Stop telling me painting is dead. It’s alive and well, in case you were wondering. Or at least Maximilian Arnold’s painting is, if you look at *a deep scrub*, his second solo show at DUVE Berlin. I mean not “alive and well” like you’d say with bitterness about some ancient wealthy aunt who refuses to die and is gonna bequeath everything she owns to her evil, equally ancient Persian cat anyway . In this case, “alive and well” would rather imply the state in which a member of the X-Men would find themselves after the classical, Hollywoodian crescendo: from doubt through crisis and confrontation with oneself to a superior state beyond the usual struggles. Arnold’s painting is basically Jean Grey, before she turned into a destructive entity with the eyes of a raven and the temper of an Italian tourist discovering his hotel bathroom doesn't have a bidet.