07.31.07
How do you begin? Drawings, materials, ideas, images?
Often the ideas come about as I work on Styrofoam mock-ups for my sculptures. As I carve the Styrofoam parts and glue them together, I'm drawing three dimensionally. Ideas/associations reveal themselves to me that will give me a direction for the piece, and then I choose the color, pattern or surface treatment. Chameleon, Blushing Juncture, and Member's Sampler all evolved in this way. At other times, I will make a "paintin" or surface with my airbrush or paintbrush on foam board or paper and search it for an image, pattern or texture. I used this method in works such as Bedtime Story. Still another way of starting a piece is to recycle studio detritus—foam board scraps, paint-mixing palettes, and other by-products of my working process—as I did in Champion's Belt, Winking Frame, Noisy Neighbor, or Don't Play Piano.
Do you work reductively?
I tear down some, but mostly I build up. I see myself as someone who constructs rather than sculpts or paints. When I was a kid, I felt comfortable sawing scraps of wood and putting them together in different ways. I made elaborate collages. I loved taping and gluing things together. Being the daughter and granddaughter of engineers, this affinity for construction seemed natural. No one knew I was making art because I wasn't drawing or painting. In seventh grade, my guidance counselor called me in to tell me that I had scored above average on a mechanical aptitude test. She failed, however, to tell me how that might translate to job opportunities. I assumed the only career options available would be in auto mechanics, which I found unappealing, so I decided to keep my talent a secret. I came back to constructing again when I started using foam board and paper.
It is rare to see so much painterly color in sculpture, especially non-installation sculpture.
How did you come to this?
For many years, I've been freelancing as a CAD designer for apparel companies. My job involves working with seasonal palettes to create soothing color combinations. In the studio, I use this familiarity with color, choosing to work with it in ways more challenging to the eye. Much of the painterly quality of the color comes into the work when I recycle the scraps of foam board lying around my studio. I often mix paint for airbrushing directly on these foam board scraps, which then become the starting point for new pieces. Through my freelance work in textiles, I've also become comfortable working with pattern. Painterly color was the first step. I then gave myself permission to create patterns or "prints" in works such as Chameleon and Member's Sampler.
Which living artists inspire you? Is there any pre-1900 artist of particular interest to you?
I'm a big fan of Jim Lambie and Thomas Scheibitz. I wish that I had made some that work. I also love Ken Price's sculpture. Looking at Price's work has really caused me to examine my studio practice, and helped me to make the transition from putting a higher value on such elements as concept and wit to realizing that all parts, including process, are equal and essential. Pre-1900 artists of particular interest would include the artisans who built the pueblos of the southwestern United States. My parents spent several years in New Mexico before I was born and had a huge stock of photos from their travels in that area. These images, which I revisited over and over again, have no doubt had a profound influence on me.
Are you a fan of cubism?
Three years ago, I made a sculpture that struck me as looking cubist. I called it Cousin Once Removed, allowing it to be an homage to cubism. I think fractured surfaces and compression are what my work shares with Cubism. I'm grateful for the period, but generally I think the work is too ugly. It doesn't ride that line of beautiful/ugly, which I'm very interested in.
Why small-scale? Do you feel that you have to resist working large?
I don't resist working large. When I was first making sculptures with foam board, many people assumed that my pieces were maquettes for larger sculptures or buildings. I felt pressure to work larger, but kept coming back around to making modestly sized work. When my work is small, all the parts, the textures and patterns, activate the space around the work. With a single vantage point, you can take all of that in at once.