2021 Artists
SHOW IMAGE + MAP DESIGN BY HANNAH WALSH DES COGNETS
The 2021 Terrain Biennial Newburgh exhibition theme was Keep in Touch and ran September 25–November 15, 2021 with 27 artists/groups and 28 hosts. It was made possible with funds from the Statewide Community Regrants Program, a regrant program of the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of the Governor and the New York State Legislature and administered by Arts Mid-Hudson. Funding for this project was also provided by the Awesome Newburgh Foundation and in part by the Orange County Arts Council.
Carla Aurich | 13 Park Place
Night Garden of the Cicadas, 2021. Digital print of collage.
Gardens connect us to nature and the larger collective library of information passed down between neighbors, family, community, and generations. Cicadas, pandemics, wild-fires, and other cyclical events emerge on their own clock, awakening us to the rhythms of life, death, destruction, and resurrection. The night garden is alive with sounds and the twinkling night sky, a restorative magical time where the unconscious roams freely.
Night Garden of the Cicadas is the digital print of a collage that incorporates natural dyes from my garden, rubbings from trees and gravestones on this site, along with trash collected in my neighborhood. The natural dyes are extracted from hibiscus, lavender, and marigolds, and, along with the rubbings and trash, the colors and textures are all sourced from the Newburgh terrain. The scale of the original collage was enlarged to fit the space under the window, allowing it to relate to the architecture and function as a window into another realm.
Michelle Batho | 87 Ann St
Imposter, 2020. Aluminum.
Note: installed in Liberty St window of Hendley + Co.
The initial reaction to physical and temporal confinement occurring simultaneously is often one of worry or stress. The word confinement suggests a strain, pressure, or aggressor. Similar to the constraints of an art making process, physical and temporal confinements can offer a freer mental pathway than that which occurs in an environment that is restrained by neither time nor space. Focus is not drained from the process, be it physical or mental, rather it is lifted out of auxiliary diversions into the delight of bustling productivity. From this so-called restricted place comes an immeasurable freeness and clarity, of course. Imposter is from a set of aluminum blocks machined into various patterning based on constrained and overlapping geometries. In conversation with computer-aided manufacturing software, I toy with boundaries, adjacencies, who decides, and when we are finished.
Amber Bowen | 45 Edward St
Forget Me Not, 2021. Paper, ink, and wheat paste.
Note: Installation of wheat pasted images have been affected by storms
One of my grandmother’s favorite flowers was a forget-me-not and whenever I see them I can’t help but think of her. The name of the flower alone is wondrous in the remembrance of such a beautiful soul. She was a magical woman that raised two wonderful boys but always wanted a daughter. Well, her two boys gave her five glorious grandchildren that are all girls. She loved us and showed us in every way she interacted with us. Remembering the loss of such an important person in my life gives birth to this feeling of mourning for all of those who lost a loved one to COVID-19.
This installation gives life to that grief; in remembrance of the souls taken. When I first visualized this piece, we had 723 deaths from this pandemic in Orange County, New York; as I write this, the number is at 736. Loved ones, and maybe some that weren’t so loveable, but still human beings made of the same flesh and blood that you and I are. Do we have to know someone to love someone? In this installation there are 736 coffins representing the humans that something so microscopic can take away. We care so much about comprehending another; our compassion is lost. This piece is a reminder that we all are mortal. We will meet that fatal end and hopefully that end is filled with compassion. Compassion for Mother Earth in how we return to her and compassion for each other.
Andrew Brehm | 266 Montgomery St
Irrigation Museum, 2021. Nelson Dial-A/Rain, Aqua King, Everain, Rain-Wave, generic rosette sprinklers, and lengths of hose.
Note: Installed in backyard, visible from 333 Water St, lit at night
During the summer of 2020, I broke my isolation with a spontaneous stop at a yard sale. It was the first time in months that I was doing something away from my home that wasn’t essential. I was looking at very old lawn sprinklers and wanted badly to buy one. The homeowner saw I was struggling to make a decision so he let me test each one out with his own garden hose. This promptly revealed each was broken one way or another. The prices were slashed and I walked away with four of them, two days later I returned to buy the remaining lot.
These sprinklers were once impressive water-powered oscillators. Their water displays sprayed proudly with plenty of knobs to adjust both flow and direction. They saved the midsummer lawns and neighborhood children from withering in the dry heat. These sprinklers were in bad shape, but sometimes fixing something does more for you than the broken thing. Stop by during the first 5 minutes of 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, 8pm, 10pm, daily, to see them in all their glory.
