Some of the greatest moments that come with engaging with art are moments of conversion. This happened to me with Dana Frankfort’s work, which read as standoffish when I first encountered it. The power of the conversion is that the work still reads that way, and it’s become quality that holds my attention. Because of their standoffish quality, which is almost alienating at times, my relationship to the paintings is complicated in a way it rarely is with any other art. The paintings seem expressive, and perhaps are, but they are also deeply, profoundly autonomous—autonomous both, I think, from the viewer and from the artist.