For many years, my brother owned Hanover Square Gallery in downtown Manhattan where he exhibited early 20th century American paintings.  I visited frequently, and soon grew envious of the artists and their dynamic range of expression.  I was especially taken by the Precisionists, painters who reimagined the gritty landscape of factories, skyscrapers, suspension bridges, coal stacks, steel girders, etc.

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In the 80s, much of New York's industrial infrastructure was failing. Its aging power plants, crumbling highways and piers, vacant warehouses and rusting tracks, were encircled by a restless city.  I was interested in these obsolete structures, ill-fitted to a modern skyline.  I shot mostly at dusk, drawn to the iridescent hues of the fading light.  I had also become preoccupied with the Abstract Expressionists and how they used the canvas to explore their inner worlds.  For nearly a decade I explored the city's industrial fringe, increasingly abstracting the image.

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Eventually, I left the city for more bucolic settings, finding new inspiration in the woods and wetlands, the high desert of New Mexico, the vast prairies of Eastern Oregon, and the stark beauty of the Badlands of South Dakota.  Similar to my urban work, I explored the fringes of the natural world in search of unnoticed or overlooked elements. 

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My recent series include the study of distant horizons and their components - where hills meet the sky or shorelines meet the sea.  Lacking much detail, I'm reminded of color field paintings and how these natural contours help define large swathes of color.  ​