It seems strange to say it, but Greig's latest collection of images are brighter and more cheerful than most of his recent work. The artist has been shaking away his own demons, and the figures within his private nightmare world of prints - though still dark and menacing - have the allure of sunken beauty rather than of the fetid breath of death.
This is particularly the case with the larger monoprints, a series of five of which hang together on one wall of the gallery. Colours flare deep from within the darkness in these works, their solitary female figures simultaneously beguiling and threatening, strongly daring us to steel ourselves for a journey through the blooms and colours of the abyss but to a redemptive world beyond. It is this redemptive conclusion which sets these works apart from Greig's previous art.
As always, the images are handled with subtlety and artistic dexterity; the figures are haunting and the journey, though daunting, is well worth taking.
While in many ways a continuation of the artist's previous paintings, there is a distinct feeling of connectedness and almost intimacy in several of these pieces which suggests that the artist has truly found a home and creative spark in his new surroundings. Whereas earlier works showed broad, wave-filled seas or wide expanses of harbour dotted with coastal buildings, here the views glimpse at the sea between the dunes or deal with the private moments of a girl playing on the sand or beach walkers.
The old themes still show through, notably in the panoramic view of the posts at St Clair beach, but in views such as Dune Views and Brighton Rock, there is a connectedness between land and sea and true sense of place that his earlier works to some extent lacked. The use of the paint is almost gentle - the colours flow on like deep watercolours, giving the works an added feeling of peace.
Richard Munro describes his series of photographs, "Dunedin by numbers, pt. 1", as a study of "everyday art". It is a psycho-geographical tour through the Dunedin wharf area, concentrating on the building numbers painted or attached to the outside of buildings.
These numbers become magical tokens, holding the residual memories and histories of the buildings. They are features seen every day, yet never noticed, unique icons of the urban landscape.
The photographs capture something of this essence, and are simultaneously a case study in how to compose artistic images of architectural features.
Facing this display is another series of urban photographs, this time by Murray Eskdale. Where Munro picked out single features, Eskdale's "Building something real" focuses on the repetitive facades of buildings, homing in on the rhythms of windows and panels.
As if to confirm minimalist musician John Cage's axiom that repetition is a form of change, our eyes are drawn to the subtle differences in the outwardly identical features - the half-opened curtain, the chipped panel.
Eskdale has emphasised the repetitions in several works by duplicating the patterns within each work, building up a hypnotic mosaic of glass and wall.
