“Merrill’s photographs have, for years, struck me as uncluttered by fad, as direct yet not devouring, as the product of a subtle poetic: that space is as much a comfort as it is an astonishment. There is a demureness about Merrill’s photos. They are retiring, though they raise directly from the most democratic and wide ranging and least fussy strands of modern art photography: Cartier-Bresson, Winogrand, Friedlander, Frank.”
—Ross Feld, novelist and critic