Vivien Collens | 32 Benkard Ave
Untitled for now, 2021. Aluminum.
Note: Installed in backyard, visible from S. Lander St.
My work is abstract but always has a subject.
To me it is a dialectic between the rational and the material,
between energy and stability.
Energy is a favorite subject since it can take so many forms.
My work depicts energy and growth, motion and structure.
I have always been interested in the topic of creativity.
The creative impulse manifests energy, energy which inspires growth, both mental and physical.
With geometric forms I develop structures referring to constructs of science, mathematics, geometry, and the man-made world.
With organic curved forms I refer to nature and the physical world.
The dynamic quality of this work comes from the energy which compelled its creation.
Damfino (Chris Esposito + Matt Greco | 189 Montgomery St
Signal Fire, 2021. Concrete, steel, wood, plastic, paper.
Signal Fire is a site-specific installation by Damfino (a collaboration between Chris Esposito and Matt Greco) comprised of a sculpture at The Historical Society of Newburgh Bay and the Highlands. The sculpture resembles a buoy and is lit at the top, which draws a connection to the rich maritime history of cities along the Hudson River like Newburgh. Shipping and maritime commerce move goods between different places and peoples while at the same time moving culture, science, and ideas along with it. The shared tradition of this moving and mixing is at the heart of this moment, when we are all trying to figure out how we regain the normalcy back in our lives. How we can connect to one another after this long time of separation. Our work aims to be both a symbolic and literal beacon to guide our way back.
Serena Domingues | 10 Galloway Ave
Interruption, 2021. 5" portable TV, steel, moss.
We interrupt your programming to bring you this important message:
Limiting eyes only see what they want to pay attention to. An object’s fate is held by their possessors; unnoticed when its time is obsolete. Displaced technology is homeless when nature is interrupting. Watch and listen.
Daniel Giordano| 113 First St
Family (Revisited), 2020–2021. 24 karat gold, artificial gold, ceramic, cotton upholstery cording, glass, hardware, pigment, scented oils, wax, wood.
Note: Part of installation was intentionally lit and melted on opening day
Family (Revisited) may signify that family (both those of blood relation and chosen ones) is everything. Hopefully, the powers that be melt the wax structure into the bowl, causing it to ooze over the rim of the ceramic vessel and emit unique aromas while revealing treasures hermetically sealed within. The sculpture will most likely transform over the course of the exhibition and the result will be used as a component for a future sculpture. I have assembled a situation where all are welcome to gather as a reminder to engage with your loved ones.
Keep in touch.
Tal Gluck | 10 Henry Ave
fall in the family tree, 2021.
Note: Installation is in crabapple tree on sidewalk
In her article, “There's no such thing as a tree (phylogenetically),” Georgia Ray describes the fascinating and irregularly shaped family tree of trees. She writes:
The common ancestor of a maple and a mulberry tree was not a tree.
The common ancestor of a stinging nettle and a strawberry plant was a tree.
And this is true for most trees or non-trees that you can think of.
There is something magical about the connections and disconnections between trees, and plants, and all of the ramifying purposes and objects and lives which they can live.
This installation is made out of things that used to be trees, and things that were never trees, and things that could, one day, be trees again.
Philippe Halaburda | 109 S William St
Suunrayy, Neon yellow sheer voile.
The art installation Suunrayy represents the collective energy of the building’s occupants emulate the community of Newburgh, and exploring social tensions and relationships.
The blurry boundary between perception and experience always inspired me by working with different materials, painting, tape, or fabric.
For Terrain Biennial, I decided to use yellow sheer voile to reveal all the positive interactions between persons and their environment. It has an illuminating essence that catches our attention.
I am interested in the randomness of emotion through art by imaging abstract, large-scale creations.
Erica Hauser | 201 Montgomery St
Tempered Euphoria, 2021
Wood, paint, string, mixed media
Words in my mind these past 18 months include distance, waiting, levels, up and down, forward and backward, rising and falling. In a very loose sense, I see shapes like stairs and string and chairs as ways to describe how we are weathering these highs and lows. My piece for Terrain attempts a visual ‘tempered euphoria,’ a phrase I heard on the radio early this year describing our cautious optimism as we hoped to come together again and be stronger for it. So much is still flawed or broken. We find bits of joy and color as we go, so we can hold onto them and each other when the bottom falls out, trying to maintain our physical space and our connection at the same time.
