(Left to right)
Limp Form IV, 2019, canvas, ink, acrylic, gesso, shredded documents, grommets, 11 x 9 x 3 inches
Little Soft Shelf, 2019, linen, thread, ink, paper clay, 24k gold, shredded documents, 6.5 x 10 x 3 inches
Hole (Reach Inside), 2019, linen, rubber, velvet, shredded documents, grommets thread, 5 x 5 x 8 inches
GREETINGS FROM MY STUDIO ~
Welcome! I have a few new smaller pieces finished earlier this year that I thought I would share. These three pieces show my love for materials, form and edge. I describe my work as painting and sculpture hybrids, soft sculpture/painting or painted constructions depending on the materials. My current statement is below and I think frames the work beautifully (written by Rose Lambert-Sluder).
We trust shelves and boxes. We trust, or want to trust, our bodies and organs. We want to trust the constructed systems we inhabit. These things fail us over time, but we have to depend on them well into their failure.
My work deals with this failure. The soft sculptures recall solid objects (shelves, boxes), but seem like they might fall apart at any minute. Stitched from coarse fabrics and stuffed with shredded documents, they bloat and pudge. Dye and ink splotch their surfaces, making them look raw in places and managed in others. Both glitzy and drab. Polished and dull. In this way, the constructions at once repel us and draw us in: a black box is both sinister and seductive, inviting the viewer to reach into the glossy interior without knowing what lies inside. Paper clay—looking just like chewed gum found stuck to school desks—holds together the seams of one sculpture, while the gold hoops dangling from it flaunt their sex appeal. Meanwhile, one form comes undone at the edges, its color faded like whitewashed graffiti. These pieces ask, what is our relationship to instability? How do our desires—for cohesion, for met expectation—implicate us? Over time, the sculptures sag. They slouch. They turn impotent, challenging our trust in systems and our reactions when they fail.
