"And please do not touch the art, of course." Thus concludes the woman at the front desk of Inverleith House on the Botanical Gardens grounds, where the exceptional Karla Black exhibition is being held. This was not an easy warning to heed: Black's work physically blurs the line between where the gallery space ends and the art begins. Covering three floors, the works transform the area whilst the viewer's expectations are piqued only to be challenged. The dynamics of texture, scale, and placement in space are all materials in Black's palette, who spent two weeks in Inverleith House perfecting the display.

Behind the first door, the floor of a large room almost entirely consumed by a cake of dirt splashed with pink and blue coloured sand. The viewer can barely make their way about it, from a segment dissolving into the floor to the marred corner, from which it appears that someone has taken a substantial bite.

There are small rooms barely used, plastic suspended from the ceiling, and amorphous risings from the hardwood floors. Other sections house imagined forms like the time-stripped skeleton of a vertebrate rose, curled as a snake.

The most skilful dynamic is the sudden inclusion of the figurative paintings of Bet Low, which are as abstract as they are thoroughly Romantic, reduced to their most essential lines; waving hills and the horizon. Each planar surface on the canvas has its own texture; where Black's work blends with the gallery proper, Low's paintings take the abstract space and hang it back upon the wall.