X Large C.O.C.K. 032521-01 (Poppy) (No one respects you for your oversize mouth), 2021
1952 Learn How book, 1955 Lido de Paris program, 1969 Playboy, 1976 Barbie coloring book, auction catalog, embroidery thread, magazine, stickers, vintage newspaper c1950, and vintage postcard c1950 on paper
19 x 14 inches
Large C.O.C.K. 120621-01 (Baby, Baby, Baby) (Orchid), 2021
Large C.O.C.K. 120621-01 (Baby, Baby, Baby) (Orchid), 2021
1934 handwritten recipe, 1946 cookbook, 1940s vintage photograph, 1947 Encyclopedia Brittanica, 1969 Marlboro ad, 1976 Barbie coloring book, Rek-o-kut record player advertisement, c1950s, auction catalog, card on paper
14 x 11 inches
Large C.O.C.K. 120721-02 (Crazy Pudding) (Poppy), 2021
Large C.O.C.K. 120721-02 (Crazy Pudding) (Poppy), 2021
1957 cookbook, auction catalog, embroidery thread, inkjet print, and magazine on paper
14 x 11 inches
Large C.O.C.K. 031621-01 (How To Bake A Batch Of Children) (Lilac), 2021
Audio Transcription
The Collages on Color Kaleidoscopes, or C.O.C.K.S., combine feminine images cut from magazines and advertisements and pairs them with cutouts of artworks and floral motifs along with found objects and sewing notions. These nostalgia-femme works, saturated in color are descendants of magazine layouts and scrapbooking motifs.
These pieces riff on the ‘commonplace books’ of the 15th century, which compiled items like recipes, quotations, letters and poems. The ‘friendship albums’ of the 16th century, to the yearbooks and friendship books created by 18th and 19th century school girls. These replaced journaling as a way to document their experiences in a way that was aesthetically pleasing, using the ephemera and memorabilia from their daily lives, such as visiting cards, ticket stubs, plants and even trinkets. More personally, these are manifestations of growing up with a Mother that was a graphic designer, realizing those basic building blocks of design were imbedded in my psyche while sitting in on her ‘Graphic Design for Non-Art Majors’ in my pre-teen years, when I should have been concentrating on my math homework.
The collages in this series are focused on elements of nostalgia and word play or innuendo. Taking vintage cookbook recipes or advertisements glorifying the sexist landscape of the mid-20th century and turning its head on the feminine nostalgia of the cult of domesticity. Most of the items used to collage have been passed along to me from my Mother, Grandmother, and Great Grandmother. These objects of my lineage call to an era that seems so familiar and so foreign at the same time. Embroidery thread that I vaguely remember being taught how to make a blanket-stitch, now used to puncture the paper, creating a slash across the imagery. Round stickers, like the ones my Grandma used during her summer garage sales, alongside snippets of vintage recipes, the titles and descriptions shouting double entendre, “Pineapple Delight”, “Chocolate Coconut Twosome”, or in this case, a reader’s submission from the 1958 Happy Home Cookbook, “How to bake a batch of children.” This piece has a Lichtenstein eye, cut from an auction catalog, a floral from a Linder photograph featured in a contemporary magazine, a vintage camera advertisement, and a Playboy model from the year 1969.
Pair/Pairs: Crutches/He, 2020
Crutches/He, 2020
Acrylic, archival pigment print, catalog, embroidery thread, 1947 Encyclopedia Brittanica, ink, magazine, marker, sticker and vellum on watercolor paper
14 x 11 inches
The featured photograph in Crutches/He, 2020 is of my Paternal Grandmother and Grandfather. My Grandpa died before I was born, but there is a story of him breaking his back when he was fixing the roof of one of the properties he was a landlord of. The way I remember it, he was told he wouldn’t walk again, but somehow he pushed through and was able to again. My Dad still has his crutches in the attic.
Each letter is stenciled backwards on the back of the photograph, and then hand-cut with an Exacto-blade. The pair is dissected by the colored block behind it, revealing the second word.
The jewels from an auction catalog remind me of the nostalgic feeling in the photograph, as I wear the diamond engagement ring my Step-Grandfather gave my Grandmother as my own engagement ring. A snippet from a 1947 Encyclopedia Brittanica of a black and white replication of the 1434 painting The Arnolfini Wedding by Jan van Eyck, depicting a somber-faced couple in their fine attire juxtaposed by my Grandparents smiling faces in theirs.
My Grandmother was an avid gardener, so I included a floral drawing and the sun-drenched photograph of a field of flowers surrounding her portion of the photograph. The close-up rectangle of a yellow-orange and pink smear of what appears to be paint, is actually a swath of frosting from a cake, something I remember my Grandmother often made for birthdays and celebrations, although it was usually chocolate smeared upon a German chocolate cake.
One Word Poem: Baby (Lichtenstein), 2019
Baby (Lichtenstein), 2019
Archival pigment print, auction catalog, ink, and vellum
Image 5 7/8 x 9 inches
My Father always called the women in his life “Baby,” so it’s not surprising to me that the person I most associate with this word is my Dad. In all fairness, I am the youngest.
Sunset reflected in a cloud hovering above the East side of Los Angeles the summer of 2019. The reds, yellows, and blues softened against the starkness of the Lichtenstein woman in the background.
The black lines of the eye mimicked in the ink outlines of the floral petals on vellum.