My work considers the human experience as a big picture, and one that can be sketched out. How to draw the trajectory of your life as a single line, plotting highs and lows and years and years of plateaus. A velvet display case of pinned desires, now cold, intact, unfluttering. I use my work as a tool for poetic investigation, for mapping, measuring, and tracking the unknown and the unreal. Contained areas, negative space, and fixed perspectives are formal as well as conceptual aspects of my work, and a wide range of materials and time-based media are integrated into tableaus, frames, and dioramas that stand outside of time- static, but not still.
The work in my thesis exhibition draws a picture of a psychological space that is built by, and illustrates, acts of propriate striving: desires founded on promises of progress, improvement, results, gains, ascension. These are depicted as simple shapes that represent binaries, paradoxical forms, angles that cancel each other out, and structures that disrupt or maintain balance. It is, essentially, a large sketch or proof, and intended to be read as such based on the line quality of both the small sculptures, the written text and animations, and the shadows incorporated into the installation. It is at once pictorial and conceptual. By using structures that reference playgrounds and amusement parks, I am drawing a parallel between short-lived thrills, managed ‘play’, manufactured physical sensations, and the ways in which we seek out new and constant levels of stimulation.
The installation is comprised of a series of small sculptural islands that form a unified horizon in the air. A projector located at the far corner of the room casts the shadows of the islands and their inhabiting structures onto a screen that is suspended from the ceiling, dividing the installation space in half. The viewer enters the space and is first confronted with the screen from the opposite side. The scene depicted is in clean, sharp silhouette, and appears to be a still landscape.
Gradually, the viewer becomes aware of subtle motion: a swaying generated by wind, a dim spotlight growing brighter, an arrow forming in mid-air. It becomes difficult to distinguish between the real, cast shadows of the objects on the opposite side of the screen, and the incorporated projections of light, text, color regions, and illustrations. The "clean" side of the screen is therefore flattened into a storybook, a picture that changes in time. Crossing into the space and behind the screen, the viewer is then surrounded by a bright, evocative miniature playground of wood, wire, thread, and paper that is at once playful and oblique.