Whether his canvases are ironic, cartoonlike, or deliberately fast and sloppy—or executed with some other style or strategy—they resist the medium’s historical gravity. On top of this, the image never stands alone, but is typically accompanied by narrative. In this midcareer survey, “Daywalker, giv slip” (Daywalker, Let Go), it is clear that blood is currently agreeable to his imagination. In an eponymous semiautobiographical diary that functioned as an exhibition catalogue, the artist confesses to having a secret life as a vampire who commits a veritable genocide of members of Copenhagen’s so-called creative class, which has, he claims, in recent years inflated art and therefore must be bled dry. Like all proper satire, the vampire story is an extravagant joke that won’t make everybody laugh. However,