Roper's exuberant paintings and sculptures are the embodiment of a creative soul coming to grips with the challenges that lurk in the clutter of assumed normality. Staring down his Beasties, Roper gives them form, imbuing them with ferocity, failings and fabulous humour. - Stephen Randall
And if anyone, or should I say, anything could poke and prod our souls and imaginations they are the hellishly devilish, and yet somewhat endearing critters that have crawled out from the mind of Steve Roper – a cross between the Big Red Rock Eater of my childhood and the Chapman Bros Exquisite Corpse multi-eyed, multi-mouthed monsters that have morphed off the wall and become the be-horned bovine beer-swilling wild things (as in the book) that roll their terrible eyes and gnash their terrible teeth (see Brother in Law from Hell!) - Dr. Sarah Rice
We hesitate to compare Canberra artist Steve Roper with Rembrandt but one thing they may have in common is the unflatteringly honest self-portrait. As Rembrandt aged he continued to portray himself exactly as he was, portraying his nose as the increasingly potato-looking thing it had turned into. Now, in his ceramic Portrait of the Artist as a Cartoon Character Roper has depicted himself very much as he is but has also imparted a little Wallace and Gromit spin to the portraiture. Roper emerges as a kind off Canberra Wallace. This column has sung Roper's praises before. With painting and sculpture he dabbles in the surreal and we know readers look to this column for some surreal relief from the real world, so relentlessly described on the other pages of this worldly metropolitan daily. A visit to Roper's garden festooned with ceramic oddities has left a strong impression on me. Now it is time to point to a forthcoming exhibition of his new works, one of which is the self-portrait that stares out (a little scarily) from today's page. - Ian Warden, March 2016