On the road between here and there are anonymous structures, mere rest stops for most of us. But not for Trevor Young. Where some see purgatory, he sees and paints an oasis; a portal becomes a destination. Young’s “non-places” coax us down the highway with their seductive smell of familiarity and french fries. His paintings are composites made of a lifetime of mental snapshots taken on countless trips to the drive-thru. We are simultaneously drawn to the slick veneers and repulsed by their lack of history. Young’s gas stations, retail mega-chains, fast-food restaurants, and airline terminals capture the conflict we feel about such shrines to modern capitalism.

Like all great love affairs, Trevor Young’s relationship with non-places is complex. His use of a traditional medium imbues them with a history they inherently lack, while his prolific practice reminds us that they are a dime a dozen. At once devotional images and mug shots, they marry optimism and cynicism. Lucky for us, they make a beautiful couple.