those human body shapes through the years and discarded them. Or perhaps in that side of his life where he deals with commercial concerns he has seen all of that, repeatedly, and has pre-edited those possibilities out of his work.

His work with the female nude explores fascinating areas. Historically women's bodies have been subjected to a continuous and ever-changing flow of representation. The ideal female form dangled in front of women's eyes by male artists through the centuries has at times emphasized large bosoms, then petite breasts; legs concealed by skirts and then legs, legs, legs in endless lengths; waists that are tiny as an hourglass and then a few years later waists that have dropped to the hips. This continuous shifting of exposed erogenous zones has left many women wondering what they, in fact, look like. John Casado presents us with women who are not sexual icons. Each woman has her own form. Each beautiful in their own way. They are not prototypical but highly individual.

The Casado photographs, with their frequent use of masks that hint at tribal sources in Africa or the Far East and even pre-historic sculpture, do not suggest that these figures are idols. With individual interpretation, they suggest threads of connection between us and the many varied forms in nature and the Gods.