Anj Smith - Phosphor Of The Palms - Hauser & Worth - London

Perhaps it is the small scale of these works, the exquisite precision of the painting, the preciosity of Smith's technique, but they are uniformly engrossing in ways often unavailable to monumental canvases. Smith's methods alone bind together centuries of disparate tradition into a startling, disorienting realm of slippery reference. This ultimately forces the viewer into the artist's singular world, abandoning familiar associations in favor of an uneasy but rewarding trust. Yet there is also something disarmingly familiar in these works. Mainly portraits, laced with magical detail and queasy juxtapositions of matter and wildlife, I felt as though I'd dreamt them: seen them before. Smith somehow manages to trawl the viewer's unconscious, to present artifacts picked from the seabed of our unexamined memories. I have rarely felt more tempted to lift works from the wall of gallery and run off with them.  When art touches the secret unconscious with such precision and intimacy it risks the creation of profound bonds with the viewer: a compelling feeling of ownership and kinship. Until the 21st of November.