" ‘The Crimes of Paris’ is such an irresistible phrase: Elvis Costello used it for a nasty, pointed little tune; it turns up as the title of a book about the theft of the Mona Lisa; and of course there is always the crime that stole the face that launched a thousand ships. For me, and especially when I am in that beloved city, the crimes were committed in July 1942, the roundup of Jews known by the name of a bicycle velodrome: le Vel d’Hiv. I’ve painted any number of history-paintings, and for some years in a kind of blunt realism; quite a few have dealt with the Soviet Union of my birth. By the time ‘Crimes’ was painted I no longer felt the need to push my subjects to the apron of the stage, and was once again freely improvising. Besides, the wheels in this velodrome are too squishy, deflated or broken to turn. As always, what signals to me that a painting is going well is the quality of the light. Here, a subdued radiance dominates, rising finally to a way out."