Maureen St. Vincent’s recent works consider history, symbol, and the body through their attendant visual indicators. Wielding a carefully balanced pastiche of the Rococo fetish for ornament and material, the artist’s dreamlike jaunts prod at the neoliberal sequestration of sexuality and sensuality in art, arguing instead for their return to unmuffled prominence. __ In Aaron Elvis Jupin’s Layman’s Terms, Tongue Tied, a frantic and decaying culture turns into salt as it looks back toward the burning Gomorrah, pining for a time when images were absolute, information could logically assemble into truth, and the persistent buzzing of evil was just a low hum. Nostalgia, preserved in the enduring confusions of childhood, proves misplaced, as Jupin’s paintings return the viewer to a state of hallucinatory misremembrance. A sense of calm–rooted in assurance and/or resignation–somehow prevails.