Category Archives: Uncategorized

Bending the Binary, and Our Perception of History

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Rachel Schmid-James

When Brian Van Camerik began the project Homosocial, a collection of old photographs showing intimacy amongst same sex couples from the past in 2017, it could not have come at a better time. With President Donald Trump beginning his reign of terror on queer people across the country, it seemed very difficult to find hope and joy in queerness. For many young queer people, being different can feel isolating, and due to crises such as the AIDS epidemic leading to fewer older queer people, they have less elders to guide them. With Homosocial, Van Camerik shows that queer love and joy has always been around- even in times of great hardship. As described on the project’s website, “these photographs span decades and all depict same-gendered couples of men, women, and everyone in between displaying intimacy towards one another.” Throughout the series, multiple pairs are seen as described; some with arms around one another, others with hands clasped. However, what stood out to me is that none of the photographs feature the couples kissing. This adds to the power of the pieces. Queer love was forbidden in most societies in the past, and public displays of it could lead to detainment, violence, death, and/or ostracism. Many of these couples no doubt had to hide their love for each other, though that does not make these small moments captured any less romantic. It adds a deep layer of nuance, and calls attention to a hard truth: public romance is treated as a privilege.

Homosocial, Processing Gender Aspirations (2022), Silver gelatin print, paper, ink.

Throughout the run of the Stamp Gallery exhibit What We Do After, the piece Processing Gender Aspirations from Homosocial has always stood out to me. Although small in dimension and seemingly simple in composition, the depth within the artwork and the project itself makes a deep impact. On a background reminiscent of rippling water flecked through with gold, a black and white photograph is centered. The photograph shows a child dressed in a uniform-like outfit complete with Mary Jane shoes. The child’s gender is not obvious, nor is it specified by artist Brian Van Camerik. Two paired sets of zig zagged lines attach the photo to three simple words, creating the phrase “bending the binary.” As explained by Van Camerik in an Instagram post for the piece, 

I use microprocessing technology as a visual metaphor to illustrate how the individuals in these photographs have connected—the same way that microchips are connected on a circuit board… As a non-binary artist, I am presenting someone I wish to emulate. And while aspirational, this piece is also transgressive. Microprocessing technology operates in binary code but somehow the child thrives within this system and defies the gender binary to boot.

 Processing Gender Aspirations is one of the few pieces in the Homosocial project that features only one figure, and one who also does not fit traditional ideas of the gender binary. As Van Camerik explains above, the child in this piece reflects a quiet rebellion, existing in a normal life as a person who “bends the binary.”

More than anything though, this entire series represents something that was as important back then as it is now, that queer people are normal. The poses in the photographs are no different from any photograph you may see of a cisgendered or heterosexual couple, pushing against the idea that queer people are dangerous or deviant. Queer people love and live just like anyone else does, something important to represent especially with all the anti-gay and anti-transgender legislation popping up all over the country. Joy is essential to change, something expressed through the Homosocial collection as well as the current CAPP exhibit at the Stamp Gallery. At the very bottom of the Homosocial website, a dedication can be found, reading “For the individuals who were lost, silenced, or hurt because of whom they loved.” Remembering the faces of those who came before in the struggle for LGBTQ rights and their joy in the face of adversity can help us find our way and begin to build a better life for all people. 

Homosocial’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023.

The clock strikes Infertile:  Gabriela Vainsencher’s Hourglass

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Reshma Jasmin

*Note: this post refers to womanhood and motherhood in a cis-normative manner due to the organ-centric focus of aging*

In the past three months, my father has brought up the topic of marriage, babies, and my biological clock three times—I am a 21-year-old college student. He likened my ova as the fruits of a mango tree: after it reaches its fruit bearing age, the best mangoes are those produced in the first three years. Ironically, I have endometriosis, so the question of fertility is up in the air.

Gabriela Vainsencher’s Hourglass emanates this anxiety, by creating the anatomy of a cervix in the shape of an hourglass, with menstrual blood slipping through the cervix like sand. But Vainsencher’s experience differs from mine, which makes sense as she is 20 years older, an established artist, and a mother. She is also a cis-woman who went through pregnancy and labor for her own biological daughter, and she depicts womanhood and motherhood within the realm of her personal experience. So the impending midnight strike of a biological clock means something entirely different for her than it does for me. 

Gabriela Vainsencher, Mom, 2021. Porcelain. 8 x 12 feet

Most of Vainsencher’s recent work focuses on the experiences of motherhood, notably Mom (2021) (pictured above). She describes the piece as “…a self-portrait inspired by living through the covid-19 pandemic, which started when my daughter was one year old. For over a year I cared for her, worked from home, and couldn’t get to my studio” (sourced from artist’s website). The large porcelain piece depicts a snake-like figure of arms and breasts doing various motherly tasks. The breasts are arguably what makes the biggest impact. Their literal function is to provide milk, and whether mothers use formula or breastmilk, the symbolism still stands: motherhood is allowing your nutrients to be sucked out of you, or in more palatable terms, giving up yourself for your child. While all the arms are occupied with various motherly tasks like cooking, shopping, cleaning, carrying a child, etc., there are just as many  breasts as there are arms, even though breasts only serve one main function in motherhood. Although there is also the long haired head at one end of the figure and the title to distinguish that the figure is a woman, a mother, the abundance of breasts hint at what else society demands of mothers: women who maintain their role as pretty sexual objects.

