hopeless radiance

A Thesis Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Fine Arts in the Department of Ceramics at the Rhode Island School of Design.

By
Dawn Gwedoline Holder
Introduction: Origins of the Intimate Miniature

It started in the middle, as most things do, a center that slowly radiates outward. I began as a maker of vessels, pursuing form on the wheel, finding pleasure in the creation of useful objects. Although my work no longer focuses on functionality or the use of the wheel as a tool, my origins as potter have informed many concerns central to my work, such as the exploration of interior and exterior space (both physically and metaphorically), and especially my interest in the domestic realm and all its trappings.

As a potter, cups and mugs were among my favorite forms to fashion. Cups are the most intimate of vessels. They are cradled in the hands and caressed by the lips. One intrinsic characteristic of cups is that they can only be sipped from by one mouth at a time. My attraction to this profound sense of intimacy has drawn me to the making of miniature objects. Working on a diminutive scale allows for an intimate and solitary encounter with the viewer. Although works such as Play House are not miniature when compared with the average sculpture or human body, the space created within can be seen as a miniature in comparison to the actual square footage of the typical suburban home.

The use of miniature conveys a sense of both preciousness and empowerment. The attention to detail on small objects implies a sense of time, patience, and care. Small things are always in danger of disappearing or being lost, yet they are easy to control and manipulate. Additionally, the toy-like quality of small objects immediately transports us to youthful times of wandering, imagining, and collecting pocketfuls of precious, little things.

The realm of the miniature provides a world where the both the maker and the viewer have the gift of omniscience and omnipresence. As the scale shifts, the relationship between our bodies and the objects brings us into the realm of the gigantic. Momentarily, we allow ourselves to give in to the illusion of possessing power and control over these tiny, imaginary worlds.

I am drawn to porcelain because of its purity and vulnerability, these qualities being perfectly analogous to the content of my work. In using this material I am acknowledging the fragile nature of both my subject matter and its artistic construct (by this I mean an idea containing various conceptual elements, typically one considered to be subjective and not based on empirical evidence).

I am attracted to the pure whiteness that porcelain provides. I often choose to leave much of my work unglazed and uncolored to underscore its existence as fictive, fantastic, or living in the realm of memory and imagination rather than reality. Whiteness provides a blank slate unto which the viewer may project his or her own details. Whiteness invites flights of fancy and daydreaming by transporting us into the realm of the imagined. With the blank in the mind, one is able to connect with the remembrances of physicality and experience, rather than their actuality. Color is used sparingly but intensely, and with particular emotive connotations in mind. The use of pearlescent metallic paint throughout the work (in both Play House and Pinnacles 1, 2, and 3) is meant to evoke a sense of both shimmering beauty and false preciousness/ pretenses.

My studio practice consists of an active interplay between image and object, space and time. Ideas are developed gradually, often undergoing a process of modification, revision, and recontextualization until their final form is discovered. The process of gradual discovery is essential to my work, as it allows me to generate intuitive responses to the imagery and subject matter I am exploring. The interaction between sculptural object and two-dimensional image gives me the opportunity to explore the imagery from a distanced and slightly removed perspective.

Presenting my ideas through photography and video serves both to disorient the viewer in terms of scale and to give a sense of authenticity to objects, which have been crafted for the explicit purpose of inhabiting the realms of fantasy, memory, and imagination. Additionally, transporting the objects from the realm of the viewer into a two dimensional worlds allows the work to exist purely in the mind, creating an experience removed from the realm of tactility and shared space. In this case, the viewer cannot readily use his or her body as a subconscious tool for measuring scale.

The house appears in my work as an object to be desired and coveted; a container of memories, emotions, and experiences; a symbol of self, status, excess. The flawlessly manicured façade erected around the typical suburban house often belies the blemished emotional interior. We exist within the bounds of a world that has been delineated by many sets of boundaries: physical proximity and distance, the idea of convenience so intrinsic to our culture, the constraints of time, of economics, of the automobile, of fear, of social conventions, the boundaries of our daily sphere, of our houses, our bedrooms, of our bodies.

In building Play House, I have rendered the archetypal structure of the American dream into a fantastic shrine, a beautiful but unnerving space that encapsulates the longing and anxiety of the modern female. The sculpture takes the simplest form of the house, as rendered by the imagination of a child: a pitched roof, a window, and a door. Although simple in form, the house is rather lavish in its décor and use of materials. The outside walls and roof of the house are adorned with thick, rainbow-shaped swirls of white buttercream icing. The edges of the roof are decorated with flowers and ruffles, piped on with pale pink buttercream icing. The inner walls glow a pale pink and are awash with opalescent glitter. The window and door are encased in molding made from thick, swirls of pearlescent porcelain. The entire confection is placed on a large padded, pedestal swathed in shimmering pink satin, as if on a giant pillow.

