“The
highest art will be that which in its conscious content presents
the thousandfold problems of the day, an art which one can
see has let itself be thrown by the explosions of the last
week, which is forever gathering up its limbs after yesterday's
crash. The best and most extraordinary artists will be those
who every hour snatch the tatters of their bodies out of the
frenzied cataract of life, holding fast to the intellect of
their time, bleeding from hands and hearts.”
–Dada
Manifesto, 1918
Nearly a century after Tristan Tzara penned these polemical
words, arguing for an art that bleeds along with society,
we continue to live in a blatantly violent age in which the
duality of politics – veering between reason and irrationality,
prudence and excess, action and impotence – plays out
in our seemingly mundane lives. In my work, a cartoon character,
the Blob, is quietly blown up, hung, slashed and bruised.
She hovers in a state of tension between naïve play and
nameless cruelty. As the initiator of these conditions, the
character functions for me as agar in a Petri dish, a seemingly
neutral vehicle for the mingling and festering of my own fears
and anxieties. My work is driven by an impulse towards the
political, the personal, and the absurd. Living in a cultural
moment that readily renders trauma monumental and in the collective,
I am loath to create works that are didactic and point to
ready ideologies. Rather, I am more likely to harness the
tools of satire to subvert traditional political and cultural
commentary and representations of violence.
I am interested in an object’s capacity for material
dialogue. Compare, for example, the narrative quality of a
line embroidered in thread on raw textile with an etched line
drawn (also with a needle) into wet clay with the efficient
line of the cartoon panel. This translation and retranslation
of drawing across materials forms the basis of my studio practice.
My choice to work in textiles was influenced by my professional
experience as a theatrical costume stitcher. The construction
of period costumes required a minute attention to detail and
a deft manipulation of textiles. When translated into sculpture
and image making, it is an approach defined by laborious and
intentional construction and execution. For me, this highly
aesthetic approach is an uncanny vehicle for wit, play, and
black humor. I am equally influenced by satire and tragicomedy,
drawing upon my work as a political cartoonist during my undergraduate
studies, an activity that deepened my fascination with the
relationship between art and politics and also the rhetorical
and narrative functions of image and iconography. What is
consistent in my mixed-media work is the primacy of drawing
and iconographic subtext.
My primary influences are Saul Steinberg, William Kentridge,
Kara Walker, Grayson Perry, Martha Rosler, and Hieronymous
Bosch. A varied grouping to be sure, but what attracts me
to these artists is a thread running between their works that
situates the viewer as witness to personal and allegorical
narrative cycles that simultaneously engage history and lunacy.
Theirs is work that spans drawing, animation, installation,
ceramics, photomontage, and religious painting. I adhere to
a cross-disciplinary mode of art making that negotiates and
draws relationships between sources as disparate as the symbolic
and ornamental rendering of torture and violence in medieval
Christian art and the slapstick comedy of popular cartoons.