"The centripetal abstract sculptures in David McDonald's "Self Portraits" sit on the floor. They are agglomerations, about a yard tall, of unglamorous materials (cement, scrap wood, rebar, wire) with a vertical—dare we say phallic?—core. You look down at them as you would at friendly dogs. Good, concise sculpture is relatively rare these days, and Mr. McDonald succeeds by taking a risk with physical modesty. His pieces aren't flashy, but are astutely assembled and intriguing in their confined manner. But are these "self portraits" really, as the gallery claims, his "most personal" works? He deserves the benefit of the doubt."
- Peter Plagens