‘Not only are her paintings and photographs perplexing, absurd and even hilarious but thoroughly disturbing. Disturbing not because of some dramatic event or imminent disaster but because it isn’t immediately clear what she has done[…] Let alone why. She makes paintings that seem to resist conventional notions of identity and authorship. They appear to be the work of others-long dead. It’s as if they were torn from some alternative, but faintly familiar history, or parallel universe. A universe in which the likes of Carl Faberge not only makes the exquisite geegaws and trinkets of the aristocracy-but the aristocracy too.’ (Graham Crowley 2017)