivable variety, beautiful proportions and mind-boggling connections. His unquenchable curiosity radiates from his work, demonstrating that systematic thinking doesn’t have to be stifling, and that obsessive focus can be expansive if undertaken in the right spirit.

Also at PaceWildenstein, Cindy Sherman’s 14 new Cibachromes look like enlarged film stills from low-budget horror movies. Each approximately 5-by-3 1/2-foot image is an extreme close-up of a horrendously artificial character, including a scaly-faced witch, a slack-jawed Cinderella, a glassy-eyed clown and a redheaded Ophelia, her tongue sticking out in death through a cheap carnival mask.

Some of Sherman’s slick, color-saturated prints depict masks over masks, behind which lie plastic eyeballs or a face caked in makeup, presumably that of the artist herself. Although her work is often discussed in terms of self-portraiture, these new pictures aggressively assert that the critically acclaimed artist could not be less interested in revealing any kind of hidden self--even an extremely fragmented one.

Sherman’s photos have always been about the impersonal, general, even mythical categories popular culture provides and manipulates to amuse and entrance vast audiences. Two of the best prints demonstrate that her primary concern is to engage these cliches provocatively, rather than to express some aspect of her multifaceted self.

One theatrically lit photo portrays a shrieking, glitter-covered figure who could be the offspring of a genie and a robot--say, the nubile sprite from “I Dream of Jeannie” and C-3PO, the androgynous humanoid from “Star Wars.” The other depicts a character who resembles a cross between any member of the 1970s rock group Kiss and Catwoman from “Batman.”

The most surprising aspect of Sherman’s new work is its restrained, tasteful appearance, at least on the surface. By foregrounding fakery, these photos rank among the most realistic being made today. They give form to the weirdness at the root of modern life, fleshing out its bizarre nature.

* PaceWildenstein Gallery, 9540 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills, (310) 205-5522, through March 9.

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Loopy Vision: Louis Eilshemius (1864-1941) is a little-known American painter whose dreamy landscapes often focus on awkwardly rendered nude women. Alone or in groups, these sketchy figures are almost always running their hands through their knee-length hair, flipping it overhead as they frolic, wrestle and otherwise contort their oddly proportioned bodies in strange, Arcadian settings.

At Kantor Gallery, a dozen of the eccentric artist’s works paint a pretty clear picture of his loopy vision. It’s evident that Eilshemius admired Cezanne’s studies of bathers in landscapes, but rejected the Frenchman’s formal innovations--especially his de-emphasis of the figure.

Born in New Jersey, Eilshemius belonged to a generation of painters who believed that technical sophistication snuffed out art’s vigor. In place of avant-garde experimentation or academic facility, he pursued a style of self-conscious naivete.

Willfully crude, Eilshemius’ childlike landscapes are suffused with the desire to recapture the innocent splendors of Eden at the same time that they are riddled with the knowledge that this dream is futile. As you peruse his desperately charming pictures, you can’t help but feel that Eilshemius was a person for whom reality never measured up to expectations. His paintings make these failures palpable and poignant.

* Kantor Gallery, 8642 Melrose Ave., West Hollywood, (310) 659-5388, through March 5. Closed Sunday and Monday.