I work with the truths of materials – usually in many repeated units – to create new surfaces and forms. Things with which I have worked to create units include, but are not limited to, orange peels, metal roofing, plaster, and paper. I love to work in a two-step process, the first step being the creation of many units. The repetitiveness of this part of the creation process makes it meditative and all-consuming. It is obsessive in a way that requires physical and mental endurance. Just keep pouring plaster, just keep rolling paper, just keep peeling oranges, just keep bending wire… It is also obsessive in that I must have a continued desire to strive for improvement each time. It becomes an intense study of the material, how I can shape and alter it, and how it can change on its own.
These individual units are little pieces of art on their own. I have touched each one, carved it, built it up, torn it down. But what I love most is the improvisation of fitting all of the units together, the second step of my process. In unison, the units can say something more. I approach a space with all of the individual components and fit them into that space. They acquire a wholeness in relation to each other and in association with the new space they are given. The coalition of units forms a new surface and a new truth for that space.
In my most recent project, “Epidermis”, I explore these themes of repetition and distortion. The repetitive and obsessive act of peeling many oranges creates units with which I can work to create something bigger. Sewing them onto articles of clothing – in this case a pair of jeans – requires relating one peel with the next. The act of sewing is repetitive, and the experience of pushing and pulling the threaded needle through the peels is an ambiguous one that blurs the boundaries between skin and peel, construction and destruction. Time reveals the truth of the material, causing the peels to dry, shrink, and pull closer together. The changes that take place in the peels cause the fabric to which they are sewn to pull in different directions, sending ripples through the jeans. There is something ironic about a skin, torn from what it was originally protecting, being coaxed together as a new skin to cover a piece of cloth that normally covers human skin. With the manipulated surface, however, the jeans can no longer fit on the same way. Despite their brittleness, en masse, the orange peels have a crippling effect; once again, there exists a tension between construction and destruction and a reclamation and repurposing of surface.