The five landscapes in this strong, pared-down show by a 26-year-old artist are painted in back and white and appear to be just a step removed from drawing. It is as if each image of a body of water or a cloudy sky were spun from a single thick twisting line, which in some cases fills the canvas from edge to edge.
The impression of solidity -- one thinks at first of the heavily outlined images in children's coloring books -- is deceptive. The images are, in fact, as fragmented and discontinuous as reflections in water, and they are full of the gestural seraphs and trailing strokes that confirm a mutable hands-on touch.
It's a touch with interestingly contradictory intentions. Though Eric Wolf paints from nature, his landscapes have the abstracted look of mechanically reproduced images, as if each were the result of repeated photocopying. (Peter Nagy's work comes to mind.) They also project what one can only call a referential verve: the organic flow of Chinese landscape is here, as is the roiling ecstasy of Charles Burchfield.
If, like many contemporary painters, Mr. Wolf is more comfortable with the idea of ecstasy than with the real thing, he's hedging his bets very persuasively. HOLLAND COTTER