Pretty Things
2015
By bringing sacramental objects of the church into the gallery, remade from a craft-based materials and technique, I am presenting the religious institution for reflection and critique, while also presenting personal struggles in hopes the viewer will find parallels. Utilizing the “white gold” convention of porcelain and the industrial production technique of slip-casting to create each form speaks of the worth of the objects, and thus the sacramental tradition, but also indicates the “mass-produced” nature of present day churches. Through my process I suggest these “molds”: the mega-church mold, the traditional church mold, the southern evangelical white-wooden-chapel mold, and more. On the interior of the forms, I erode the surface of the materials through a process called “water carving”, to reveal symbols of worldly materialism, and bring up more questions about the church de facto. The nature of the water-carving process is also critical to my context; each form shows the touch of the hand as if it has passed over a pew many times, or the water of baptism has worn away the surface, uncovering the realities and contradictions of the Church.
I am influenced by artists who analyze their personal struggles through a traditional ceramic format, such as Neil Bronswood (the vessel) and Barnaby Barford (the figurine), who create work criticizing the middle class through blue-and white porcelain, and materialism through the ready-made, respectively. I am also repurposing brand symbols to generate social critique, similar to the sculptor Tom Sachs. Artists use the white-walled gallery to confront the viewer with their personal experiences, preconceptions, and perhaps misconceptions, in relation to the world around them. Through my functional ceramics, I visually present difficult concepts that may otherwise be forgotten or ignored by utilizing recognizable, familiar forms to draws in my viewer.
In my arrangement of sacramental forms in an intimate, spiritual alcove, I take cues from Rothko and Rothko’s Chapel, but seek to guide the viewer through my own transitions of doubt and rebuilding, in addition to reflection and introspection. This became very apparent during my time of making, as many of my early pieces failed, bent and curled. I could not fix the Church. But I could find beauty in the human destruction and failure of control, as well as humanity and vulnerability in the imperfect. As light from the stained glass comes into a church sanctuary and bounces off of surfaces, illuminating in a colorful spectrum, so do the people, entering into the space, bringing to light problems, reflecting on them and then changing. This is the ideal, at least. The final piece confronted is the communion cup, the most frequently and intimately handled object in my installation. As one takes this little vessel to their lips, they will be greeted with their own reflection, once again calling for introspection, and reinforcing consideration of the ideal versus the real.
I am influenced by artists who analyze their personal struggles through a traditional ceramic format, such as Neil Bronswood (the vessel) and Barnaby Barford (the figurine), who create work criticizing the middle class through blue-and white porcelain, and materialism through the ready-made, respectively. I am also repurposing brand symbols to generate social critique, similar to the sculptor Tom Sachs. Artists use the white-walled gallery to confront the viewer with their personal experiences, preconceptions, and perhaps misconceptions, in relation to the world around them. Through my functional ceramics, I visually present difficult concepts that may otherwise be forgotten or ignored by utilizing recognizable, familiar forms to draws in my viewer.
In my arrangement of sacramental forms in an intimate, spiritual alcove, I take cues from Rothko and Rothko’s Chapel, but seek to guide the viewer through my own transitions of doubt and rebuilding, in addition to reflection and introspection. This became very apparent during my time of making, as many of my early pieces failed, bent and curled. I could not fix the Church. But I could find beauty in the human destruction and failure of control, as well as humanity and vulnerability in the imperfect. As light from the stained glass comes into a church sanctuary and bounces off of surfaces, illuminating in a colorful spectrum, so do the people, entering into the space, bringing to light problems, reflecting on them and then changing. This is the ideal, at least. The final piece confronted is the communion cup, the most frequently and intimately handled object in my installation. As one takes this little vessel to their lips, they will be greeted with their own reflection, once again calling for introspection, and reinforcing consideration of the ideal versus the real.