Michael Andrews’ work on display at Gagosian is many things - breakthrough is certainly not a word I would use. But like the regaling of a grandparent, there are things that can be moving, troubling and self-revelatory. Appropriately titled EARTH AIR WATER, the paintings never stray far from a Sunday painter looking out their garden window or in their fish tank. But even Forest Gump made people cry. The ménage à trois of landscapes feel wonderfully vivid - the countryside vistas took me back to the South Downs and the small lanes I used to cycle down. In the surreal (and what feels like conceptually abstract) vision of 'Cabin' (1975) a passenger aircraft flies over and observes the city below, but the artist and the viewer are yet higher still - watching the plane beneath us, and the ground beneath that. Painting for Andrews is about elevating vision beyond that of mere gazing. We are inexorably connected to the elements that we observe through our bodies, but experience in our souls; painting (like Grandpa's sentimental ramblings) enables us to draw parallels, to reassociate and reinterpret vistas from our past, and the horizons of our futures.