Her largely reduced tonal palette allows a space to emerge that quietly vibrates between the dermis of the paintings and the half-shadow that exists between their viscous gestures. One thinks of Tanizaki’s recollection in In Praise of Shadows of Louis Kahn’s observation: “The sun never knew how wonderful it was until it fell on the wall of a building.” The undulating topography of Leong’s surfaces fulfils a similar possibility. 

The accumulation of her brushstrokes resists obvious pattern and system. Instead, they form a natural, web-like cohesion that holds the composition just sufficiently for us to feel that what we are apprehending is transitory— like holding water.

Agnes Martin’s statement makes it evident that memory or rather a shared consciousness is as vital to the apprehension of painting, as is “what is seen.” Leong’s paintings very much evidence that vision itself is an act of remembrance – that the constituency of the painting, its union of material and gesture, is a celebration of perception and recollection.