Artist’s Statement
Life on earth is a head-scratcher for anyone who’s paying attention.1
-Anne Lamott
Altogether, there is good, and there is pain. There are bits of hope floating around, but it seems that the bad often outweighs them. My work explores this conflict. “The Greeks thought music healed the soul the way medicine healed the body. The same might be said about visual art.”2
When Picasso encountered African masks, he resisted the impulse to reject something so unfamiliar, and often grotesque.
“I forced myself to stay, to examine these masks, all these objects that people had created with a sacred, magical purpose, to serve as intermediaries between them and the unknown, hostile forces surrounding them, attempting in that way to overcome their fears by giving them colour and form.”3
I make my work with the same drive to process the world I’m in. It may be difficult to face the embodiment of these griefs and terrors, but I hope that people can force themselves to stay and find a piece of truth in my work.
My torsos are enveloped so that only their faces can be seen. Originally, I was referencing the ancient Egyptian tradition of making canopic jars as part of a lengthy preparation for the after-life. Now, these trapped figures refer to the concept of our spirits being ensnared in corrupted, physical forms. The surface treatment on the wrappings sometimes serves to reinforce the feeling of entrapment, while at other times lightens the heavy mood with bright colours .
The wall torsos continue to focus on the expressive faces and communicate a sense of confinement. There is an added component of creating identity through adornment. The bits and bobbles that seem to make a person unique are translated into nubs and patterns on the wall torsos.
Figurative sculpture has lasted throughout human history because we are drawn to the familiar. We project our own experiences onto these sculptures, interacting with them on a psychological level. Creating full figures allows me to expand on the characters’ personalities by incorporating subtle gesture. Also, I revel in the details of the hands and feet. I use childlike proportions in order to keep the attention on the faces, and I believe that the brokenness of humanity starts early. We see corruption in the smallest children.
‘So what are we supposed to do again, when we hate everything?’
‘You stop pretending life is such fun or makes sense. It’s often messy
and cruel and dull, and we do the best we can. It’s unfair, and jerks
seem to win. But you fall in love with a few people.’1
-Anne Lamott
- Lamott, Anne. Imperfect Birds. Riverhead Books: 2010. p. 10.
- Kimmelman, Michael. The Accidental Masterpiece. Penguin Books: 2005. p. 6.
- Meldrum, Andrew. “Stealing Beauty”, The Guardian. March 15, 2006. p. 22.