The gouaches are brilliant. They’re both exact and expansive. And in person they have a wonderful dry glow, a steppe-like climate, which would seem to an art dummy like me hard to achieve with the medium. When you see them up close it’s as if the tooth of the paper is painted but the valleys aren’t; how did you do that, some kind of transfer? Although asking this makes me feel reckless, in case my memory is playing tricks. But in memory the effect of the gouaches is a clean atmosphere, a dry-transparency of air not water, in some cases a transparency of earth, in fact, seen into without humid clinging or impeding weight. This may be sheer riffing, but I think I’m getting there. The paradox may be that the images are so consistently fertile, but then the steppes are fertile, too.
—Douglas Crase, poet and MacArthur fellow