Prisoner of Patterns

This is a 22 color screenprint from '06. It depicts a woman in a virtual sea of patterns flowing from her kimono. She is overcome by them. It suggests, in the context of other prints I have made during this time, an equivalency between the malaise of being smothered by tradition and its expectations, and that of submersion in modernity / technology (which is its own new form of tradition and ritual, replete with new ingrained expectations).

せっぷくおめでとう - SEPPUKU OMEDETOU: Congratulations on your suicide

Above are images of a very self-reflexive sculptural-installation. Against my usual behavior, I've decided to offer a thorough explanation of the piece, because it indeed has a specific meaning (for me that is). The title "Seppuku Omedetou" pertains to my figurative act of suicide in creating this, the final piece of my college career. I borrow the term Seppuku because it is a willing and ritualistic undertaking that combines finality and the hope for a renewed life, as is the BFA thesis exhibition for all graduating artists.

The standing screen in the rear is constructed from 4 scorched doors; forming a screen to my past, if you will. The small platform in front of them is charred as well. On it stands a birdcage, the ultimate symbol for a "closed text" (for me the "closed text" is the isolationism of school). The bars of the cage are cut at the center, as if to evoke a Seppuku wound (verticle slash across the belly). To further that image, a mass of ash is laid within and beyond the cage and the platform, taking the shape of a full seppuku wound (two perpendicular cuts). These two wound representations stand for the figurative death I incurred graduating highschool and then college. A smaller detail is the shards of a broken teacup placed on the ash pile within the cage, which carries the air of a broken tradition, personal fragility, etc. Lastly the two banners, which beautifully frame the piece frontally, create a warmth in the space as light diffuses through them. They evoke the violence or struggle in change and revolution.

A filmed performance piece accompanies this installation, utilizing it as a stage set, and filmed in long deliberately composed shots that take lessons from classical Japanese cinema. A young girl prepares and performs her Seppuku with delicacy and poise, but instead of a blade, she draws a paintbrush across her stomach (meaning that this suicide is of an artist), the stream and drips of paint represent the blood of her wound.

She awakens thereafter slowly, cleaning herself off, stretching out her tensed body. In standing up she discovers her dexterity has switched from her hands (which were the focus of the first act as she prepared tea), to her legs (the focus of the second act). This represents the changing shape of means and motives of the artist when their situation is radically altered after leaving school, and after any major move. She dresses herself in new cloths, prepared by her former self, but there are always traces of ash on her limbs. She cannot fully shake her past, not that she wants to.

Her final step is to pass through the threshold of the flame banners and drink the tea that her former self prepared before committing Seppuku. The tea is made from the ash that lines the charred suicide platform. She drinks the ash-tea and 'swallows the lessons of her past,' keeping them on them on the inside of herself, because her externalized world has now changed its form.

Temporal confusion

This is one of a small series of prints that present traditional and modern elements coexisting, but with a subtext of uneasiness. It is quiet and composed, but suggests tension. The girl thinks she hears something, divided from the implied individual in the room behind her who is using the computer. Is someone there? Or is she simply disoriented by her technological submersion?

A bit more structure

This is the original print whose layers were later mined in order to make the series of smaller one-of-a-kind prints which is posted below. The setting is a traditional japanese room seen from above, utilizing the same type of improper perspective from Ukiyo-e prints. Two girls lounge about drinking tea, and the third is divided from them by a standing screen. She is shouting, but the other girls seem to barely be able to hear her.

More from Less

This is a small selection of a series of prints that were developed almost by accident. The images within them are layers borrowed from another print. I discovered through proofing the layers that by using their silhouettes out of context they had greater potential. I used them to create small intimate narratives and moments, both sensical and not. These pieces also engage varied textures and colors. Their minimalism and size (2.5" x 5") invites a closer look.