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 | The Recall(ed) Quilt
Performance and installation
Porcelain, flannel, batting, organza, thread
2 1/2” x 1 1/2” x 1” each in 4" flannel squares
2009 - 2010 and ongoing
Continuing with the work I did in Recall(ed), the installation/performance will involve quilting a hand-made porcelain piece between 4" squares and a sheer fabric "backing"-in a sense, laying to rest those who have lost their lives in the Iraq war. The remaining porcelain pieces are piled in a 'nest' next to the rocking chair I work in, with the quilt trailing across my lap and off onto the floor.
|  | The Recall(ed) Quilt
Performance detail
2010 |  | The Recall(ed) Quilt
Prototype detail
|  | The Recall(ed) Quilt
Prototype detail
|  | Recall(ed)
Process detail
Small and bone-like, referencing vertebrae or small figures, the porcelain pieces are piled in a nest of blankets, quilts, and afghans. The piece references loss, remembrance, and comfort, connecting the impact of the Iraq war on individuals overseas and here on the 'home front'. |  | Recall(ed)
(4079 as of 5-21-08)
Porcelain, quilts, blankets, afghans
2 1/2” x 1 1/2” x 1” each
6' x 3' x 2 ½' total
2007 - 2008
I consider the meaning and etymology of words and phrases in my work. Some of the definitions of recall include: to bring back from memory, to summon to return, to bring (one’s thoughts or attention) back to matters previously considered, to revoke or withdraw, and to revive.
|  | Recall(ed)
detail
Recall(ed) began with the Iraq war. I have been thinking about how many people have lost their lives and the ramifications of those losses. Unable to find confirmed numbers of civilian deaths, I chose to use only US troop casualties (4079 as of 5-21-08.) For each death, I made a hand-squeezed porcelain piece, holding the thought of each individual in the palm of my hand. |  | Swallow(ed)
Installation detail
Porcelain, saltwater, reclaimed wood
20’ diameter
2006 |  | Swallow(ed)
detail
Filled with saltwater, representing the ocean, as well as tears, each palm-sized porcelain bowl in Swallow(ed) pays tribute to the individuals affected by recent tragedies, beginning with 2004's tsunami in Southeast Asia, and continuing with the hurricanes in the Gulf Coast.
|  | Bridge
Paper cutouts
18" x 36"
2008
|  | Aura
Installation view
Porcelain crucibles, other
6' x 8' x 2"
2009 |  | Aura
Detail, in the dark
2009 |  | Feed Me
Porcelain
Approx. 4” x 1 ½” diameter each, overall variable
2007
|  | Alterations (Catch 22)
Book, correction tape, 7 1/2” x 9 1/2” x 2 1/2”
2007
At the beginning of Joseph Heller’s satire, we find the main character, Yossarian, in the hospital faking an illness so he doesn’t have to risk his life flying more missions. He isn’t crazy because he doesn’t want to die, so is forced to continue flying. If he was crazy, he wouldn’t mind flying more missions, and would therefore be unfit for service—he’s stuck in a Catch-22.
While he’s in the hospital, Yossarian is required to censor letters from the troops to their loved ones back home. He gets bored and starts playing- sometimes crossing out everything but Love, John, or taking out all the participles or pronouns.
In honor of Heller and Yossarian, I decided to censor Catch-22, making it my own.
|  | Alterations (Catch 22)
Detail
The text now reads:
Ripe spring turned thoughts to nutritious crumbs, feeding an uncooperative craving good faith.
|  | (De)fence
Performance detail
Clay, gravel, twine, 7 work shirts, 6’ x 5’ x 4’
2004
|  | (De)fence
Installation view & performance remnant
In (de)fence, I tore down a wall of my own making. I tore down my fence. Wrapping each stone in a piece of my shirt, I gave myself away.
|  | Field
Installation view and performance remnant
Clay (25 lbs. each), 16’ diameter
2003
The Field performance continued the extension of self. Through the repetitive gesture and obsessive task of throwing large blocks of clay, I outlined the circumference of the area under my influence. |  | Yellow Pot
from Remembering Grandma series
Installation view
Framed digital photograph, 10” x 8”
Allegheny Cemetery Mausoleum, Pittsburgh, PA
2003 |  | Yellow Pot
from Remembering Grandma series
Detail
I was very close to my grandmother. After her funeral, much was passed on to me. Her furnishings inhabited my house. Their familiarity was comforting. By taking notice of those ordinary objects (a dresser, a stew pot, a robe, a wastebasket, a brooch, a bedspread, and a towel) I hoped to more fully remember her, and to deepen my understanding of the relationships between our belongings and our memories, between the physical and the psychological. |  | “…and so I sipped my tears slowly…”
Installation view
Porcelain, salt residue, cloth , 5’ x 2’ x 4’
2006 |  | “…and so I sipped my tears slowly…”
Detail |  | Breath(e)
Installation view
957 paper lunch bags, breath, 6’ x 8’ x 4’
2001
I attempted to contain my exhalations in paper lunch bags in order to gauge the extension of myself into an enclosed area. This mundane and futile action became methodical, obsessive, and meditative through its repetitiveness. It spoke simultaneously of extension and containment. Within the repetitiveness, within the confinement, I am not contained. |  | Holding My Breath
1,000 Paper lunch sacks, breath
8' x 6' x variable
2009 |  | Shadows
Photographic series and short story, 32” x 28”
2005
By the way his gaze fell upon me I could tell he was holding something back. I couldn’t look at him directly. I just stared at his shoes, scuffed and brown, old and dirty compared to the neat cuffs at the bottom of his trousers.