The sugary sweetness of the frosting is at once poignant and overwhelming. The smell permeates its surroundings so completely that the work is perceived, for many viewers, first through the olfactory sense (engendering a subtle, subconscious hunger for sweets, the desire for cupcakes or cookies) and is afterwards encountered visually. In fact, the desire to sample the icing has proved so overwhelming that at least several viewers have reached out a finger to swipe a little taste. The association for many is one of both comfort (everyone knows how quickly the sugary reward can momentarily tame the wayward, whining child) and celebration (the infinite variations of birthday and wedding confections). The smell of frosting evokes the joy of childhood, excessive piles of cakes and cookies tempting the hungry shopper in the supermarket bakery, and the enduring tradition of the wife/mother/grandmother who expresses caring and affection for her family through the preparation of sweets.

White sugar is intrinsically linked with the idea of desire and want; it is at once entirely unnecessary, the hallmark of American culture (in the prevalence of soda and junk food); and, of course, unmistakably delicious. As with many things delicious, overindulgence can quickly bring one into a state of revulsion and nausea, even danger (as in the tantalizingly tasty witch’s house). This dual relationship with sugar forms an appropriate analogue to the insatiable desire for material possessions and longing for an ever-larger house in which to shelter them.

The dream must be beautiful to catch the eye. Even though the adult knows that nothing is more “valuable” than the precious gleam cavalierly emitted from the facet of a diamond, the shimmering frost of glitter excites the inner child, keening back to the simple notion that every sparkling thing is precious and desirable…. even birds understand this. Why else do they bring bits of metal and shiny foil gum wrappers to tuck into their nests? When diamonds are not attainable, we appreciate the shine of whatever sparkle we are capable of attaining to decorate and elevate our tired surroundings. Glitter, sprinkled to excess, also speaks of rainy-day craft projects; the cheap allure of overdone makeup and over-sexed girls; not to mention, the impossibility of ridding yourself of it completely, once those flecks have graced your face and hair.

The lure of the fairy tale is the lure of passivity and the renunciation of choice. Like the slave who happily submits to a dominatrix, the fairytale princess lacks the independence to achieve self-fulfillment, because she is intimately bound by fate. As an audience, we surrender to escapism, watching the princess as she is propelled along through adversity and hardship to the ultimate happy ending. We allow ourselves momentarily to bask in the glow of the happy ending as if it were our own fate as well. Similarly, we are taught that anyone is capable of achieving their own happy ending, the American Dream, through hard work and perseverance.

My video Suburban Allegory explores the idea of the suburban house (and the life it represents) as a fetishistic object. I am especially interested in exploring the space of the lonely princess. How does she abate her boredom? What are her playthings, and how do these speak to her desires/ fantasies? I imagine the princess trapped within a tiny room. She is surrounded by miniature houses, tiny models of suburban dream homes, which speak to her desire for the decadent comfort of suburbs.

There are no windows in the princess’s tiny room, but she dreams of the outside world. Perhaps, she even escapes one day. As she searches, she leaves a trail of houses behind her to mark her path. She finds picturesque houses, construction, emptiness, wind, the loneliness of an enormous lawn, the edge of the world, and she buries her dreams in the woods of longing. There is a sense of loss and confusion, as she cannot find her dream home, her prince, her family, or anyone. She remains alone in her tower, waiting under the auspices of the hourglass, with no one to admire her black hair or pearls, fading beauty.

These themes and these questions create an allegory of the modern woman’s dilemma. The freedom to choose everything, a career, family, location, an education, is as powerful as it is overwhelming. I question how much happiness attaining the material trappings of the American Dream actually brings. The intoxicating desire for success and independence clash with the need to be vulnerable occasionally, to be taken care of and sheltered. The quest for financial independence and a successful career often requires sacrificing close relationships with friends and family. Even as women continue to gain recognition and equality in the workplace, images in the media continue to reinforce the ideas that women should be thin, attractive, and sexy, while still retaining a sense of modesty. Achieving success and happiness requires a deft navigation through these conflicting forces. The princess is caught in an anxious rift between longing for the simplicity of the past and seeking freedom of the present.

