That Morning (2006) is one of Goh's early installations put up in a large gallery space, in which monumental drawings are attached to the center and corners of the wall, with slim, tree-like poles rising upward, like a small copse. The central image consists of several sheets of paper (the one at the top is folded over), covered with randomly placed ovoid dots. One the corners of the wall’s two ends, two large, vertical, and amorphous black shapes establish a monumental presence, while the poles give the appearance of a denuded forest. Overall, the installation feels a lot like a woods come to grips with the end of the world—this despite the abstract nature of some of the imagery. In another corner of the space, a drawing of two horizontal shapes, much like boats, is installed, with two poles/trees set up before them. Goh’s command of space is highly interesting; the several drawings occupy a presence that pushes out, away from the actual imagery into the general space of the gallery. This happens generally in Goh’s work, which takes up a spatial position that envelops quite a bit more room than the actual dimensions of the drawings or sculptures. (Jonathan Goodman, "Tai Hwa Goh: Bits and Pieces").