our own back yard

My artwork represents a series of explorations about what it means to be human. I visit themes that relate to universal experiences that are present in our own life narratives. I am especially interested in exploring the bridges that bring us into a connection with our past, those that bring us into a relationship with the natural world, and those that lead us to question who we are.  

        For years now, my artistic practice has involved digging deeply into a theme, or idea, researching it, and developing a visual response to this research through series of artworks. The artworks are executed in a variety of media, including but not limited to painting, mixed media works, lumen photography, installation art, and found object constructions. My choice of media varies from exhibition to exhibition, and is dictated by the needs and parameters of the project. There are several thematic threads that run through my work. My love for science and the humanities is part of my identity and has become the basis for who I am as an artist. In recent years, my art has revolved around the study of botany--specifically, botanical practices that have led to ecosystem degradation and homogenization.  

        The issues surrounding biodiversity loss are broad and far-reaching. To explore all aspects artistically would take a lifetime.Recognizing this, I decided to do so in a very small way. Although it is perhaps easiest to lay all the blame for our environmental woes at the feet of industry and multinational corporations, I felt compelled to begin my exploration at home. We are told that we are all responsible for the degradation and homogenization of our ecosystems but I wanted to know how much my own lack of attention to biodiversity issues might impact the environment around me.I chose to examine this global issue, therefore, through an artistic and scientific investigation of a suburban lot in Bright’s Grove, Ontario. My own yard with its soil, seed, and flora became my laboratory and provided the boundaries for this exhibition--one which took me from the study of my own plants to the writings of historical figures who were bent on the conquest of this land and its people.  

        The aim of my works is not to propose answers to our widespread environmental and social problems. Rather, by turning a lens onto the soil and seeds that I “possess” (but knew almost nothing about until I undertook this project), my artworks in this exhibition seek to inspire people to take a really close look at environment at their feet. It is my hope that the artworks may also offer the basis for discussion on issues of biodiversity, and of environmental and social responsibility.

Ever wonder what is really growing on the lawn beneath your feet?As part of my quest to document my back yard, I began a project to create a herbarium of the plants that grew in my lawn over the course of one growing season (2009).  Herbaria are collections of plant specimens from a specific area that are pressed, preserved and documented for scientific study. By painting my specimens with metallic spray paint before mounting them, I deliberately blur the boundary between art and science-- between the natural and unnatural. All plant specimens are mounted onto masonite panels with beeswax. The beeswax is also used as a sculptural element. The size of the masonite panels and the size, position, and contents of the labels are all consistent with current scientific practice. The panels I am using are palimpsests containing old and new writings and wisdom, botanical drawings, etc. These writings are covered, faded, and partially erased so that only small portions remain visible to the viewer. 

By displaying these panels as though the plants within them are sprouting up all over the walls,  I am inviting the viewer to see, perhaps for the first time,  an almost magical view of the unique character and tenacity of what we usually refer to as “weeds”.  That which is usually beneath our feet is brought into view.  

For this project,  I collected 82 different species of plants growing in my lawn, none of which I had planted there.  Sometimes, these plants were unexpected.  Who knew that I had common wheat growing in my front lawn?!

The Triptych Altarpiece is an installation containing soil, seeds, and water--the bounty given to my land. This installation brings into view those parts of our landscape that we tend to ignore on a day-to-day basis. By placing them along with fragments of images, text, and historical documents, into an altarpiece made from antique printer drawers, I address the idea that in this era of easy access to information, we have collectively lost knowledge about the natural world and have also lost a sense of the sacredness of our land and what it produces--that we feel neither properly thankful for nor nurturing of the interconnected systems that sustain us.

In the left-hand printer drawer, there is a visual representation of the soil history of the land where I live. It is made from the soil in my yard, collected at various depths. As we enter ever greater depths to retrieve the core samples, we glimpse a tangible historical record. In addition to the display of these samples, there are soil "wafers", arranged as strata of unleavened bread.

The central panel is a catalogue of the seeds that grow in my yard. These seeds have been collected throughout the growing season. I did not discriminate between "good" seeds and "bad". This seed collection reflects the biodiversity of plant life in my yard. It also represents the bio-invasion of plants that has plagued the earth's ecosystems. The seeds represent bounty and responsibility. They represent the health and the illness of our environment. I have placed the seeds in packets and have installed them over photos, colour fields, and text. The text comes from articles that deal with the notion of seed ownership. These seeds "spill" out of the drawer and mix together on the cabinet below, and possibly on the floor.

On the right-hand side of the altarpiece, there is a printer drawer filled with water. This water consists of  the precipitation that I collected daily from my property for one year. Each day at the same time for one year, I measured and collected whatever rain or snow had fallen onto my land. This is not water from a hose. This is not water as a commodity. This is water as gift. I display the water in 365 communion glasses. Each glass that contains water is shrink wrapped. One printer drawer cannot hold 365 vessels of water. These vessels are arranged on the cabinet below, cascading from the printer drawer onto the surface of the cabinet, within its drawers, and onto the floor.