Self Portrait with Giant Jenga: Refound Materials.
(Unlikely but Not Impossible) 2024
10th Street Studios
West Virginia USA 2024
My first artist residency in 2011 proved to be a transformative experience. It provided a rare opportunity to engage in sustained artistic production, free from the constraints of everyday obligations. I approached this period with deliberate intensity, entering the studio early each morning, often by 6 a.m., when the expansive spaces remained unoccupied. This solitude fostered an environment conducive to experimentation, allowing the notion of play to emerge as a central generative force within my practice.
Although the studios were well supplied with conventional art materials, my attention was drawn to objects not typically associated with formal artistic production. During the summer months, these spaces functioned as teaching studios and social environments for art students, and were consequently equipped with various games and recreational items. Among these was a set of oversized, outdoor Jenga blocks. While intended for gameplay, I began to perceive them instead as modular wooden units that could be repurposed through exploratory making.
Engaging in a process of playful experimentation, I tested alternative methods of stacking the blocks, often pursuing deliberately precarious configurations. Moving away from the vertical logic of the game, I introduced shifts in orientation that generated curved rather than linear forms. Although such arrangements initially resulted in structural instability, I discovered that reversing the directional orientation of the blocks could reintroduce balance while simultaneously producing a double-curved structure. This iterative process could be extended until the full set of blocks was incorporated, resulting in an increasingly complex and dynamic construction.
(Unlikely but Not Impossible) 2024
10th Street Studios
West Virginia USA 2024
My first artist residency in 2011 proved to be a transformative experience. It provided a rare opportunity to engage in sustained artistic production, free from the constraints of everyday obligations. I approached this period with deliberate intensity, entering the studio early each morning, often by 6 a.m., when the expansive spaces remained unoccupied. This solitude fostered an environment conducive to experimentation, allowing the notion of play to emerge as a central generative force within my practice.
Although the studios were well supplied with conventional art materials, my attention was drawn to objects not typically associated with formal artistic production. During the summer months, these spaces functioned as teaching studios and social environments for art students, and were consequently equipped with various games and recreational items. Among these was a set of oversized, outdoor Jenga blocks. While intended for gameplay, I began to perceive them instead as modular wooden units that could be repurposed through exploratory making.
Engaging in a process of playful experimentation, I tested alternative methods of stacking the blocks, often pursuing deliberately precarious configurations. Moving away from the vertical logic of the game, I introduced shifts in orientation that generated curved rather than linear forms. Although such arrangements initially resulted in structural instability, I discovered that reversing the directional orientation of the blocks could reintroduce balance while simultaneously producing a double-curved structure. This iterative process could be extended until the full set of blocks was incorporated, resulting in an increasingly complex and dynamic construction.
|
|
As the form developed, it became visually reminiscent of a human spinal column. This resemblance held significance on multiple levels. Aesthetically, I was drawn to the elegance and rhythm of the emerging structure. Conceptually, the association was more personal: I have a form of spina bifida, and the evocation of the spine resonated with my embodied experience. This connection was further reinforced by the physical conditions of the work’s production. Due to discomfort caused by bending, I constructed the piece atop an inverted IKEA step-stool, which functioned both as a practical support and as an integral sculptural element. Its material continuity with the wooden blocks allowed it to operate simultaneously as a plinth and as part of the overall form.
Elevating the structure on the stool also repositioned its apex to approximately six feet above the ground, corresponding to my own height. The convergence of these factors, the formal resemblance to a spine, the accommodation of my physical condition, and the alignment with my bodily scale, ultimately informed the work’s title: Self Portrait with Giant Jenga
In retrospect, this work demonstrates how materially driven play can evolve into a mode of critical and self-reflective inquiry. What began as an intuitive engagement with found objects developed into a sculptural investigation of balance, instability, and embodied experience. The resulting form operates not only as a formal exploration of structure and rhythm, but also as a subtle articulation of the relationship between the body, limitation, and creative adaptation. As such, the residency marked a pivotal moment in my practice, establishing play as both a methodological approach and a means of generating meaning through the intersection of personal narrative and material process.
Elevating the structure on the stool also repositioned its apex to approximately six feet above the ground, corresponding to my own height. The convergence of these factors, the formal resemblance to a spine, the accommodation of my physical condition, and the alignment with my bodily scale, ultimately informed the work’s title: Self Portrait with Giant Jenga
In retrospect, this work demonstrates how materially driven play can evolve into a mode of critical and self-reflective inquiry. What began as an intuitive engagement with found objects developed into a sculptural investigation of balance, instability, and embodied experience. The resulting form operates not only as a formal exploration of structure and rhythm, but also as a subtle articulation of the relationship between the body, limitation, and creative adaptation. As such, the residency marked a pivotal moment in my practice, establishing play as both a methodological approach and a means of generating meaning through the intersection of personal narrative and material process.