Art making and artistic thinking enable objects and materials to speak directly to us.  My sculptural practice creates ways to explore modern humankind’s history with the material world.  Inspiration comes from city artifacts, machine shop manufacturing, and the cherished museum to make artworks that serve as transponder between sensible object, receptive viewer, and their shared environments.  Art and anthropology intersect in the urban landscape to discover that these non-living objects have a story to tell and human experience is the story teller.  

I use techniques like object hacking, topographical installations, artifact display, and spontaneous happenings to discover that we exist in this world as part of this collaborative, communicative partnership.  Why does bronze suggest statues of dictators and aluminum remind us of soda cans and airplanes? Meanings aren’t always clear from the beginning….but experimenting with/through materials decodes humankind’s object-centric nature and brings a pursuant clarity to my practice.  Reverse engineering becomes an inversion of life and the phenomena of experience. My artwork rejects the abstract, embracing the poetics of real life found in the everyday and uses it as a sculptural material.  The distance between art and life is shortened when viewers activate the artwork by relating it to life outside the gallery, embracing the human/object connection they are a part of.

Whether through functional use, material subversion, object modification/alteration, or contextual exchanges between objects and environment, I try to loosen the definition of art making and always move the viewer towards an active participation in the material world.  No longer is it solely about carving stone, modeling clay, or pouring bronze.  Sculpture is the ability to look at your surroundings and interpret it through its composite reality.  Its prehistoric.  Its about living externally and always being curious.

Touching things, flipping them over, putting them in my mouth, bending and breaking them, drilling, soldering, cutting, taking them apart, googling for specific knick knacks, and eavesdropping into experts’ conversations are all ways to understand the interdisciplinarity of daily life.  I spend as much time out in the world as I do in the studio because for me, exploring my surroundings with a skateboard, or conducting “site visits” to previously unfamiliar locations are forms of epistemological research.  My time outside of the art world—as machinist, art handler, employee, and neighbor—is as valuable as time spent making art.