Artist Statement
For "Signs of the Times" series:
I am captivated by old signs (particularly neon road signs from the 40s and 50s), objects now largely ignored as decaying eye-sores from another age.
In their original context, these analog advertisements were meant to be looked at from cars, "in toto" and head-on, for the pedestrian purpose of promotion ("sleep here," "eat here"). But by forcing viewers to literally look at the signs from new perspectives, my work transforms these giant 3D sculptures from mundane relics of consumerism into intimate, two-dimensional artistic homages.
To accomplish this, I truncate the images with close-ups and stark angles, highlighting vibrant colors and fragments of text against patches of blue sky -- hinting at the natural landscape obscured by these mechanical billboards. I particularly focus on examples of dilapidation (e.g., rust, pealing paint, broken pieces) to highlight the savagery of time passing and to undermine any impulse toward nostalgia.
I present these vernacular artifacts as visual time capsules: suspended in space, leftovers in typography and iconography, important reminders of a post-war society whose mobility was made possible by electricity and oil.
My goal: to unveil the beauty of these signs and highlight them as rich repositories of cultural, historic, and artistic meaning.
I am captivated by old signs (particularly neon road signs from the 40s and 50s), objects now largely ignored as decaying eye-sores from another age.
In their original context, these analog advertisements were meant to be looked at from cars, "in toto" and head-on, for the pedestrian purpose of promotion ("sleep here," "eat here"). But by forcing viewers to literally look at the signs from new perspectives, my work transforms these giant 3D sculptures from mundane relics of consumerism into intimate, two-dimensional artistic homages.
To accomplish this, I truncate the images with close-ups and stark angles, highlighting vibrant colors and fragments of text against patches of blue sky -- hinting at the natural landscape obscured by these mechanical billboards. I particularly focus on examples of dilapidation (e.g., rust, pealing paint, broken pieces) to highlight the savagery of time passing and to undermine any impulse toward nostalgia.
I present these vernacular artifacts as visual time capsules: suspended in space, leftovers in typography and iconography, important reminders of a post-war society whose mobility was made possible by electricity and oil.
My goal: to unveil the beauty of these signs and highlight them as rich repositories of cultural, historic, and artistic meaning.
Artist Statement
For "The American Dream" and Infrastructure series:
Video
Territoriality: Protecting the American Dream [01:04]
Dogs claim their territories with their bodily fluids. We humans claim our territories by walls and security gates and locks and guard dogs and “keep out” signs, and all other measures of saying "stay ye away from my materials and goods." At the same time, our culture bombards us with messages to fill our homes to the brim with sacrosanct material items. This creates a vicious circle of consumption and protectionism. If we didn't have so many "things" to protect from confiscation and loss, would we be so paranoid about guarding our private property and maintaining our territories?
Photos
The American Dream -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness -- and its banal contemporary incarnations (e.g., lines, loans, and the pursuit of Happy Meals), cannot function without the infrastructure (often invisible or ignored) that supports it.
Streets, signs, electricity, water, sewage, roads, grass, telephone poles, etc. These are the things that allow our geographically dispersed and increasingly complex culture to endure, survive and thrive. My primary subject in all my work is the eroding nature of this infrastructure: the failing, falling, crumbling, antiquated, rustic and rusting infrastructure that is the literal foundation of America.....and also an apt metaphor for a once-powerful civilization now in the waning afterglow of decline.
In short, I’m captivated by the crumbling infrastructure of America as a metaphor for the decline and fall of an empire.
Video
Territoriality: Protecting the American Dream [01:04]
Dogs claim their territories with their bodily fluids. We humans claim our territories by walls and security gates and locks and guard dogs and “keep out” signs, and all other measures of saying "stay ye away from my materials and goods." At the same time, our culture bombards us with messages to fill our homes to the brim with sacrosanct material items. This creates a vicious circle of consumption and protectionism. If we didn't have so many "things" to protect from confiscation and loss, would we be so paranoid about guarding our private property and maintaining our territories?
Photos
The American Dream -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness -- and its banal contemporary incarnations (e.g., lines, loans, and the pursuit of Happy Meals), cannot function without the infrastructure (often invisible or ignored) that supports it.
Streets, signs, electricity, water, sewage, roads, grass, telephone poles, etc. These are the things that allow our geographically dispersed and increasingly complex culture to endure, survive and thrive. My primary subject in all my work is the eroding nature of this infrastructure: the failing, falling, crumbling, antiquated, rustic and rusting infrastructure that is the literal foundation of America.....and also an apt metaphor for a once-powerful civilization now in the waning afterglow of decline.
In short, I’m captivated by the crumbling infrastructure of America as a metaphor for the decline and fall of an empire.