Catherine Haggarty | The Continuum of Drawing at Field Projects Gallery | Art Savvy | 2019

In her show, ‘I’ll Draw You a Fly’, Nedham shows us divergence in a seamless way. Her mastery of drawing is convincing enough that I might believe these objects were in front of me – but that’s not the point. The drawings act like offerings, often singular subjects shown on 8×10 inch paper and grouped together.

Jamie Martinez | Interview | 5-50 Gallery | 2019

…and I wondered, having been dead for three decades, if she could talk what would she say after all this time? Would she be righteous? Apologetic? What could we learn from her radical conservation approach? (Artist speaking about Dian Fossey).

Priscilla Frank | Six Women Artists Celebrate the Power of the Cigarette at INVISIBLE-EXPORTS | 2016

Amanda Nedham‘s sculptures transform cigarettes into Gumby-esque limbs, contorted and colored to resemble a perched ostrich in one piece, a mountain gorilla in another. The animals converge around a cigarette placed in a wooden box, a coffin of sorts...

Emily Colucci | Smoke ‘Em if You Got ‘Em: “Friday Smoked” at INVISIBLE-EXPORTS | 2016

Like Getz’s cigarette collages, Amanda Nedham’s drawings also indicate the addiction of smoking and its relation to time, linking the daily need for a nicotine-fix with the urge to draw. With works like They burn everything here, which depicts an open pack of cigarettes next to a lighter, Nedham’s drawings sport frayed edges as if they were violently and suddenly ripped from a much-used private notebook. Through her paper’s worn imperfections, Nedham relates smoking with the enduring compulsion for artistic creation.

Terence Dick, Akimbo | Amanda Nedham at LE Gallery | 2012

Which is to say that the skull and scissors hanging off the immense chandelier make sense until you try to make sense of them. Or the tapestry-wrapped powerboat is rendered as perfectly normal and only unravels (in a good way) once you try to figure out the connection between the two. Which brings us to the third thing you notice which is that Nedham is messing with your mind.

Murray Whyte, The Toronto Star | Amanda Nedham’s History of Violence | 2012

The show is called “Half Of Less Than Ten” — we’ll get to that — and as Nedham puts it, “it’s really about the pathology of desire.” Napoleon and Josephine are a tidy metaphor for the concerns she’s been working through most of her young career.

Murray Whyte, The Toronto Star | Primal Urges: Amanda Nedham at LE Gallery | 2010

Those who know her work won't be surprised to find it once again locked in visceral critique with the human impulse for forced servitude to our animal-world workhorses -- dogs, of course, and, well, horses. Nedham's primary concern is a conceptual taxonomy of the man-beast relationship.

R.M. Vaughan, Globe and Mail | Demonic Meets Dainty in Amanda Nedham’s Animal Art | 2010

The demonic and the dainty have rarely been so expertly, unnervingly combined. You will gasp at Nedham’s imagery, and then take another hiccupping inhale over her masterful drafting skills.

Gary Michael Dault, Globe and Mail | Chains, Garden Hoses and Brute Loveliness | 2010

In the back gallery – tucked away darkly as if in a cave – is Amanda Nedham’s sepulchral, operatic installation, Generals Always Die in Bed. Here, in a room that is both crude and brutal (it is roughly constructed of wood) and, at the same time, oddly ornate (the artist describes it as “Versaillesesque”), there is a massive wooden bed which is also, so it would appear (with restraints etc.). a torture machine.

Leah Sandals, National Post | Art as Agenda | 2010

Toronto’s Nedham, already known for meticulous drawings on themes of cruelty and torture, here creates a large, ominously darkened room out of scrap wood. The opaqueness of Nedham’s technique – with even the room’s windows rendered in timber – ricochets off Deslauriers’ light, airy approach quite nicely.

Gary Michael Dault, Globe and Mail | The True North, Plastic and Dyspeptic | 2010

Nedham’s exhibition of delicate, dangerous, historically and anthropologically anointed drawings is almost as exhausting as it is exhilarating. It is exhilarating because her drawings are so ambitious, because she has attempted so much. It is exhausting because each of these exquisitely-wrought, superbly worked images is made to bear a ponderous weight of reading and research.