What separates Kacere from his fellow Photo Realists is that he has no interest in recording the complex banality of diners, pickup trucks, suburban streets, small town movie theaters, western horse shows and all of the slices of Americana that they depict. Nor is he interested in how the eye makes meaning out of the optical signals of a photograph. His themes are those of obsession. For Kacere, the cascade of drapery of a raised skirt, the buttocks or mons veneris seen through bikini briefs, the garter belts and the sheer stockings are not only the trappings of seduction. They are a kit of parts, as were Morandi's humble jars and bottles, that give him the formal elements with which to construct his erotic icons. For almost twenty years, he has delicately rearranged the parts, varying the models and their garb, but they have all been visions of the same Goddess. Any one of his best works would have been sufficient homage to the Goddess, but can a painter ever say "Well I did it" and put away his brushes. Kacere keeps pursuing his obsession. "Perfection" is a demanding task/mistress. Paul Brach East Hampton, N.Y.

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