where she has lived ever since, it was 1994, about a year after graduating from the Slade School of Art. She came to the United States as a budding painter in rebellion against the conceptual inclinations of the Young British Artists (YBAs). Brown, you might say, became a standard-bearer for another kind of YBA. After all, she was also young, British, and an artist—one, however, who exuberantly and fearlessly wielded a brush dipped into thick dabs of (wonderfully) messy, smelly, voluptuous paint. She arrived at a time when the medium, declared dead in the 1970s, was undergoing a resurrection, a rehabilitation. Her paintings, assuming a non-partisan stance, embraced both abstraction and figuration, toggling between the two: some more figurative, others more abstract. They were, and are, densely painted, the eye stumbling over the brushwork, the imagery tantalizingly elusive as if playing hide-and-seek with the viewer, surfacing, submerging, in visual turmoil, collision bound. Her color scheme often suggests rococo boudoirs: pinks, roses, corals, mauves, creamy whites, yellows, pale greens, and blues. It can also burst