James Jackson | 75 Broadway
Gordian Beach, 2021
Mixed media
In 2006, I read Cormack McCarthy’s The Road not long after having had my first child, Junia. I had always believed in the science of climate change, but it was difficult to imagine what the world would look like if climate change came to pass. McCarthy’s dark and heroic vision stuck in my craw. I combed over details again and again. I still do. It is a work of sublime presence in my everyday life.
To be fair, I don’t actually know that McCarthy’s book was set in a post-climate collapse world, but that doesn’t matter, his vision and my viewership took me to that destination. The path from that place, that meeting, led directly to Gordian Beach.
My other influence was a simple phrase that acts for me as a reminder of how little agency we actually possess: You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you.
Gordian Beach is a simple question to the viewer, as well as my answer, to that very same question.
There is a terrible war coming and there is nothing you can do about it at this point. What will you do?
I would like to thank my parents for all they did for and to me, my daughters for all they give and take from me, and my wife and partner in all things, Lydia Chan.
kathQueen | 110 Washington St
EYE-HEART-ME, 2019
Hanging sculpture created from rePURPOSED building materials, household items, and clothing
kathQueen’s artistic practice has emerged from her desire to express her feelings and recreate ART from collections of the ordinary. kathQueen learned that if she truly felt self love, she could authentically spread love. EYE-HEART-ME was created in 2019 to be shared at a personal development event she was co-hosting in the Hudson Valley. kathQueen was inspired to create something big and meaningful. All of the materials used except glue and fasteners were scavenged or collected. The EYE is outlined in garden hoses and accented with brass pipe connections. The lashes are patinated copper roof flashing kathQueen’s brother salvaged from a roof repair. The pupil is created with a hubcap center surrounded by leftover glass baubles from a mosaic project kathQueen’s sisters had done. A salvaged mirror, copper tubing, and wire mesh were also incorporated into the EYE. The HEART is broken and reconnected with chains and locks salvaged from a lost and found from the middle school in Beacon. It is edged in bug screen and filled with T-shirt remnants dipped in glue and paint. The HEART is hinged, which allows it to lay flat, accordion, or bend in a corner. The ME is edged with copper flashing and faced with mirrors and aluminum flashing. kathQueen used reflective elements to emphasize the love of self and the importance of ME.
Rita Leduc | 6 Grand St
Field Marks, 2021
Mixed media
Note: 1 installed work is in front yard, 4 are in back yard
I refer to the forging and deepening of connections as a “process of acquaintance.” This process requires deep listening and communicating, and is arguably the most important investment for a successful relationship. Further, should this process ever end, the relationship’s growth will be stunted and its viability at stake. Accordingly, my public works for Terrain invite visitors to participate in the kind of active listening dialogue that encourages relationships, inter- and intra-species alike, to thrive.
The work is located at five chosen sites at 6 Grand Street and consists of five, 5”x6” visual notes sandwiched between 14”x22” acrylic sheets sealed in upright frames. The process of “writing” these notes takes place outside, on each chosen site, with provisional materials such as vinyl, marker, pastel, acrylic paint, gel pen, colored tape, and graphite. As I make each one, I use color, texture, gesture, shape, and composition to have a push/pull experience—a dialogue—that determines aspects of the site I want to emphasize, counter, or let be. Because each note is a one-off, the stakes are high and I feel vulnerable. But because each note is small and imperfect, the stakes are also low and I feel playful. This invested improvisation encapsulates the dynamism, complication, and intimacy that arises from a process of acquaintance.
Visitors are encouraged to approach each piece, simultaneously examining the note while peering into the environment through the acrylic margins, experiencing firsthand the way in which an active process of acquaintance generates connection.
Amanda Light | 30 Park Place
Inner Action, 2021
Recycled plastic
Over the course of our lives, various circumstances can cause us to turn inward. As we go through these periods of self isolation, we explore our inner landscapes to purge outdated beliefs and situations that cause us pain. Ruminating within ourselves and limiting exposure to outside stimulus and opinion, we are able to find what truly motivates and inspires us and even begin to see more clearly a way to move forward as an individual. What happens when an entire global collective of individuals turns inward at the same time? What old ideological structures have been identified to be transformed into the new, toward the future? Visions are born, and the pieces and the roadways to make those visions possible emerge. As each individual engages in this inward discovery, this inner action, the interactions they have with one another, the collective, and the world at large may be transformed, clarified, and made more fluid, cohesive, and intentional.
