PRINTMAKING IS ASSOCIATED with such venerable artists as Albrecht Dürer and Hiroshige Utagawa, but also with rock-club posters. The latter tradition is more meaningful to Carlos Hernandez, whose vivid and playful work is surveyed in Pyramid Atlantic Art Center’s “Mixed Up, Cut Up.” Visitors may almost hear echoes of the Ramones’s “Teenage Lobotomy” (the inspiration for one print) as they peruse the Houston artist’s silkscreen, linocut, and letterpress efforts. These boast bright colors and bold typography, and are populated by skulls, alligators and rattlesnakes, and a whole passel of sexy cowgirls.

The selection includes some actual show placards, advertising appearances by the likes of Southern Culture on the Skids. But more typical are mashups — both visual and conceptual — that promote an imagined mid-20th-century dreamworld where rock’n’roll mates promiscuously with horror comics and sci-fi B-movies. Characteristic, and characteristically outrageous, is a depiction of Buddy Holly, red-hot beams emanating from his eyes and black blood dripping from his mouth. He’s a vampire, space alien, and long-lost Texas rock exemplar all in one.

The artist’s sensibility is consistent, but his style varies. Some prints are black with just one hue — usually pink or red — as an accent. Others are a riot of imagery and color, intricately overlaid and confidently overdone. A few are physical collages, assembled from strips and circles cut from screenprints. There’s even a mostly abstract “Jazz Kitty” in which a feline face is the only representational element amid gray and black arcs, circles, and squiggles.

Whatever the format, Hernandez usually grounds his imagery in the most lurid of 1950s and ’60s adolescent fever dreams. In his poster for International Clash Day 2023, trumpeting the song title “Death or Glory,” the printmaker depicts a skull gripped in a hand made of fire. It’s an apt metaphor for Hernandez’s incendiary approach: ink applied with mature precision to portray a land set ablaze by teenage attitude.