“In her subtle, trademark shifting between the intimate, personal space of a few individuals and the cavernous, echoing ambiguity of larger, moral questions, [Sachs] stakes out unsettling territory concerning what it means—what it feels like—to be made into unwitting voyeurs of mankind’s most grotesque doings. (…) she is also talking (…) about the way that all artists are, in the end, engaged in the task of the translator: stuck with the impossible task of rendering imponderables, unutterables, and unsayables into neat representations to be consumed, digested, perhaps discarded.” Shira Nayman