Friday, November 8, 2013
Open Studio Week
A couple weeks ago I converted my studio into an open gallery space for my thesis work. This provided an opportunity for viewers to see my work in a more professional setting and prompted me to think about how I would want my pieces displayed. I had the wonderful opportunity to have a studio visit with the well known New York based photographer Suzanne Opton who received the 2009 Guggenheim Fellowship. Her soldier series is currently showing at the Linfield College gallery... It was refreshing to get a critique from another photographer and she seemed genuinely intrigued and interested in my thesis work. Opton is an experienced portrait photographer so our common interest in photographing people gave us common ground on which to discuss our inspirations. She enjoyed my purely photographic pieces and pointed out something significant that had not occurred to me. My pictures are abstract portraits of the human body and she pointed out that most of the time when people look at such things, the art becomes a guessing game in which they try to figure out what part of the body is photographed. Opton said that is all very boring for her and my pieces that are most successful are the ones that allow the viewer to go past that guessing game and thus enables the pictures to just be seen as artworks in themselves, in their line, shadow, color and form. As the photographer, I know what parts of the body are being photographed and thus I am not concerned with the fact of what I am photographing, but instead, am simply entranced by the form, line and color that is created. To me, they are not simply photographs of the human body, but become something entirely of its own. I'm grateful to Opton for making this comment that reminded me of the difference between how I see my work and how my work is perceived by others.
In respect to my instillation piece, she commended me in broadening my horizons and branching out into mixed media as another way for my photography to manifest itself; however, she gently cautioned not to get too caught up in making it complicated. She enjoyed the simplicity of my concept of floating skin and said that the concept itself was enough for her.
This week I photographed my studio with the lighting system in an attempt to document my work more professionally. I'm discovering that instillation pieces are much more difficult to document well. With photographs, they are already documented in their original medium ha-ha, so I guess even expanding into different media is helping me to become a better photographer!
In respect to my instillation piece, she commended me in broadening my horizons and branching out into mixed media as another way for my photography to manifest itself; however, she gently cautioned not to get too caught up in making it complicated. She enjoyed the simplicity of my concept of floating skin and said that the concept itself was enough for her.
This week I photographed my studio with the lighting system in an attempt to document my work more professionally. I'm discovering that instillation pieces are much more difficult to document well. With photographs, they are already documented in their original medium ha-ha, so I guess even expanding into different media is helping me to become a better photographer!
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Updated Artist Statement
November 3, 2013
My abstract portraits of the human body become a process of healing, through which I am entranced by the distinct lines and shadows and creases and folds and the sensuality and life that they evoke. The emotional substance of the portraits become the heart of the work itself, expressed though its blend of colors and shadows, blurring the lines between what is known and what is not. My design process is an exploration of the ephemeral effects stitching has on my compositions, portraying the complex, delicate and sometimes invisible connections that hold our personal relationships together. Conveying a celebration of life and combining the papery thin fragility of its stature, my pieces mediate between concepts of life and death, the beautiful and grotesque and the mystery that lies behind the relationship between my pain at the loss of people I love and my celebration of living and those who have lived.
My abstract portraits of the human body become a process of healing, through which I am entranced by the distinct lines and shadows and creases and folds and the sensuality and life that they evoke. The emotional substance of the portraits become the heart of the work itself, expressed though its blend of colors and shadows, blurring the lines between what is known and what is not. My design process is an exploration of the ephemeral effects stitching has on my compositions, portraying the complex, delicate and sometimes invisible connections that hold our personal relationships together. Conveying a celebration of life and combining the papery thin fragility of its stature, my pieces mediate between concepts of life and death, the beautiful and grotesque and the mystery that lies behind the relationship between my pain at the loss of people I love and my celebration of living and those who have lived.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Edited Artist Statement
October 9, 2013
Death is nothing new to me. After I lost my uncle last year to cancer, I was plunged back into the dark abyss of what it meant to lose someone you love, something so essential and vital in your life that you're lost and have got to find a new way of living. Memories of losing my father to cancer as a child flew back and opened up old woulds and new questions about my humanity and the connection that I had with my loved ones who were gone. I have found myself time and again in an emotional fragile state in a cruel game of "believe it or not," pulled back and forth between being told my loved ones are dying and that they are not.
My abstract portraits of the human body became a process of healing, through which I became entranced by the distinct lines and shadows and creases and folds and the sensuality and life that they evoked. The emotional substance of the portraits become the heart of the work itself, expressed through its blend of colors and shadows, blurring the lines between what is known and what is not. My design process is an exploration of the ephemeral effects stitching has on my compositions, portraying the complex, delicate and sometimes invisible connections that hold our personal relationships together. Conveying a celebration of life and combining the papery thin fragility of its stature, my pieces transcend between concepts of life and death, the beautiful and grotesque and the mystery that lies behind the relationship between my pain at the loss of people I love and my celebration of living and those who have lived.
Death is nothing new to me. After I lost my uncle last year to cancer, I was plunged back into the dark abyss of what it meant to lose someone you love, something so essential and vital in your life that you're lost and have got to find a new way of living. Memories of losing my father to cancer as a child flew back and opened up old woulds and new questions about my humanity and the connection that I had with my loved ones who were gone. I have found myself time and again in an emotional fragile state in a cruel game of "believe it or not," pulled back and forth between being told my loved ones are dying and that they are not.
My abstract portraits of the human body became a process of healing, through which I became entranced by the distinct lines and shadows and creases and folds and the sensuality and life that they evoked. The emotional substance of the portraits become the heart of the work itself, expressed through its blend of colors and shadows, blurring the lines between what is known and what is not. My design process is an exploration of the ephemeral effects stitching has on my compositions, portraying the complex, delicate and sometimes invisible connections that hold our personal relationships together. Conveying a celebration of life and combining the papery thin fragility of its stature, my pieces transcend between concepts of life and death, the beautiful and grotesque and the mystery that lies behind the relationship between my pain at the loss of people I love and my celebration of living and those who have lived.
Over the past couple of weeks I have been working exclusively with the matte gel and I am really happy with the results. The rough texture and crinkly surface of the material provides beauty and ugliness at the same time. It provides a sense of volume that the luster gel's smooth surface lacks...Since my last posts, I have explored two different forms of presentation other than the pedestal. I created a collage of larger prints sewn together which I tacked to the wall and am in the process of creating a three-dimensional piece by using clear fishing line to hang my smaller compositions from above to create the illusion that they are floating. I have inspiration to make this into a much larger instillation but am still debating about the details...a curtain effect? something you can walk through? be surrounded by?
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