This piece started with trying to make the space feel like a space for exhibition. It had been a working studio, so I spent time patching, painting, and addressing light. I knew early on I didn’t want to deal with fluorescents, so I brought in my own lights and started from there.
I placed painting came first; it felt like the anchor, and everything else grew around it. Some of the objects are handmade, like the nets and baskets. Others were found: red wooden spheres, bricks, a milk crate, and a last-minute plastic spiral a friend handed me during install. I’m drawn to materials that carry a sense of play or possibility, and I let them guide the arrangement.
I usually work with walls, but this time I wanted to stay closer to the ground. I didn’t use any nails or screws, which meant I had to be more inventive—suspending things from the ductwork, or making use of what was already here. That limitation actually opened up something new in me.
This piece, like most of my work, was made through a process of slow discovery. I don’t begin with fixed meaning; instead, meaning shows up as I work, and sometimes not right away. I’m learning to be okay with that. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about structure—how much is too much, and what kind of order still leaves room for surprise.
Violet Austerlitz interviewed me in the space during the final stages of installation; a full recording of our exchange can be found here.