Inner Action is a recycled plastic sculpture featuring wave-like tendrils that ascend, twist, and dive into the earth to emerge again, all while engaging in a dance with one another, moving ever forward.
Ashley Lyon | 375 Grand St
Boob Bench, 2021
Stoneware, Terra Sigillata
This ceramic work by Ashley Lyon entitled Boob Bench 2021 (edition 2/20) becomes a utilitarian object, inviting individuals to rest atop engorged breasts. Lyon’s sculptures celebrate a lusciousness of flesh and intimacy, visualized through the ever-changing maternal body. Ashley’s recent works are in a complicated relationship with sentimentality; enlarged domestic objects and cropped body sections reference support and transformation, while these swollen breasts—presented as a bench—elude easy meaning. A mashup of sex, body, and baby, the naked weight and labor of young motherhood’s emotional and physical intensity is laid bare.
Lyon’s newest work seeks to mine the incredibly rich and complex territory of the changes —to the physical and physiological body—inherent in the process of becoming a mother. She considers the “simultaneity of the mother's experience, at once breathtaking, beautiful, confusing, and grueling.” These are words and pieces which embody Alexandra Sacks’s term “matrescense,” the birth of a mother, the profound transition comparable to that experienced in the time of adolescence; at once the body and the mind are assailed by contradictory emotions, ambivalent perspectives. Motherhood, these pieces remind us, rarely matches up to expectations, whether those expectations are internalized or exposed from without, by society and all its norms.
Matthew Lusk | 29 + 30 Chambers St
Two if By Hand (Chambers Street Scene), 2021
Steel, salvaged columns, enamel, mop heads, chain, assorted hardware.
Note: Work is installed on the side of two facing buildings
Originally, this was conceived as a simple conclusion to a love letter to the city of Newburgh; the ending of a note to the people and buildings in this town. I looked around my studio and found the rough ingredients for two large Xs and two large Os: four Ionic columns found at a re-use warehouse in the Hudson Valley, and a pair of steel rings salvaged from a distillery in Kings County. These are the kinds of things I have at-hand, apparently.
At some point, the idea assumed some glitches. The round pieces, of a scale smaller than the straight elements, found each other and surrendered their identity as individual letters. Together, they formed a symbol of spectacles. An old-fashioned sign.
The columns, already somewhat overdetermined, cloaked themselves in funereal black which did nothing to hide them or conceal their regal dignity.
Mops were introduced to tidy things up a bit. They did nothing of the sort. Instead, the shaggy manes confused the whole venture, implying a mess that must be cleaned up. The mess is not entirely visible.
The glasses now loom above this parking lot like the eyes of Dr. Eckleburg over a valley of ashes some sixty miles south and a hundred years past.
The ashes here are a building now gone. There’s not even a ghost left behind, just an absence heightened but not memorialized by the cancellation marks of a pair of enormous X assemblages on an unrestored building across the street. The columns they’re made of are simultaneously razed and raised.
The Os look side-eyed at its forlorn neighbor. The Xs face south, stoic. Are they supposed to be the kisses or the hugs? I’ve forgotten.
Leonardo Martinez | 11 Spring St
Gone Fishing, 2021
Wine barrel, driftwood, fishing pole, beach wood bark, paint
Note: Work has been moved to the lot next door (Spring + Liberty), set back by stairwell
My art is as I am: mixed, spontaneous, colorful, moody. Silent yet loud. Seemingly chaotic, but with intent and direction. Needing to be explained and led to understand. In truth, I'm an introvert forced out of my shell and safety zone. To express myself, I create something to please, interest. All my work contains my karma and a piece of my soul. It is me.
Liz Nielsen | 18 Lander St
Orbiting Garden, 2021
Analog Chromogenic Photogram, on Fujiclear, Unique
Presented inside of Wooden Flower box by Nick des Cognets
Without the use of a camera, Nielsen creates her own negatives and paints with light. Exposing photographs in the analog color darkroom and processing them through traditional color chemistry, her technique is both current and from the past.
Liz's work is focused on achieving transcendence through landscape and elements of abstraction. Her images exist outside of time and without gravity. She invites her viewers to enter into her 'worlds' and experience quantum sight, leaps of consciousness, and visually arrive at two or more places at once.
Question to the viewer: When looking at Orbiting Garden....Do you feel yourself hiking, crawling, swimming, or falling or all of these things?
