Chinati Foundation

“There is an enigmatic quality to Davies’ images, and to the places they depict. Those places aren’t natural or unnatural: they’re neither, or both. Upon close viewing the perspective in the photos seems strange; the compositions seems to slip, come unstuck, decohere. The pictures bear a trace of something a bit uncanny, maybe because the places they depict are quietly but insistently someplace else—or at least the threshold to someplace else. The landscapes seem marked by a certain penumbral otherness. They’re liminal spaces: maybe a little magical, maybe a little cursed.”
- David Tompkins

 

East City Art

“The artist presages a moment in time when the natural world will quietly envelope manmade structures laid amidst its vastness, ironically noting that this very subsumption will fundamentally alter the natural world as well. We're watching change at a glacial, almost indescribably slow tempo with Davies acting as our metronome, each image visualizing another note in a symphony of time.”
- Eric Hope

 

Triple Canopy Magazine

“(The photographs) provoke a welling and profound sense of anxiety and unease, though the scenes depicted in each image are deceptively mundane: concrete walls atop barren plots, a pile of felled trees in gray woods, a view from the underside of a highway overpass. With their contemplative gaze and acute attention to formal composition, these natural tableaux are more reminiscent of portraiture than of traditional wide-angle landscape photography (as is the comparatively narrow scope of Davies’s lens). But these are portraits without sitters, without subjects. The camera records man’s imprint on the environment in the same way that expanding concentric circles travel through the ocean for days after a large ship has sunk, inscribing the water miles away. The locale has no explicit relationship with the disastrous event and yet bears the mark of its passing; what is pictured is not the landscape, but the faintest traces of its disturbance.”
- Taylor Baldwin