389 Grand Street, between Essex and Clinton Streets, Lower East Side Through March 11 The strenuously athletic subjects of Nolan Hendrickson's new paintings seem to have learned their tricks from Picasso's harlequins, Marsden Hartley's beefcake beachcombers and Faith Ringgold's riotous protesters. Which is to say, they - and Mr. Hendrickson - are competing in a painterly Olympics of identity and desire. With flowers in their hair and tufts of chest hair protruding from their leotards and jockstraps, they swing from gymnastics rings or cartwheel across the canvas. Most have blue noses and kneepads of the same color; some have yellow stripes that run the length of their flat, rubbery limbs. Behind them are Roman arcades, Egyptian pyramids, and (in one perplexing instance) a "Connect 4" board. A broken fuchsia ribbon crossing the foreground of each painting could be a finish line, but it's hard to pick out a winner; the figures overlap with on another and sometimes seem to be merging with their own shadows. In Mr. Hendrickson's electric celebration of the active body, everything, including sexuality and the surface of the canvas, is in perpetual motion.