Nancy Shaver’s work seems to fall into two categories: one that suggests but does not provide content, and another that makes a point of presenting something null in content’s usual place. Boats, 1988, is an example of a piece that suggests content, functioning as a receptacle for generic associations about childhood, bathing, lakes, or boating. It consists of a smallish, weathered iron trough, near which sit two paper boats, one slightly larger than the other. All three items are placed on the floor. The objects contrast visually and functionally: the trough is heavy, worn, utilitarian, and

In terms of painting as a sensuous articulation of lines and masses of color, Renee Petropoulos’ work is remarkable. Her surfaces are luscious; her vocabulary of color, extensive. The works’ animated bearing is both audible and seductive. Her brushwork functions as syntax. It’s rendered in an optical cadence, communicated in deliberate, tactile syllables. All of these paintings have a rational madness about them. They speak their piece in a thorough, self-possessed manner, yet their message is inexplicably maniacal and threatening. For instance, The Wreath, The Vine, 1987, is loaded with the