From one end of the main gallery to the other, the work is arranged and rearranged to explain Dávila’s meditative needs. These were not at all “curated” in the traditional sense of being consciously ordered so as to explain themselves, but rather disposed to challenge each other and provoke discourse of imagery, volume, space and line. They are watchmen, totems, gateways; one has a sense of them as witnesses, soldiers, companions and places for exploration. Human in scale, they confront the viewer with the most probing of questions. They reach to poetic heights with often a magnificence that crushes the human heart. They have an epigrammatic wit; they do not bar our way; they stand witness for the everlasting record, the glass pieces reflecting our movement back to us in their clear surfaces. Thus, the viewer’s relationship to the sculpture is all at once casual, intimate and profound, as is appropriate to humans who share an ancestor.