You can see each’s each: Walzack’s hypertrophied-conceptual scribing, Vena’s noxious cold power plant contemporary and for whom both’s sterility is marginally eased by Miko’s cartoony claustrophobic hells.
It’s after all a Real Fine crowd, and predicts a fashionable futurity - reboot set designed for a future 2001 clockwork decor, updated in graffito’s newly neutered formalism, predicted. Tomorrow’s neo-liberal home trickled down to Ikea bourgeois - in the future. In the future this is what it’s all going to look like, you’re upper class highschooler’s bedroom, rendered here now in front of you. Well not really, its mostly just the toxic mindsets of contemporary painters, a theater stage that like all “futuristic” is just a hyperbole of the present.