To See Place: Part 1 

Performance video, 6:21

This dock was constructed to respond to body weight. In engaging with the object, participants are required to negotiate with one another and the object, brought into an intimate relationship with one another and their environment.

This performance video gives us access to their experience through two opposed perspectives: the birds-eye view (drone or crane photography) as the language of infrastructure, a tool for us to step outside of a singular perspective to comprehend the greater whole; in unison with the first-person camera (go-pro), as the essence of a singular image, a personal and intimate look at an environment. These perspectives are held adjacent to one another, separate and together, giving us access to understanding the whole.

To See Place: Part 2

Plaster, monitors, reflective glass, 3 channel audio
15’’x 13’’ x 42’’

Grounded in Culver

Screen, 2x4’s, lenses, Monteray oak tree, birdfeeder
28’ x 18’ x 8’

This installation was created for an abandoned lot in East Austin that was recently bought by a gallery space. The work responds to the past, present, and future use of the site. In viewing the site through the work, the viewer is asked to consider more than what they are looking at, to reflect on the larger framework presented as they see through it.

The narrative below describes a story from origonal site and its translation into the final work:

The only reason his tent was visible was because it was winter; everything was raw then, exposed. He told me a story about how he came to live there. He said a lot of things, in broken sentences. I was listening with a lens: I was interested in the lot, in its relationship to something about the wild, about ownership, and the gentrification of East Austin. So I mostly heard one story -- it was a story about birds. He told me that before this he lived for years in Zilker Park, as far away as he could and still walk out for beer. He said he liked it back there because it was just him alone, and the birds. He told me one day he got thrown out -- the cops came and dragged him out of his home. He swore it was the birdwatchers. He repeated this part three times. The only reason the cops knew he was there was because of the birdwatchers; they were the only ones ever back there and he didn’t fit their view, so they got rid of him.

Working from this story, I built an installation for the gallery’s lot, looking to animate something of the tension in his words. I was interested in the shared intention of the two opposing parties, both seeking nature as a sanctuary, a space isolated from others. In my work I am interested in the definition of the word “nature” and the implications of its articulation; in his story, the birdwatchers restrict natural to mean a kind of ecological sanctuary, one that has no room for another human body; in this reduction there is an act of violence. The architectural installation, built from screen and lenses, creates an experience where the viewer is at once the watcher and the watched. The circular motion through the work curates a physical and visual restriction, one that does not lead to a culminating moment, but instead acts as a series of focused and obscured viewpoints. This narrative through the space encourages us to consider more than what we are looking at, to reflect on the larger framework presented as we see through it. The work asks us to examine how our own biases shape this process, succeeding and falling short of genuine seeing.

On Looking

4’ x 6’ inkjet print
Two cedar waxwings were found dead outside my studio. In an effort to understand them I dissected them fully, separating and labeling each and every part of the bird. The process is recorded here in photograph; the birds organized and laid out alphabetically. The metric of organization applied separates the parts from their system. Knowledge of the birds is gained at the cost of losing the complexity of their function; this effort to understand holds both intimacy and violence.

Common Ground

Used wood, marine foam, anchors
8’ x 8’ x 4’10’’

Bodies of water are typically deemed outside of ownership. As public spaces they serve as rare surviving examples of a commons, a space that is self governed by the surrounding public. In the winter these northern Maine lakes become populated by small make-shift shacks, temporary structures for gathering and fishing.

Common Ground translates the intimacy of these winter huts, focusing us on the affects of this kind of communal space, allowing us to be at once outside and inside, isolated and together. 


Abandoned house, broom, scraper, drywall, white paint, vinyl flooring, incandescent lights

Monson, ME, a post-industry slate town in Piscataquis County, is in the process of transition. The Libra foundation has taken the town on as a project, hoping to revive it by starting an artist residency there. Just in the last year and a half the foundation has bought the majority of the buildings in town, stripped the 1800’s structures down to their bones, and completely remodeled them with readymade home depot products.

In response, as a resident artist there I took on my own renovation project. I found an abandoned house in town that was sinking into the ground, dilapidated and hidden by trees. By cleaning, framing, and filtering the information there, I worked to both delete and maintain the history held in the space. The project stands hidden in town, a critique of the dangers of rapid change.

Video from local Maine news describing the scope of the Libra project in Monson.

Work for Texas

A series of site-responsive installations and interventions that challenge Texas’ culture and policy around the issue of land ownership and resource use. Expanding from this local context, the works define and investigate the human impulse to claim ownership. 

Video, 11:49

2018 Flag erected in fenced-in abandoned lot.
overhead of site 
street view

8x8 foot chainlink fence, earth, hardware cloth 3’ x 1’6’’ x 4’

Inkjet print
40’’ x 60’’
2018 Photographic document of installation in a recently discovered cave at Government State Park. Printed to match actual scale of the space.

Cave Part A
Drop ceiling tiles, steel, 2x4s, drywall, molding, vent, electric heater
8’ x 8’ x 2’

In the center of the work there is a hole that leads to contained space inside. This space is warm, heat radiating from a vent inside. The sensory experience of interacting with the sculpture reflects the vulnerability of engaging with a cave space. The works asks the viewer to trust the structure, contorting their body in order to experience visceral sensation.

Cave Part B
Interactive Cave Model

Video, 2:13


The work is paired with the drop ceiling as they are opposites. One is an direct visual model of the cave while the other simulates the body in the space. The viewer is asked to experience them separately, segmenting a full understanding of the space. Together the works speak to the challenge of fully conveying the visceral experience of interacting with a wild space.