We can move from more to less - for less is, after all, more - in our observations. The most complex of the images is The Fourth Dimension, in which various geometries - three circles, their diameters spoked in color - mark the angles of a forceful isosceles triangle, deployed against a shadowy grid. Adumbrations of falling figures above and below play against the basic geometry of the piece. Why do I think of concentration-camp photos when I should be focusing on powerful theoretical abstractions, like the fourth dimension? Because the fourth dimension is time, and time is the seed of memory, and memory hovers on the brink of repression, and the repressed returns in the form of the uncanny, and the geometric abstraction, the Kantean Idea of the circles and triangles, is mocked by the shadowy Unheimlichkeit of the human presences that drift into the pure white space, like thistledown on snow.

In Shards of Glass, the limits of inscrutabliity are reached within what is nevertheless a narrative framework. Rectangles of color, larger and smaller, nearer and further, like the hovering windows of a city, or like simple formal elements, seem to float on the surface of the whiteness; to the left, two phallic forms; at the bottom, a boat, a bathtub, with a tiny, minimal, pathetic black figure suspended, or more accurately, draped, on the rim. The glass in question seems to be falling from his/her body. It falls in neat but ominous triangles. Krystallnacht? Suicide? Memory of some childhood accident? The mystery is a dark one. And what of the strange black cord descending from the upper right-hand corner? What role does it play in this hushed drama of inscrutable forces? In Age of Innocence, balance seems to be at stake, or the lack of it, balance and the loss of balance; clarity and its reduction to a smudge or a stain.