A group show drawn from local sources, of paintings, small sculptures, and large drawings, selected by the anonymous machinations of architectural firms, ends by signifying nothing. Almost surviving the general low level of collective taste are the more well known: Asmar, Falkenstein, LaChapelle, and Serisawa. One wonders to whom the blame should be assigned. If architecture is the mother of the arts, surely painting and sculpture deserve a more heartening fate than orphans in the storm, adrift, which is what they here appear to be.

—Fidel A. Danieli