Index (Here, Now), 2020
Abaca paper, rust, cast iron, porcelain, studio till, alfred shale, cement, graphite, South Pole Core from a depth of 25' (approx. 30 years frozen), Nunda sandstone core from 150' below the surface (Devonian age, deposited +/- 400 million years ago), fired Nunda sandstone, crystalized borax, copper, wood, glass, meltwater.
In Our Image, 2019 -
Using photos sourced from the 9 "Top Posts" of certain location tags on Instagram, I create 3D objects through photogrammetry to create user-defined portraits of each location.
Tangents, 2018 -
Cast iron trapezoids marked while molten. This growing collection of castings recalls the community needed to successfully conduct an iron pour. As I continue to cast Tangents into the future, they join an ever-widening circle, the repetitive marks within scoring a rough, continuous line. Each marked trapezoid lengthens and turns the trajectory, all while joining an ever-widening circle.
Each material that makes up this work is presented in various states of synthesis: they have been extracted, cleaned, reduced, colored, or treated. Smelting and then re-melting the metal; creating the plastics and then receiving the bags from a retailer; cutting, milling, and buying the wood — all represent periods of human time. Geologic crystallization follows similar pathways to the methods I used to grow the Crystal Age, but the time-frames are drastically dissimilar. The two concave forms of Artifice create an aural experience; a partial enclosure defining an intimate space. The bench between the two castings facilitates communing with deep time. By entering the language of furniture, this work invites conversation: both human-to-human, and human-to-artwork. This piece assists in the physical translation of deep-time action to a rate perceivable to the human body.
Time Becomes Us: Theses on Material, People, Place (...)
Sherman Clarke and I conceived this participatory artwork for a group show at the Cohen Gallery at Alfred University, titled Won't You Be My Neighbor. We provided a 1' x 1' x 6' empty form, and invited participants to add materials from either provided buckets or their own pockets. The audience built five feet into the six-foot void, creating a stratascape of the community. The work began as a riot of color and textures: saturated plastic-blues, emerald greens, hot pinks, and tangerine-oranges, covered with fingerprints, describing acute angles, stippled with sgraffito, and sedimentary in nature. After firing, all colors muted and browned, edges softened, and lines curved. The extreme temperatures the entire piece was subjected to homogenized tone and form, creating what now resembles a geologic fragment, metamorphosed. The piece aged.
Canacadea Creek Rundown (Cairn I), 2020
This is part of an ongoing project using this language of human-stacked stones to mark space. To create this work, I collected buckets of rocks from the Canacadea Creek near Alfred University's dumping grounds. Using these stones, I built dozens of cairns in ceramic kilns, and thermally fused each pile together. I then returned the cairn to the site, and photographed the marker atop human-induced geologic-esque features.
Imagined Stratum (Growth/Slough), 2020
This work projects the possibility of plastic-heavy sedimentary deposits of the future. Consisting of a 12” x 24” textured cast iron plane intersected by a 3” x 18" iron cylinder, the casting rebuilds a stratum, as if extending outward radially from a fabricated core-sample.
This body of work captures timeframes, occupying a thermal and temporal metallic space between molten and solidified. I have worked with iron and aluminum in this way, and have explored a number of methods and textures unique to this process.
Since before we wrote down our histories, humans have stacked stones to mark paths, dangers, burials, food caches, territories, or otherwise communicate common presence and location. While geological forces may leave rocks piled atop one another, they are never as intentionally arranged as the structures built by communities of humans. Cairns broadcast a message: “We are here!” Such temporal marks form this most basic human instinct of leaving records of presence, and allow both individuals and communities to outlast their biological timeframes. This is part of an ongoing project using this language of human-stacked stones to mark space.
Fusing Experiments, 2019-
Metamorphosis of various mineral and material bands within the earth is the result of extreme temperatures and pressures. Heat is one of the most important tools of humankind - with careful application of this force, we cook our food, keep our bodies comfortable in inhospitable climates, and create all glass, ceramic, metallic, and plastic materials with which we build our world. Heat is sometimes used as a source of electric power conversion, pumping current into our devices. Applying heat to various materials is a simple 1:1 procedure that calls to mind the plethora of possibilities within the materials surrounding us.
Studio Fossils, 2018-
Fossils are rarely created within the strata of the earth - and they are just as rarely found. In order for these records of past life to be preserved, a number of factors must be present from the moment of death/entrapment of the subject, and these factors must remain in place for hundreds, thousands, or millions of years, undisturbed from critical thresholds. However, we can replicate a number of these factors using materials from the art studio: extreme heat, malleable clays, and wet saws. By creating my own fossils, I contract time, and present objects from yesterday, a million years ago.
Clean Break, 2015
This was my installation for the 02015 Governors Island Art Fair. The event, run by the art organization 4Heads, invites artists to display work within and about the vacant residential spaces of Colonel's Row on an island just south of the financial sector of Downtown Manhattan.
For this installation, I created a number of wooden sculptures ranging in size from 1/2" cubes to an 18" block of flame elder. Into each of these blocks I interred personal documents, ranging from love poems to school rejection letters, bank notices to parking tickets. I encased these papers within shells of tinted epoxy, pushed into voids and cavities within the natural wood. Cutting, sanding, and working the faces back to smooth facets revealed whorls and edges of the papers, bringing the materials back into the vocabulary of vegetal growth and decay.