From Vince Aletti’s review for The New Yorker:
Davis makes her substantial body—pale, pillowy, and often seen naked—the center of attention here, lighting it lovingly in patches of buttery sun and sometimes picturing herself with a lover. Made over the past eleven years, the self-portraits are carefully staged, but the moments of anxiety, discomfort, and pleasure they convey never feel performative. Like Nan Goldin, Davis knows how to both confront and seduce the camera, and her strong persona is inspiring. Through July 3.