The Gagosian Gallery on West 24th Street is a great space to begin with.  Like many Chelsea galleries, which are converted warehouses and garages, it’s a broad, clean space.  But the Gagosian is twice the size of neighboring galleries and, when properly choreographed, a fantastic backdrop for contemporary art.  I saw Damien Hirst’s first New York show there, dazzled by the formaldehyde tanks holding a shark and (in transverse slices) a cow.  And I saw Richard Serra’s 2003 show there, thunderstruck by the grandeur of the immense, curved steel forms.

The current exhibit of painter Rudolf Stingel’s work is a similar kind of knock-out.  Not the art, mind you, but the exhibit.  Stingel’s paintings, all super-sized, aren’t memorable but they have richly textures surfaces.  The large entrance gallery, which features three portraits on three separate walls, is boldly unnerving.  The largest gallery, which contains seven gold color-field canvases, has a lyrical, romantic feeling.  And passing through the narrow back gallery lined with silver carpet paintings feels like a giddy, Pop Art daydream.  Say what you will about their curatorial efforts; the people over at the Gagosian know how to put on a show.