When we venture Out of Bounds (Our March exhibition theme), we enter unexplored territory—new, unmapped. In exploring the blank areas on our maps, we may get lost, find something disturbing, even frightening, or new, exciting and wonderful. Whether it’s working with materials and techniques new to us or dealing with unfamiliar subject matter, we cannot predict what we may encounter. This goes double for what may show up in our own mind. I see us artists as intrepid explorers. It’s our job. Same goes for writers, filmmakers, musicians, research scientists—everyone engaged in finding solutions for serious problems, and locating dangerous problems in the first place. Here are photos of some of the work that will be on display in April, with the artist’s comments.
While the phrase 'uncharted territory' has entered daily language, perhaps our present and future are not uncharted: the more things apparently change, the more they stay the same. Does that mean we’ve always been in uncharted territory, and does it become more known, or are we constantly on the edge?
Uncharted territory often involves pushing the boundaries of intrigue and uncertainty. This piece was done on an unknown fabric that already had some stains on it. Every addition of paint and drawing led to more stains that were never predictable or under my control. It was a go-with-what’s-happening process.
When life unexpectedly takes away some part of us, or someone dear to us, we must deal with the loss, the changes, as best we can. What might recovery and moving into new territory look like? One feels one’s way.
i'd say that uncharted territory is space or story that are unknown to me, but that i want to know, or at least to follow the bread crumbs into that unknown, and map it as best i can.
This is a piece from a series called Schemes for Living on a Pissed Off Planet, playfully imaging climate solutions using materials we know, and a lot of pluck. We have a tall boot as an apartment house, it’s own dock that can rise with sea level as the folks inside move up, and a helicopter pad. And there's a tongue-in-cheek reference to the Old Mother Hubbard nursery rhyme.