September 2020
Notes about three of my pieces in the show re:assembly at Nationale, Portland.


The paper tapestry, paper dishcloth, and sketchbook are works exploring my current interest in textile objects and techniques. 
All these pieces use paper as the main material, and parallel lines as a constant gesture. These lines are developed from marks generated by custom-made tools, and as a result of my background and research on letterforms in typography.

Paper Tapestry #2 explores different possibilities of what lines can be and can do; the black lines are like images of threads in woven materials, which combine to create a surface, which when cut becomes dimensional. The tassels are made from leftover scraps of paper used when making the piece.






In the book Lines by Tim Ingold, he explains the relation between lines and the surfaces on which they are drawn. Threads can turn into traces and vice versa, and  through the accumulation of transverse lines, surfaces are formed. 






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There's a conscious economy of material in this piece, by using thin newsprint paper that is cheap to produce and easily recyclable. I'm interested in reversing an established hierarchy of values, whether it is in the material, in the color, or in the technique. I also want to create from limited means and this being enough, a similar economy of material which is also seen in quilting.

The thin horizontal and vertical strips that join the four pieces together in Paper Tapestry #2 are a nod to back-strap weaving. When weaving with a back-strap loom, the weaver's body determines the size of the loom, which then determines the size of the textile. This play between body-loom-textile is similar to that between gesture-tool-form which I am interested in with typography. I have some Guatemalan textiles that have a very colorful and elaborate joint sewn between pieces, which show off rather than hide what could be a size limitation.




Chichicastenango tzute

Chichicastenango tzute



This conscious use and economy of material is also present in Paper Dishcloth, which was made during quarantine using newsprint as it was an easily available material. By recreating universal, everyday products like these cleaning rags, I'm reconsidering attention to humble textile objects. They hold a connection to home, yet are so universal in their design, pattern, and form, that they belong everywhere and nowhere. 






I like to browse through the dish towels and cleaning rags in my local corner store. As their stock ends and new stock comes in, they change brands and patterns, yet they're all similar in the way that they're so universal that they become invisible because of how ordinary and similar they are. Still, they have certain beauty in them, in their open weave, in their strength, and in their connection to home.






In the sketchbook, I begin with a simple paper weave in black and white, which then goes through experimentations with color, pattern, and collage, interweaving ideas and testing possibilities for what paper and line could be.











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August 2020
Sun and time as mark-making tools.

There are two artworks that striked me the most recently, in their simplicity and sensibility, and have remained with me since. One of these were Marie Lund's Stills, which I saw at the Weserburg Museum für moderne Kunst in Bremen. She took curtains from a house in Arizona which had been tinted by their exposure to the sun, and stretched them onto frames, showing the stains and bleaching left on the fabric. These highlights and shadows are marks made by sun and time, undisturbed by anything else. With these pieces she holds onto a moment in life and in a specific location, using materials that have been made with a gesture of their own.







The other artwork was Charbel-joseph Boutro's Sun Works, which I saw at Punta della Dogana in Venice. He shows a piece of newsprint with three rectangles inside one another in different tones of yellow. The paper had been exposed to the light in Beirut, where he's from, over one, two, and three consecutive days.






Both of these artworks attracted me in their simplicity and poetry. They're made with humble materials – curtains and newsprint – and have no other marks on them but the ones made from light and days. Sun and time are used as a mark-making tool, annotating the pieces with something ungraspable, which is a specific location and duration of a moment. The works are intimate, poetic, and enough.