If paintings had to worry about their diets, Yvette Gellis’ would be on their way to a heart attack. The large canvases in Gellis’ solo debut would be better described as slathered than brushed, with a rich combination of acrylic and oil paint, and a honeylike Galkyd medium. Looking at them, I couldn’t help but think of an episode of The Simpsons in which Bart, compelled by Homer to eat buttered bacon, complained, “My heart hurts.” But the goo in Gellis’ paintings has less a savory taste on one’s eyes than a combined suggestion of the chemical and the confectionery — sludge meets cake frosting with dashes of lipstick and glitter. Laid on the surface, all that material also adds up to a dose of gestural figuration, foregrounded in each canvas against backdrops of interior architecture and cityscape that are much more leanly rendered in lighter brushwork, thinner paint, straight lines and a grayed-out palette. The lesser of these paintings seem to hedge their bets in an effort to please, offering up relatively conventional sketches with a dollop of texture and a splash of color, like hosts wanting to indulge but not sicken their guests. But the stronger pieces, which push their materials and their compositions to what seems a risk of structural failure — and which also risk nausea — become richer as both material experiences and metaphors. Kim Light Gallery, 2656 S. La Cienega Blvd., L.A.; Tues.-Sat., 11 a.m.-6 p.m.; thru July 12. (310) 559-1111 or www.kimlightgallery.com.