Robert Yasuda

[4][5][6] Since the 1990s, he has focused on paintings that disrupt conventional formats using hand-carved wood panels and custom framing elements, upon which he builds multi-layered iridescent surfaces that respond dynamically to shifting conditions of light, time and vantage.

[7][1][2] Over time, he has moved beyond formal minimalism toward more subjective and sensual work that seeks to visually convey moments of perception and insight, along with allusions to nature and his heritage, including impressions of Hawaii and Florida and his childhood teachings in Buddhism.

[36] In two exhibitions at Elizabeth Harris Gallery (1993, 1996), Yasuda presented large abstractions combining rectangular wood panels placed side-by-side or stacked, which New York Times critic Pepe Karmel compared to pairs and quartets of monochrome canvases by Brice Marden.

[7][37] Critics noted in these paintings a quiet optical effect of inner light, achieved through Yasuda's alternating layers of translucent color and scrim-like, stretched fabric, the tight weave adding a grid-like formality over autumnal and spring-like shades of gray, green, tan, blue and grey.

"[7] In the 2000s, Yasuda exhibited work at Elizabeth Harris (2002–6) and Sundaram Tagore (2010, 2014) that critics increasingly defined by its luminosity, lyricism, eccentrically shaped supports, and subtle emphasis on states of mind (Bliss, 2001; Harmony, 2005) and ephemeral aspects of water, light, air, form and color (e.g., Footprint, 1998; Vapor, 2001; Wind, 2002).

[2][1][3] During this period, he increasingly hand-crafted his shaped panels with refined idiosyncrasies that played with expectations and thwarted their geometric aspects to otherworldly effect: bowed supports, protruding edges, gentle curves, clefts and contoured or feathered corners that suggested impermanence and motion.

[1][8][3] In a Brooklyn Rail review, Michael Brennan writes that this hands-on craftsmanship "is essential to [the] works' poetic aura," and echoing others, relates the panels to the aerodynamic shaping of surfboards, part of Yasuda's experience in his native Hawaii.

[2][10] Critics suggest that the disturbances in Yasuda's panel shapes offset his harmonious color treatment, at that time, mottled shades of blue, grey, green, warm pink or gold that Barbara MacAdam wrote "resemble pockets carved out of atmosphere or the surface of the ocean.

"[10][1][38] In the middle of the decade, he increasingly turned to interference paints yielding more intense, silvery tones that shift according to vantage point and light source and were compared to the pearlescence of interior abalone shells or the iridescence of butterflies and exotic fish.

[2][9] His 2006 and 2010 shows offered narrow corner paintings (e.g., Beacon 2005; Guardian, 2009) that function like vertical studs or posts and appear as part of the gallery structure; Michael Brennan compared their rigor, atmospherics, and reflected iridescence to the light sculptures of Dan Flavin.