Held hostage on a fictional desert island in Dana Schutz’s imagination, Frank is painted repeatedly, his lonely shipwrecked life put under the constant scrutiny of her brush. Obsessively reinventing his nature to her whim; Dana Schutz’s resulting paintings play out the dynamics of power struggle between creator and invention. In Frank in the Desert, Frank is now a hairy wild man, the do-gooder care worker or renegade ecologist of female fantasy. Dana Schutz paints her victim with sly familiarity: he’s fed up with the joke. Schutz retaliates by giving him sunburnt and blistered arms.