Rich’s photography is like a sharp blow to the solar plexus, and/or a poke in both eyes with sharp sticks…where the sticks go into your brain, and thence to your heart… Alternatively piquant and insouciant, his Art manages a deft soft shoe, a veritable Morris Dance combining the horizontal and the vertical, the co… Read more

Rich’s photography is like a sharp blow to the solar plexus, and/or a poke in both eyes with sharp sticks…where the sticks go into your brain, and thence to your heart… Alternatively piquant and insouciant, his Art manages a deft soft shoe, a veritable Morris Dance combining the horizontal and the vertical, the color and the shape, the left and the right, and, yes, the down and the up. By turns disarming and louche, his Art belches life into our two-dimensional pixilated flickr cosmos. It puts one in the mind of sidewalks and brickbats, of kittens and vultures, of sleet and pomegranates. And always the terrible gaping maw of Reality. His Art is like unto a fist, reaching into one’s brain. If such a thing were possible. Whither, Garella? Whither, indeed…