Without any understanding of colour Larkin’s method of pushing paint through the weave of the canvas from behind becomes a shallow gimmick. The method doesn’t develop an aesthetic for the artefact by indicating chromatic control nor does it show a sensitive relationship with the dominant ‘neutral’ colour that happens to be white.

In contrast to her last exhibition where she made ‘portraits’ where heads, faces and whole bodies were hidden from view, this new Layla Rudneva-Mackay show uses exposed faces, but still hidden behind make up - white-faced or tinted pancake, foundations and creams. The six photographs here in Starkwhite’s new back gallery allude to the theatre: they are stagey with appropriately coloured backdrops, costumes and props. They tease out the notion of applied facial makeup as rudimentary mask - not for disguise though, but accentuation of mood. An elaboration of a psychological state or - more permanently, a character trait.

Frankovich is a gymnast preoccupied with linear vectors. She thinks in terms of vertical drops or lifts, horizontal conveyancing and diagonally angular ascents or descents. Her body is a point in motion co-ordinating with other point/bodies. Dot becomes line which transmutes into plane.

I think Mrkusich is a formalist, despite his denial of that in various catalogues over the years. He is a formalist to be much admired. You don’t need to grasp the early history of science and philosophy to appreciate the elegance and contemplative serenity of these works. The symbolic content is a footnote, not the main essay.

It is no surprise that his artist’s statement at Newcall, a sheet of writing describing its own production processes and created while he was taking a shower, is the best item in the show. This artist has a real instinct for language and keeping it fresh. He knows how to adapt, shape and effectively pace his written thoughts, thoroughly keep track of all his various senses, and incorporate precise detail.

This substantial loop made of hundreds of joined up (pressed) daisies, held aloft by over fifty glass stanchions, is a sight to behold. It is not optically spectacular - though it is beautifully understated and extremely fragile - but it is a clever idea.

These domiciles are in themselves impersonal and characterless (they have an anonymity that induces despair) but photographed this way they could almost be described as ‘sweet’ or ‘pretty’. At first glance they take on an austere but tawdry modernist glamour. You have to look closely to see the hideous peeled wallpaper, stained mattresses, paper thin curtains or holes in the walls.