In this series, Klein conjures a fantastical world populated by a riotous menagerie of animal protagonists—mice, spiders, sharks, dinosaurs, radioactive swans, peppermint snails, psychedelic flowers, wolf-fox hybrids, and fluorescent toucans. These creatures inhabit surreal, densely painted environments scattered with confetti moons, pumpkin-green forests, peppermint waterfalls, and ominous, Prussian-blue rivers. Executed in expressive impasto and luminous washes reminiscent of Morris Louis’s “stain” technique, the work employs a saturated, often cartoonish palette that both invites and unsettles—drawing viewers into vibrant surfaces that gradually reveal layered psychological depth.
In Klein’s earlier paintings, these animal figures lingered at the periphery; here, they take center stage, assuming symbolic, even iconic roles. In works like Sitter, Torch, and Faafo, they verge on portraiture. Faafo - a wry acronym for “fuck around and find out”- features an ultramarine mouse with glassy eyes poised on a tuft of grass, facing a dangling spider while a polka-dot shark bursts through the sea behind, scattering it into a shimmer of confetti. Above, a pictographic Saturn hovers, evoking a watchful drone. The composition reads as a veiled self-portrait—an allegory of risk, curiosity, and the unforeseen consequences of creative pursuit. Painting, for Klein, is both process and revelation—the terrain where one experiments and inevitably discovers.
Klein’s visual language—rich in recurring motifs and symbolic forms—constructs a reality that is at once surreal and emotionally charged. His images pulse with mythic ambiguity, hovering between abstraction and figuration. The result is a dreamlike ecosystem teeming with ancient archetypes, invisible forces, and a subtle sense of looming collapse.
At first glance, the work seems ironic and playful. The vibrant palette, cartoon-like forms, and familiar motifs evoke storybooks or dream sequences: elusive, symbolic, emotionally resonant, and hard to decode. The line between dream and waking, between imagination and reality, is intentionally blurred. “This isn’t a dream,” Klein says, “but it flows from the experience of dreaming.” His images reflect that state—charged, open-ended, and dense with meaning. But the tone quickly shifts into something deeper and more complex: a haunting adult playfulness emerges—at once tender and uncanny. The animals become more than characters; they transform into landscapes, totems, and creatures that seem to exist to be worshipped.
The exhibition title itself, Sentinels and Satellites, reflects the duality at the heart of Klein’s universe. Sentinels stand watch; satellites orbit and transmit. His fantastical animal forms seem to do both—stationary yet hovering, protective yet inscrutable. Are they observers or guardians? Or perhaps symbolic tools, not tied to narrative, but to the act of painting itself.
Rather than following a traditional storyline, Klein’s work invites viewers to abandon linear interpretation and instead immerse themselves in the physicality of the surface. Though plotless, the paintings conjure an unmistakable mood: a post-human, possibly post-apocalyptic landscape where humans are absent, and playful creatures inhabit unnervingly artificial terrain. These works feel like childhood toys misplaced in a disorienting dream—a psychedelic fairy tale gone strange. They’re not fables for children, but lullabies whispered at the edge of disaster.
Importantly, Klein avoids the trap of postmodern cynicism. He doesn’t mock sincerity—he reinvents it. “The self,” he proposes, “is already the largest metaphor.” Within that framework, irony gives way to emotional gravity, and play becomes a form of belief—an act of resistance against detachment.
Klein’s influences span a wide range of symbolic and surrealist image-makers. One might sense the mysticism of Odilon Redon, the enchanted jungles of Henri Rousseau, or the intimate cosmologies of Forrest Bess. There are also echoes of Charles Burchfield’s psychic topographies, Paul Klee’s symbolic abstraction, and Max Ernst’s metamorphic logic. Like these artists, Klein builds immersive psychological worlds.
Sentinels and Satellites invites viewers into a luminous, unstable cosmos—a space where fairy tale turns into omen, color becomes language, and the viewer is no longer just looking—the world is looking back.
We warmly invite you to join us for the opening reception of Benjamin Klein: Solo Show, Sentinels and Satellites, on April 9th from 6 to 8 PM at Tappeto Volante.