Liz Nielsen's Orbiting Garden is a site-specific sculpture depicting an image of plants floating in orbit against a cosmic backdrop of stars, or dirt and fertilizer.
Kayla Noble | 267 Liberty St
Undergrowth, 2021
Ceramic
Small quiet moments in nature are where I begin to heal. Two trees intertwined, a vine curling just so, or the way a leaf can glide gracefully to the ground fill my heart with wonder. This piece explores the growth and reverence that can happen out of the deepest of sorrows. Playful, whimsical ceramic tendrils emerge from the domesticated landscape—disrupting space and asking for curious engagement. Black and white stripes conjure images of witches and folklore, speaking to fantastical stories and fables that a community can turn to as a way to process a traumatic event, teach a lesson, and preserve tradition. My work exists in a world somewhere between domesticated and feral, relying on the power of objects to invite the viewer into my narrative—a story balanced between unadulterated emotion and quiet contemplation.
Qasi Pink | 27 E Parmenter St
Hyperlink Dollhouse no. 3 or HD3, 2021
Recycled and acquired objects, digital prints on paper, plastics, rubber, cloth, and interactive digital media
Hyperlink Dollhouse no. 3 is a community driven&collaborative artwork 4conjuring the magic of home. Using online tools, prompts, &questions via http://linktr.ee/h3id & physical QR code, u will b able2share text, drawings, photos, &sounds2b morphed in2 3D objects & soundscapes. W/your help, I believe we can build a mess2bless. <3
A word from the HD3 tour guide.
Welcome2HD3, located@the nexus of sci-fi, fantasy, documentary, & interactive art. From late September through early November, we@HD3 seek2collect your everyday human digital artifacts & process them through the magic of technology in2 virtual architectures, l&scapes, & tchotchkes. - H3i-D (Hyperlink Homebody Hoarding 🤷♀️internet…y?🤷♀️ Disorganizer).
HD3 will find its entrance in the city of Newburgh, the physical world. W/influence in early 2000s community & simulation based computer games & websites, the dollhouse comfortably finds own its home w/in the ever growing virtual world of New Art City.
New Art City is an online multiplayer exhibition space for digital art & performance. Their 3D gallery toolkit allows artists and curators to build new types of exhibition spaces that can be accessed by hundreds of simultaneous visitors from all over the world w/ no need to register or download anything. They are an artist-run organization dedicated to supporting artists, providing virtual space for those who are denied physical space, and amplifying the work of those who face systemic injustice. You can find their work at https://newart.city
skuzzgrime.com
@skuzzgrimeqbp
Courtney Puckett | 124 Grand St
InForm, 2021
Repurposed rope and textiles
InForm is a public artwork constructed from repurposed rope and textiles. The artwork’s intricate construction is immediate, while the letters of the work reveal themselves slowly, like a secret message one encounters in an unexpected location. InForm uses traditional craft materials instead of historically hard-edge and patriarchal materials, such as marble and bronze. Rope knotting, like knitting and quilting, is a labor-intensive and traditionally female craft that carries the sharing of stories. As an outdoor sculpture, it liberates fiber material from the confines of small-scale wall hangings in domestic interior spaces to aesthetic material capable of outdoor architectural scale. Committed to ecological thinking, Puckett salvages materials that would otherwise end up in landfills.
InForm is in the spirit of outdoor fabric works such as the AIDS Memorial Quilt (1987–ongoing) and The Monumental Quilt for Sexual Violence (2019), both at the National Mall in Washington DC, wherein a participatory audience’s individual contributions collectively create a monumental artwork that addresses important social issues. In a contemporary world where information and misinformation freely shared on the internet has the power to overthrow governments, change the outcome of elections, and shape the public’s response to a global pandemic, we must recognize the source of information and how it is shared.
Located at the Newburgh Free Library, Puckett invited the public to bring gently used textiles (bedsheets, clothing, household textiles, etc.) to participate in the weaving and knotting of the artwork on September 19th, 2021.
courtneypuckett.com
@courtneygpuckett
Jennifer Rawlison | 110 Dubois St
Free to Fall, 2021
Cut and formed sheet metal, wire and metal mesh, image transfer, etching
This piece represents individual choice, perceived rights, public health, global citizenry, and the consequences when one supersedes another. Eighteen months into a pandemic, we continue to endure interruptions to every aspect of life: mobility, education, relationships. The ideological polarization of a simple piece of cloth has set forth free-falling figures. The choice for some acts as a parachute, enabling a more controlled descent and opportunity to connect with others and find support. For others, the choice leads one free to fall, uncontrolled and unsure.
