Goat’s hair, cast resin, oil paint, chicken toes, black ribbon, fiberglass 18" x 13" x 8"
Mixed media, resin, papier-mache, oil paint; Swing: wood, rope 13" x 14" (swing: 19" x 5.25")
Mixed media, papier-mache, oil paint, silicone, acrylic nails, nail polish, human hair; Base: wood, mirror 8.5' × 2.5' (Base: 2' × 2.5')
Painted metal cages, fabric, foam pads, silicone, silicone pigment, faux eyelashes, human hair, plastic breathing mechanism, batteries 57" × 24" × 17"
Porcelain clay, resin, marble, copper wire, glass eyes, acrylic paint. 9.5 x 8 x 6 inches I initially created this small hybrid creature – part human, part Monarch butterfly – earlier this year, in response to a charitable initiative to repair the roof of a local Presbyterian Church in Bloomfield, NJ. After a member of the church ministry approached me for a donation of salable work on the theme of Angels, I began thinking about angels themselves, and their role as intercessors and traveler between realms. Not totally of heaven or of earth, I created this hybrid and rather vulnerable being made of gold, its body modeled after Rodin, and its wings, eyes, and proboscis based on the extensive research material I have accumulated on the Monarch Butterfly. Angels act as our protectors, but who protects them? I have long created hybrids of human and animal species, and was grateful for this opportunity to work on a smaller scale than usual, and enjoyed looking to the work of Renaissance goldsmiths in my choice of coloring and composition. For the last 10 years I have been making work related to saving the Monarch butterfly population, whose migratory patterns I have studied closely ever since I attended the Bio Art and Science Laboratory institute at SVA. Butterflies (which travel overhead by the thousands every year) are a key link in pollination and crop health. Without them, our food supply, and our very health, would suffer. We—as humans—must, in effect, become their guardian angels if they are to go on protecting us. “Metamorphosis” crouches on a cold marble base; its body is hermaphroditic (part male, part female), its eyes are glass, and its proboscis is copper wire. The wing patterning is based on actual wings I have observed under powerful TKNAME microscopy while at SVA. The title references Kafka, because his monstrous-and-fully-compassion-worthy character, Gregor Samsa, has long sustained me in the creation of numerous other chimeric hybrids I have created over the years—monkey-human newborns, chickenhuman toddlers, and giraffe-human young women, to name a few.
Clay; faux fur; children’s clothing; turf; wooden garden fencing Dimensions variable (Fence Perimeter: 54 x 108 inches Toddler: 46 inches tall) As an artist, and, as a human being, I have long been concerned with the issue of genetic engineering – in particular, how its rapid progress has been largely ignored by a public that is unprepared to deal with the inevitable ethical fallout. While most mothers of a certain social circle worry about getting their sons into a good school, hybrid children like this one (part human, part giraffe) are going unnoticed in the classroom and playground every day. He not only calls attention to ethical issues of species, but also of bullying. His different appearance has led to him becoming a target for the ire of his classmates. This 5-year-old has already become exposed to the harsh reality ahead of him, unlike his 3-year-old sister, who has yet to begin school. Here we have green turf surrounded by short, white, picket-style fencing. White picket fences have a long history of being symbols of idealistic Americana. The picturesque middle-class life. But this boy stands isolated because of his difference. Maybe, if we are willing to imagine the life that a little boy like this would lead, we can more clearly examine, and prepare for, a better future for all boys?
Metal ants, clay, papier-mâché/decoupage, glass (eyes) 8 x 4 x 4 inches (each ant). These are the first artworks I have created during the pandemic. I did them early on, and they soldier on for what lay ahead: Warrior ants with the printed patterns and coloration of endangered cats. Here I am using fantasy to lighten up a serious situation. I was limited to using materials that I had available to me already. As the pandemic became more serious and frightening, I moved on to paintings.
Porcelain. "When a mother turtle lays her eggs in the sand, and returns to the sea, it is an act of thanksgiving and trust. The world she entrusts to gestate and deliver her offspring to the beach is the same world that provided her own long and prosperous life in the sea. In this way, the life of the turtle, the sediments, and the waves are inextricably entwined, to be taken for granted by earthlings -- as they should be." Richard Brundell Ecologist PhD https://oika.com
Papier-mâché, wood, resin, glass (eyes), oil paint, faux eyelashes, spandex, store-bought clothing (polyester, suede, poly-blend), luggage bag with modified handle (wood) Seated: 57 inches H x 78 inches L x 24 inches W (standing: 113 inches); (bag: 75 inches H x 10 inches L x 13 inches W) This chimeric hybrid (part giraffe, part human) awaits her fate after what seems to have been a long and arduous journey. She is thankful to put her feet up for a little while hear and rest. It is interesting to note that, despite her vulnerable expression, “giraffe’s” strong fashion statement— particularly her animal-print dress—hints at a strong will for survival. Cheetahs are the giraffe’s natural predators in the wild. *However, humans are far worse hunters of the giraffe than the cheetah; poaching has reduced Saharan giraffe populations down 40% of the last 30 years.*
Glass, resin, papier-mâché, goose and duck feathers, acrylic paint, human hair. 16.5 x 8 x 8 inches. I’ve created cremation urns before, but this particular urn is for Gil, my husband. I wanted to create something personal for him, with a touch of my own sense of humor. In various cultures, the eagle represents many things -- strength, independence, determination, stamina, power, honesty. He is all these things, and more. I used his actual hair around the eagle’s eyes to celebrate his memory and preserve his essence – a tradition that dates back to the memento-mori of Victorian times. A lock of hair is an amazing material with which to work, because it will remain colorfast and unchanged for decades.
Deer hooves, human hair, glass (eyes), oil paint, resin, papier-mâché 7.5 x 14 x 11 inches Bruised, burnt—and scared—this chimeric baby (part koala, part deer, part human) awaits rescue, another vulnerable refugee from the recent Australian wildfires. Baby koalas are called “joeys” and normally feed on milk and eucalyptus pap made by their mother. Their populations require other koalas (“societies”, much like humans) in order to survive. Now, room service will have to do. Joey’s hooves are those of a species of Australian deer that also recently escaped extinction in the fires. The Australian koala population is currently classified as “threatened” whereas the Australian deer population is classified as “not threatened”. The human species was not available for comment. *The hooves that appear here were ethically sourced by the artist.*