Initially, there was, and still is, a fascination with line - as both container and content, as a rhythmic weaving of space, trailing a history of impulses and observations and, in the beginning, as a vehicle for storytelling.
Three-dimensional configurations, on canvas and paper, led more frequently to actual three-dimensional structures.
Eventually, I made 'chains' or 'pathways' from corrugated paper. Sometimes painted, and sometimes in dialogue with paintings on canvas, these 'chains' created short fragmented rhythms or episodes, or, conversely, longer trails, ranging through several passages, movements or chapters - often encompassing entire rooms. At other times they filled a dense vibrating patch, like an arena of swarming insects.
For a while they were primarily floor-based structures, some which flooded across space like water or sprang like a coil. In other pieces the components were bulkier - pitched into a pile like discarded notepaper or boulders tumbling onto a shore or liberated from a quarry. Sometimes they were strewn amongst fragments, which appeared to have been shaped by machines or weather. Hopefully, they had a bulk and weight, which contrasted with what we assume to be the qualities of paper. Their surfaces mapped with seams, some peeling away like petals from a bud: incubating pods hinting at their core.
Three-dimensional configurations, on canvas and paper, led more frequently to actual three-dimensional structures.
Eventually, I made 'chains' or 'pathways' from corrugated paper. Sometimes painted, and sometimes in dialogue with paintings on canvas, these 'chains' created short fragmented rhythms or episodes, or, conversely, longer trails, ranging through several passages, movements or chapters - often encompassing entire rooms. At other times they filled a dense vibrating patch, like an arena of swarming insects.
For a while they were primarily floor-based structures, some which flooded across space like water or sprang like a coil. In other pieces the components were bulkier - pitched into a pile like discarded notepaper or boulders tumbling onto a shore or liberated from a quarry. Sometimes they were strewn amongst fragments, which appeared to have been shaped by machines or weather. Hopefully, they had a bulk and weight, which contrasted with what we assume to be the qualities of paper. Their surfaces mapped with seams, some peeling away like petals from a bud: incubating pods hinting at their core.