Though his name bespeaks English rivers, Avon Waters paints like a Frenchman come to the rural loveliness of Midwestern America. Which Frenchman? Think late Matisse, the one of fading eyesight and watery gardens; plus Odilon Redon, though backgrounds only; and perhaps also the Fauves, but just for the wild colors, not the heavy outlines. Working with pastel, often outdoors, and under the influence of harmonious musical and natural sounds, Waters creates lush landscapes that verge into abstraction then veer back into more recognizable territory. Like his art historical predecessors, he has a knack for finding the colors in forests and ponds that most of us fail to seepinks and lilacs, indigos and turquoises, even neon orange and lime green. If that sounds less than picturesque, it isnt, indeed it is unfailingly beautiful, a quality which Waters amplifies by leaving out the one element that nearly always mucks up the scenery: humans.