Often compared to Hieronymus Bosch, Banisadr’s portentous scenes are spellbinding in their finite description. From a distance their intensely busy surfaces appear to be rendered in microcosmic detail, yet when viewed close up, recognition dissolves into a frenzy of sensitive and compacted brush work. Banisadr handles paint with a sentient physicality, his extravagant textures and vibrant tones visually translate the experience of taste, smell, and especially sound into fields that extrapolate cacophonous rhythms. In Prisoners of The Sun (TV) this sensory disconcertment is echoed in its allusion to temporal collapse as antiquated scenes of imagined civilisations blend seamlessly with TV test patterns, the hard-edged geometry of mass media linking disquietly with the strata of ancient mysticism.