In my original gallery, the two paintings “Dog Woman” and “Susanna and the Elders” hung across a long dim hallway from each other, both at eye level and the only brilliantly illuminated points in an otherwise heavy room. These two images paired contain a sense of duality, of completeness. Here is a woman, dignified but exploited, and here is a woman who leaves the concept of a “lady” behind, tapping into a primal rage. Watched and watching, they are flip sides of the same being. Into this twisted sisterhood we introduce an unlikely third sibling, the painting “Midday Drinking Den, after Embah I,” very recent work by Lisa Brice. The oversaturated red and blue surely enrich the room in sharp contrast to the muted earth tones of Tintoretti’s Susanna and the more realistic peaches and blues of Rego’s woman. The Brice painting comes with a twist — it is at once intoxicating and challenging. Hanging in the center of the hallway, directly in between the original works, Brice’s figure turns to face the viewer, clearly ignoring a potential seated spectator within the scene to pose for our eyes instead. She is naked, quite literally spreading herself open to the camera as another woman watches in the background, melting into a hazy red distance. Brice’s woman is unafraid and unapologetic. She is not threatened by voyeuristic looks, she seeks them out. She is bolder than Susanna, less physically enraged than the Dog Woman. She makes us aware that there are different types of power, and that her methods are potentially just as powerful as those of Rego’s heroine. Brice’s woman is sexy and daring, she challenges us in a third sense, forcing her audience to see her as a person with agency above all else. What does it mean for her to stare down the viewer? For Rego’s figure to hold a gaze just to the viewer’s side? For Susanna to make eye contact with only her own reflection? Each approach is a new way of seeing and of questioning.