It is strange how interiors reflect their dark turbulent past, how in their stillness bygone history tries to be reenacted, how the same situations repeat themselves with infinite variations, turned upside down and inside out by fruitless dialectic of wallpapers and hangings.

-Bruno Schulz, Street of Crocodiles


In my installations and sculptures, relationships are set up between found and created objects. I work with familiar relics from everyday life, such as curtains, salt and peppershakers, newspapers, chewed gum, a chair, a dress. I create various adjustments to these objects, working with plaster and molds, cutting, sewing, dyeing. These altered forms are arranged in vignettes that explore culturally embedded views of sexuality, gender identity, and class.

Recently I’ve been making a series of works with plaster and found objects. The trappings of home décor root the pieces in ideas of the domestic and the personal, and are skewed in subtle ways that create cognitive dissonance and unease. These works reference memories of home. Not clear memories, preserved through photographs, family lore, or journals, but the types of memories that are buried in the subconscious, that come up for air through scrambled dream imagery and fragments of long-forgotten events. Objects are embedded in plaster, frozen, as though the house is encroaching on the furnishings, trapping the memory-filled objects in its walls and floors. Flowing gauze curtains pool on the floor or crawl out from it, like seductive negligee, partly obscuring and partly frame the view. The “view” through these curtains is not clear, as through a glass window. The view, framed by and incorporating curtain rods and fabric, functions the way a painting would: as an opaque and solidly constructed thing, which still serves as a portal into another world. A picture frame is flipped around; a teapot and a tiny figurine are buried in plaster. Beauty and discomfort merge and exist in the same place.

My work operates in a space of disorientation, prolonging the moment before the eye and the mind can adjust to alterations of ordinary objects: forms that have cast off their function, so that new possibilities of meaning occur.