Materiality and Making

A note to students who’ve asked.

Over the years, many students have asked me about how I made my silk sculptures and installations. While it is really a very simple process, I came to it through a rather intense exploration of asking: what do I want to say with my work?

For me, this is the real question. While I can tell you how I made these sculptural installations, what is a more relevant inquiry is the why.

My hope is to convey to students that asking why will guide you more than any how. If all the students who inquired about this work actually made it, we would lose the uniqueness of the artist’s voice that is so imperative - and the reason for making art in the first place.

My inquiry into this form of working began with the body and the notion of outer layers / facades. I was interested in making work that explored how we see facades in today’s world. I started with clay, building biomorphic forms that resembled organ like shapes. But the clay did not have the ethereal quality I was looking for.

How do I make a form that works similar to skin?

I was in Washington DC to see an exhibition of Japanese Shibori. This opened a whole world for me that I had never considered before. I loved the idea that silk, a material generally associated with wedding gowns, could hold color and form yet had an ethereal quality. The symbolic nature of the material as a social construct was not lost on me!

How could I build upon an ancient technique to create an immersive experience?

So I began to experiment. I went to a fancy fabric store, bought some silk organza and started exploring. There was no agenda here except to learn how the material operated and how it would best serve as a communicator in my work.

When exploring new materials, the limits of the medium are as important as the possibilities.

After many months and multiple failures, I found a simple process of using raw pigment, water and heat (often from the sun) to make shapes I could build upon and even grow.

The intent of these sculptural works is to show the impermanence of the facade. Therefore, I didn’t need them to be archival. In fact, the installations I created were always temporary. The photographs I took became the only permanent object once the installation came down. While these works are transparent and gravity dependent, they hold form surprisingly well. They were the perfect communicator of a skin like (facade) structure.

Light and shadow became important elements of the work that I continue to explore today.

My advice to students is to relax. Ask yourself, what is it exactly that you want to convey? Why do you want to convey this? How can the materials and processes you work with further the ideas that you are interested in? Focus on process, not end result. Having an authentic engagement with your own work will result in a piece that inspires and surprises you.

Don’t be afraid to ask why? Linger on this question for awhile. It will serve you well.

I wish you the very best on your art journey. Feel free to reach out and keep me posted on your successes.