Gregory Crewdson's photographs are illuminated moments pregnant with literary possibilities. A barefoot, lingerie-clad woman stands in the middle of a suburban street, hesitating between a waiting taxi and a warm, lighted home. Is she a modern Emma Bovary about to elope with her rakish lover or a prodigal teenager returning home? A nude woman lies pensively on a stained mattress in a tropical forest, while a dark-skinned man, partially clothed, sits nearby with his back to the viewer. Is this a reenactment of the Fall of Eden or an interracial post-coital scene from a Faulkner novel? A set of photographs taken at the desolate backlot of Italy's Cinecittà studio evokes the tone of The Twilight Zone, while the "Fireflies" series provides a bittersweet ending, as swooning orbs of light recall Piet Mondrian's Broadway Boogie Woogie or bright notes in a jazz snippet--nostalgic yet still affirmative of the here and now. --Thuy Dinh, editor, Da Mau magazine