artist statement

Safe/Not Safe

My witness has two main jobs–she teaches sexual health to K-12 and to adults with cognitive issues, and she works at an abortion clinic. Neither of these are “traumatic” in the strong sense (i.e. sexual assault, although that could be part of it), but they involve a more subtle and “global” sense of trauma, particularly with young or vulnerable people. One of the things that stuck with me from what my witness talked about was that at the abortion clinic, she could see people arrive. Patients were not able to bring anyone in with them, but she could see who came along through a video monitor. She would try to get a sense of whether or not they had a “safe” environment/support system for what they were going through. She also mentioned that sometimes kids would approach her after her lesson about age-appropriate sexual education and mention that maybe they didn’t feel all that safe. I ended up focusing on the binary of “Safe/Not Safe“

Safe/Not Safe consists of a head of a young person set on what looks like a wooden plank–an altar or a bridge. To one side of the head is a scrap of fabric, which could be a handkerchief, something to wipe away tears, or something crumpled and discarded, as the person might feel herself to be. To the other side sits a small house covered in pattern and the words “safe/not safe.” As the home is often the source of either danger or safety, it is an appropriate object to place with the head. I came away from my discussions with my witness with an enormous appreciation of what people in positions such as hers do– the compassion, empathy, care, and love they bring to people who are, for the most part, strangers. I was also thinking about the toll these jobs take on those who do them, and yet how important they are. My piece is basically a tribute to them.

Monument

Monument carries on from a series of pieces I have been making using classical columns. This is essentially just the capital to a column, based (loosely) on a Corinthian capital. The myth behind this form is that a Greek sculptor saw the grave of a young woman who had recently died. Her grave was topped with a basket full of her favorite things. In the interim since her death, acanthus leaves had grown up through the basket. This myth associates the Corinthian order with the feminine, death, and rebirth. Trauma involves a sort of death—of innocence, confidence, and equanimity. It can only be overcome through healing, which is itself a sort of re-birth. My work consists of a square base, on the sides of which are images of curling vines and the words “Compassion,” “Care,” “Empathy,” and “Love.” The base supports a circular form, or torus, and a large bowl draped with a white cloth. The bowl shelters the head of a matronly woman, a compassionate expression on her face. The piece recalls monuments one sees in civic parks honoring the war dead. I pulled together references to death, rebirth, memory, compassion, and care to make a quiet, reflective piece.