(stills from Suburban Allegory)

The video is ensconced in pearlescent porcelain curtains, frozen in the form of the proscenium arch. The curtains hint that there is something to be shown, something that can be drawn to hide. Here again appears the notion of the tableau, a specific sort of frame, a stage set for action to unfurl, a reminder that audience and the action/inhabitant/actor are in separate worlds. The lonely world cannot entirely be entered or shared. Yet, in the case of the daring viewer who chooses to cross the threshold, he/she is able to create and unfold his/her own set of actions upon the stage. All the props are ready and present: the houses scattered in the carpet, the hourglass hanging on the wall, the gloves slung upon on the tiny shelf.

The iconic picture window found in so many suburban homes functions not only to let in light and frame the surrounding landscape, it also frames the tableau of intimate life and its accoutrements for the wandering eyes of the curious neighbor or passerby. Because the video is tucked away on the inside, the viewer must crouch down to peer through the window or the door. In this way, the viewer is invited to engage in the enticing action of peeping into windows of others. The crouching viewer becomes part of the work as his/her actions serve both to entice the curiosity of others, and to underscore the emotional separation inherent in the fantasy world.

Throughout the work, various layers of frames and pedestals serve to create a sense of metaphorical elevation, physical separation, and picturesque preciousness. The satin pillow pedestal of the house evokes both a sensuously soft bed and the lining of a jewelry box. Inside the Play House, elaborate corner sconces profile various model houses. On the far wall, a particularly choice model house rests upon a tiny, delicate pink chaise lounge, which then sits upon a highly decorative wall sconce. Yet again, the Pinnacle trio uses this double nesting of platforms: the tall and craggy golden pinnacles, topped by perfect green lawns, upon which sit tiny porcelain houses sinking deeply into elegantly sculpted porcelain pillows. The video itself operates on many layers of remove: the use of the golden frame to house the princess figure; the screen housed behind luscious, immobile curtains; and finally, the deep and curvaceous molding around the window and door which frames the entire set.

Conquering the frontier has always been an intrinsic part of the American mentality. As the vastness of our country spread out on the horizon, we long lived with the idea of an everlasting supply of parcels of land, a tract for each family, a yard, a house, separation, privacy, freedom, the triumph of the individual. Who even has time to notice or even care about the existence of these confines? Maybe they are not confining at all, maybe they are comforting and even helpful.

What is left of the frontier? What about the element of surprise, and the spirit of adventure and exploration that was once so intrinsic to this land of ours? We conquered the frontier, a little bit for adventure, but mostly so we close ourselves off in our own tiny worlds. The necessity for space and privacy is very different in the United States than it is in other countries. The trio of Pinnacles pays homage to the opportunities we miss by hiding within our preciously conceived suburban fortifications.

The pinnacle sculptures also serve to place the Play House in a fantastically impossible geographic location. They shift the scale of the work entirely, providing a far-removed aerial view, in hope that the viewer could imagine himself/herself housed comfortably, perched high on a golden aerie, surrounded by a manicured lawn of green.

Intermingled with our memory, bound inextricable in mind, blossoms the world of fantasy and dream. So seamlessly, so effortless does nostalgia shift to daydreaming we hardly notice the divergence. What does a child dream of? Children try out the roles we have shown them; they practice grown-up life playing house. What does the adult dream of? The relief and innocence of childhood ignorance, perhaps, and all of the things not yet been obtained. As the child slips into adulthood, do the dreams of youth become precious or laughable? As adults, can we honestly admit how quickly the innocence of childhood dissolves?

Fantasy gives us the means both to escape reality and the motivation to move forward; it provides respite and hope. Fantasy offers form to our conscious and unconscious desires. The act of noticing gives us the opportunity to interface with the existing moment, heightening our awareness and sense of presence. Shifting between states of attentiveness and imagination provides the opportunity either to acknowledge the rift between the inner and outer worlds, or to ignore it completely.

These different states of being are like a möbius strip, a one-sided loop that twists back upon itself. In my work I seek to unfurl the connections between childhood memory and adult fantasy; the emergence of sexuality and the loss of innocence; longing and owning; the rift between past and present; dream and reality; comfort and discomfort. I offer a state of confusion about what is real and what is imagined, what is large and what is small, what is child and what is adult. I hope to engage the viewer by providing objects to notice, imagined spaces in which to fantasize, and narrative images into which the viewer may tentatively step.