statement
I'm very fond of long walks.
While living as an artist-in-residence in Noyers-sur-Serein, strolling was one of my favorite activities. A small, fairytale cité nestled in the heart of Bourgogne, Noyers was surrounded by seemingly endless fields; and within the town, the rooftops of the medieval buildings were all connected. On shingles and grass alike, my feet did a lot of exploring. There was something refreshing about aimlessly venturing into an unknown territory. It was a way to clear my head a bit… speaking as a person whose head is never clear.
I've always had very sensitive skin. It seems like even the most minor changes in weather, stressors, and environmental factors send my skin into a frenzy. After moving to France, my skin became even more vulnerable, and I noticed these changes almost instantly. At the slightest provocation, my arms would break out into redness and irritation; even the softest touch left a tangible trail of goosebumps behind. It was these effects that caused me to think of my skin itself as a landscape. I began exploring its surface closely with a macro lens, and discovered miles and miles of uncharted 'land.' Scars and wrinkles and fingerprints became a quiet, undiscovered world that I had unknowingly stepped into. I was delighted with the fragile and stark photographic results, and set out to capture every valley and hill.
The more I photographed, the more the soft, dot-like texture of my skin's surface reminded me of Braille. What if, I thought, one could actually 'read' skin simply by running a finger over a line of goosebumps? I had always been fascinated by the tactile, and Braille—a language that must literally be felt to be understood—completely captivated me. While teaching myself the letters and contractions, I translated the thoughts I had during my walks in Noyers into Braille. Through the use of an embossing tool, I directly incorporated these Braille-thoughts into the prints, natural to the landscapes as the very bumps and crevices of my skin.
The visual result of this exploration is a foggy, ethereal quest through a world where reality is not relevant. Braille thoughts drift in and out of the snowy-looking landscape; a solitary figure treads quietly, alone. Part personal experience and part imagined meditation, One Hears the Forgotten Constantly is a harkening of the unknown—a cloudy, distant memory of a place I haven't been.
bio
born: 1989, Cincinnati, Ohio
education
University of Cincinnati, BFA, 2011
selected awards/honors
Artist's Residency, La Port Peinte Centre pour les Arts, Noyers-sur-Serein, France, 2012
Outstanding Fine Arts Senior Award, University of Cincinnati, 2011
Cincinnatus Scholarship, Founders Level, University of Cincinnati, 2007-2011
Wolfstein Fine Arts Freshman Scholarship for Promising Artists, University of Cincinnati, 2007-2011
selected publications
International Photography Annual, vol. 1. Cincinnati, OH: Manifest Press, 2012.
Best of College Photography. Santa Barbara, CA: Photographer's Forum, 2009.
International Drawing Annual, vol. 4. Cincinnati, OH: Manifest Press, 2009.
selected solo or two-person exhibits
La Porte Peinte Centre pour les Arts: On Entend Sans Cesse L'Oublié (One Hears the Forgotten Constantly), Noyers-sur-Serein, Bourgogne, France, 2012
Max Kade German Cultural Center: Berlin Bleibt Berlin, Cincinnati, OH, 2011
840 Gallery: Letters to My Dearest Strangers, Cincinnati, OH, 2010
selected group shows
The Carnegie Visual and Performing Arts Center: Regional Photo Competition (FotoFocus), Covington, KY, 2012
Dorothy W. and C. Lawson Jr. Reed Gallery: DAAPWorks, Cincinnati, OH, 2011
Prairie Gallery: Things I Burned in the Fire I Started, Cincinnati, OH, 2010
Manifest Creative Research Gallery and Drawing Center: Mythography, Cincinnati, OH, 2009
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