What becomes a “painter’s painter” most? Alternatively, what becomes a painting-painted most? An expansive indeterminacy exists between these relative ideas raising the question as to which may hold more significance. Raoul De Keyser has often been labeled the former (a somewhat ambiguous cliché), but as this collection of his work reveals, his true focus seems to lie in perfecting the latter. His ability to playfully conjure a sense of unselfconsciousness gives his paintings, paradoxically, a rare authenticity, making them feel both dashed off and deeply considered. This subtle balance imparts his art with a unique, not exactly self-effacing character, a quiet confidence that eschews authorial approbation, but simply is—as though it could only be what it is. It’s this delicate play with the illusion of unselfconsciousness that, in the end, sustains his authorship—where an acute awareness of its impossibility somehow becomes the very ground for its realization.