Honesty is the source of all boldness. Ironically, it is also the source of all balance. Mark Davis's most recent sculpture combines similar kinds of boldness and balance, forthrightness and equilibrium, insight and integrity. His work is moving, subtly and palpably, toward the sort of luminous and visionary sparkle I associate with the dying, the Buddha and the newly minted. It's the real thing. I don't know if it's always been the case that the bases of Davis's sculptures declared themselves as balletic leaps, but they do now. It's easy enough to attend to the ethereal, kinetic upper machinations of each of these works, just as it's easy to let one's eyes fall only on the ballerina soaring mid air in a pas-de-deux. Harder to attend is the male behind her, the hands at the waist, the fixed legs. In the same way, the places where Davis's constructions meet the ground prove self-effacing but crucial to an appreciation of his masterful choreography.

ROGER BOWMAN

Wise friends and good professors quickly deduce that a quiet invitation usually elicits more interest than an opinion or assignment. That gentle tap on the shoulder is what best captures our imagination, suggests a potential revelation, or shares a secret. The paintings in this series are examples of Roger Bowman's quiet invitation to contemplate worlds set apart. They are microcosms: beautifully rendered perfections that embrace imperfection. They are moments in time: invented realities made richer for their surreal implausibility. New initiates intrigued by the exquisite simplicity of Bowman's compositions are soon captured by the potential revelations found in these opposites. It's no secret that Roger Bowman has much to share.