Neen Rivera | 24 Courtney Ave
Growing Boriquan, 2021
Wire and vines
This wire sculpture comes from deep pain the artist experienced when trying to talk to a studio of white artists about including Brown in imagery. The defensive artists challenged (gaslit) Neen Rivera to incorporate more Brown into their own work first and, as a result, Neen dove deeper into their culture and found so much love and inspiration that led to the creation of this sculpture. The symbol in this sculpture is a petroglyph from the Borinquen (Puerto Rican) caves that represents a person. It was important to the artist that the house site for this installation is Brown, it creates the image that this Boriquan is Brown, beautiful, connected to nature, strong, and proud. It is the artist's mission to advocate for the inclusion of Tan, Black, Brown, and all the beautiful shades in-between into all imagery. Too long have white artists pretended that Brown doesn’t exist. Brown is just as beautiful as every other color. It is a racist lie that brown doesn’t “go with” certain colors such as neon or rainbow, and that only further enforces the racism that tries to shame melanated humans from wearing pink, yellow, neon, etc. Representation matters. What we see in art affects how we think and how we treat one another. I ask that you actively advocate for Brown inclusion in any part of your life. Let’s give Brown the respect it deserves. Brown is beautiful.
Stuart Sachs | 115 Broadway
Broadway chess, 2021
Oak tree
Broadway chess is an interactive sculpture in which the viewer is invited to sit on, touch, hold, and move the pieces around to play a game of chess. Two chairs and a table carved from an oak tree brought down by a tornado in Newburgh. I carved a bench and left it in front of my building and the spot soon became a gathering location for neighbours to sit, stand, talk, or have a beer or soda. It activated the street, and engaged the public.
Broadway Chess is the second generation evolution of this project. In the second transformation. I sculpted the tree into a chess table with two chairs. I invite the passer by to sit at and challenge another to a game of chess. The viewer activates the second transformation, and the sculpture becomes a performance piece, breaking the fourth wall. I will create board pieces based on the most minimal geometric shapes including cubes, cylinders, and rectilinear solids based on the golden ratio. Pieces will evoke the essential nature of themselves using only the most minimal of shapes. The piece itself will transform by the activity of the viewer who joins the artist as collaborator in the public performance.
Jennifer Lauren Smith | 19 Liberty St
Grosse Michel, 2015
Patinated bronze (five elements)
Note: Installed in the right window of shop
The Grosse Michel (“Big Mike”) banana grows bountifully, wildly, in my native Florida—a kitschy, erotic botanical, the rock ballad of fruit. A flowering stalk spills forth from a shady trunk, sprouting the fruits in an action that feels so urgent, exposed, emotive, and pure. This implied musicality prompted the decision to render the form in a heavy gauge—bronze—something unaffected by time and not following the laws of bananas. Instead, they follow the laws of artifice, resulting in the construction of an abstract form, materially vital. Formally aware, crisp semblances—they are blank totems of sexual desire, roving signs of transnational identity, unrealized laughter, unheimlich, familiar, and unfamiliar things.
Touch Base with, 2021
Handmade ceramic stoneware tiles, screen-printed ceramic decals
Note: Installation is subtle! Look along the foundation of the building
Touch Base With is a site-specific installation of handmade ceramic tiles that bring attention to an unnoticed public space. Adhered to the base of a residential building, the site and unexpected placement are as tantamount to piece as the clay itself. The work emphasizes the potential of transformative connections that can occur on an everyday street.
The idiom "Touch Base With" is a colloquial phrase that is instantly recognizable and understood. Tessellated into a pattern, the saying becomes abstracted in the repetition. Familiar yet foreign, the open-ended text speaks directly to the viewer, questioning the interpersonal connections and communication in our lives.
Intended as a whisper, not a shout, the color of the text blends the tiles into their background. Camouflaged to its surroundings, the work becomes seamlessly intermeshed with its environment. Drawing inspiration from street art and graffiti, the piece is meant to slow down the unsuspecting audience, pull them in and create a moment of reflection.
Made collaboratively between printmaker Tonja Torgerson and ceramicist Joel Weissman under the enigmatic moniker of SUBPAR, this project combines text and materiality to accentuate widely overlooked public spaces. In altering spaces, we transform the way they are experienced and interacted with, giving them new purpose.
