Anne Wallace: Strange Ways
Each scene in Anne Wallace’s paintings is charged, expectant, as though something was looming – but always just out of frame. What lies beyond the balcony, down the road, behind the ‘black spot’ caused by foliage and trees, or beneath the furniture? Wallace grants us no more than is essential: imprints on satin bed sheets, an ashtray full of cigarettes, a glimpse of the horizon or
