Sweetly Seductive Suburbia
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.
