The surging crest of Robert Colescott's work, its interconnectedness no less then its pulsating and continuous confrontational thrust, has catapulted viewers into self-questioning bordering on discomfort. This discomfort affects everyone. Over dressed-men and under dressed-woman are both black and white; so are misogynists, murderers, philanderers, and just plain lazy bums. Not only does he "mock our anxiety" about race but he "never doesn't talk about race and he never talks about it only;" his joyous state, replete with "sonorous tumbling, shady joy, sex, love, money, music, art, memories, and comfort food" are present in all their glory, yet so are racism, sexism, poverty, murder, hate, avarice, envy and deceit. All, propelled by an overreaching consumerism, twirl through a spectacular frenzy of color and form to become paintings so masterful on so many levels that one's breath is taken away. It is an honor and intense pleasure to be representing Robert Colescott at the Phyllis Kind Gallery.

Quotes from: "Walk This Way" by Peter Schjeldahl, The Village Voice,
June 2, 1998