It’s funny how still some moments can be—that moment lasted all day, weeks even. Although I didn’t look at his face, I could feel his expression weighing me down, pushing me into the corner, the warm nap of the carpet quickly turning to daggers in the sweating silence.
My palms burned, pressed against my face, holding taught the tightrope that was my voice. I would not speak first, but held my breath in an effort to contain myself and not disintegrate into the thickening air.
I dove into the darkness behind my eyes, becoming the shadow of myself. The deep velvet of it a surprise. I lounged there trying to get comfortable, but his presence pressed in on me. And so, still, silent, I receded from the darkness.
His shadow passed through mine as I stared at the place his shoes had been, and he was gone without a word one way or another. And I was left holding my breath in the twilight of that room.
|  | (In)visible
Video still
Looped 2 minute video
2003
(In)visible blurred the present and the absent, the physical and the psychological. I pulled a cover over myself in an effort to blend in with the wall. |  | Points of Departure: Imaginary Stretch
Installation view
Plumb bobs, nylon line, 15’ x 15’ x 1”
2003
|  | Points of Departure: Imaginary Stretch
Detail
Imaginary Stretch stretched my measurements, imagining my wingspan at two and a half times its normal range. Conceptually, using plumb bobs was important due to their reference to carpentry and construction. They are tools of exacting measurement. Semantically, plumb walls are also ‘true’. The work explored the dichotomy between the physical and perceived space we encompass and the boundaries of presence, absence, and how our limitations shift. |  | Sphere of Influence
Installation view/video still
Video triptych
2003
In Sphere of Influence, I spanned the wall, waving my arms up and down, snow angel fashion, as if to encompass as much as I could. I hopped as high as I could reach hoping to gain “territory” and tried to increase my normal range by doing the splits while in a headstand. Absurd? Maybe. But, through these simple motions, I gain experience of my physical limitations and the possibility that my physical and psychological ranges are disparate.
|  | Swing
from Highchair Pilot photographic series and artist’s book
Photograph, 6” x 4”
2002
Highchair Pilot
I flew.
The room flung past, blurred
beyond recognition,
an instant reaction to gravity.
I don’t remember hitting the floor,
my chin gashed, bashed
on the avocado linoleum.
I don’t remember how much it hurt,
the doctor promising it wouldn’t,
as I winced into the blinding lights
of the emergency room.
I don’t remember the slow ride home
or the days that followed—
they’ve streaked into the present.
But, I touch my chin, still numb
after twenty-seven years, and recall
the breath-taking vertigo of when
I flew.
-Naomi J. Falk |  | Twice My Size (pajamas)
Cloud fabric, slippers, 10’6” x 3’
2002 |  | Twice My Size (pajamas)
Detail
What would it be like to be twice my size—size large instead of small, ten foot six instead of five foot three? I doubled every measurement for the pajamas, making the arms, legs and waist twice as wide or long as they were normally. |  | Two Feet of Personal Space
Sisal, jute rope
2003 |  | Ripple
Installation view
Watercolor crayon on paper, 8” x 8” each
Edna St. Vincent Millay Colony, Austerlitz, NY
2005
|  | Ripple
Detail |  | Tendencies
One of six from Sunlight Sculpture series
Digital photographs, 10” x 8” each
Schwabisch Hall, Germany
2002
|  | Handpool
Cast bronze
1999 & 2001 |  | Slit
Performance detail
Industrial felt, spandex, 5'3" x 2'6" x 1'6"
1997-8
|  | Cargobox
Installation view
Plytwood, steel, foam , 1’5” x 3’ x 3’5” approx.
1999 |  | Hung Out to Dry
Installation view, Park blocks, Portland, OR.
Dryer sheets, clothesline, clothes pins
5'3" x 15' x 1/8"
1998
Continuing to consider presence and how far we extend beyond ourselves- the smell of the dryer sheets drifted for blocks. You could smell them before you realized where it was coming from. So, in a way, my presence filled a huge area. |
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