"In a huge, empty room, a fat, dirty, greasy man was slapping white paint on a blank canvas with a kitchen knife. From time to time he would press his face against the window and look out at the storm. The sea came so close that it seemed to batter the house and completely envelope it in its foam and roar. The salty water beat against the windowpanes like hail, and ran down the walls. On his mantelpiece was a bottle of cider next to a half-filled glass. Now and then, Courbet would take a few swigs, and then return to his work. This work became The Wave, and caused quite a sensation around the world”. (x)
"In ‘Fume’, Kate literally and metaphorically plays with fire; a hole burnt into the pages of a hand-made book resembles an inverted flower. The unexpected beauty and fragility of the incinerated pages, however, is subverted by the heresy of the action."