"Susan Aydan Abbott, meanwhile, looks further inward, finding outward expression for emotional trauma. Septic Wound, a perverse welcome mat of sorts, greets visitors at the front entrance. The sheet of filthy linoleum is covered with paint, studded with cigarette butts and carved all over with accusations ("crazy," "joke," "witness," "whore"). Condoms, a beer bottle and more cigarettes are swept under one corner, and a ghostly replica cast in resin and fibreglass, Battle Scar, hangs overhead like a ripped-off scab or bandage. A stuttering tower of self-portraits similarly pair naked, even artless emotion with a sensitive, savage and formally inventive approach to material and process. Abbott’s images feel hard-won, and they command attention." -Steven Leyden Cochrane


"Susan Aydan Abbott’s four-component, no-holds-barred installation forcefully confronts us with yet another painful truth. Failure to protect the vulnerable (in particular, children) leaves a legacy of unimaginable suffering and grief that endures for a lifetime and well beyond. When does the collateral damage end?" -Sigrid Dahle, curator for Canary in the Coal Mine