Mother Figure Series Sculptures (2021-ongoing) Porcelain, stoneware, underglaze, etc.

Vainsencher’s Mother Figure Series Sculptures (pictured above) depicts worried mothers, pregnant bellies, female anatomy, and the looming biological clock. The stretched, protruding bellies and the folds of skin on the backs of each torso show the toll of pregnancy on the body. The sagging breast depicts the loss of conventional beauty and youth that comes with age and motherhood. The key-chain earrings on oversized ears suggests that mothers are always in motion, always thinking about their children’s needs and schedules.

Gabriela Vainsencher, Hourglass, 2023. Porcelain, underglaze, glaze, acrylic

Upon seeing Gabriella Vainsencher’s Hourglass (pictured above), my first thought was, “How is this mounted on the wall?” Granted, I was watching the early stages of its installation in the Stamp Gallery, and the piece is made of porcelain and glaze, so it seemed a bit delicate to be held up the way that it is (on two screws drilled through the porcelain). In my surprise at how securely the piece was mounted, I realized that my assumption about the fragility and “weakness” of the porcelain was similar to the societal perception of women as the “weaker sex.” But the curved lines of the stretchy maternity pants on the conflated pregnant bellies from Vainsencher’s Mother Figure Series Sculptures and the bulges with the same curved lines tell a different story: they resemble striated muscles, signifying the strength written into a mother’s body.

The muscle-like bulges also create the hourglass shape, and lead the eye to the center of the piece, the cervix. The transition from the warm, cozy golden brown of the uterus to the dark dried period blood of the vaginal canal resembles the passage of time and a movement from comfort to discomfort. This gradient coupled with the rock-like shapes in the two halves of the hourglass shape depict the pain of aging; each period brings one closer to menopause, and the hourglass figure of a conventionally beautiful woman is also lost with time. Simply put, in our culture, old women are not pretty. The biological clock is a term coined by men to describe how a woman’s fertility is headed towards the precarious cliff of the age of 30 and later at menopause, but it also describes the anxieties of women where their worth and standing in society hangs in the balance of their beauty and fertility. 

The rock-like forms passing through the hourglass resonate with me, as periods and ovulation involve immense pain due to endometriosis. And, despite not being a mother, nor subscribing entirely to the identity of woman, nor intending to experience pregnancy and have a biological child; the fear of losing fertility and youth translating to the loss of beauty and worth is an anxiety I share in my own experience. With Hourglass, Vainsencher depicts the universal fear of aging, unique to those who identify as women and have female sex organs, as being built into our bodies as a ticking biological clock, a constant reminder of our fears and strength and worth. 

Gabriela Vainsencher’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

For more information on Gabriela Vainsencher visit https://gabrielavainsencher.com/

For more information on What We Do After, and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery

For more information about the Contemporary Art Purchasing Program (CAPP) visit: https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery/contemporary_art_collection

Together: A Blackness of Multitudes

What We Do After from August 28 to September 30, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Trinitee Tatum

There is hardly a passerby that is not entranced by Megan Lewis’ Together. The regal size and bold color palette beckons onlookers to step into the striking world of Lewis’ portrait, where she grapples with her varied emotions and experiences as a Black woman. Viewers are encouraged to discover the multiplicity of Blackness alongside Lewis.

Megan Lewis, Together (2021), Oil and acrylic on canvas.

The painting’s title, Together, speaks to community empowerment through inclusion. The art industry has been historically exclusive in its subject matter and artists. Many artists of color struggle with the industry’s tokenization and exploitation of their image. Through Together, Lewis calls for equal opportunity to create art without subjugation to these hardships. She reclaims her own narrative and image that has historically been defined for her, for Black people. 

Blackness alone is enough to be extraordinary, to be striking. But Lewis does not stop at this in her work. She situates Blackness within the historically white context of portraiture, where subjects are presented in a predictable manner, with robes of satin and velvet. They are noblemen and women, lords and ladies, those whose wealth and power is reflected in their clothing. In Together, Lewis’ subject contrasts this convention in a striking yellow shirt with dynamic red circles and true blue bottoms. The subject, positioned in a typical manner– straight back, outward glaze, delicately folded hand–is anything but ordinary, with the hands painted in bubblegum pink with teal green nails. Lewis’ choice to depict hands in this manner highlights the sitter’s face as the sole literal representation of Blackness. The subject’s face, and more specifically her eyes, draws viewers into her inner being beyond her skin color. If eyes are the window to the soul, then Lewis’ technicolored portrait is the window into hers.

Together demonstrates to the audience that Blackness is not black. It’s pink and orange with a dash of blue and a swipe of red. Her strokes challenge notions that Blackness is monolithic, homogeneous. She draws Blackness out of the shadows of art history and into the light. Her strategic use of colors, including the contrasting orange background with blue leaves that frame the subject, is perhaps an assertion of her knowledge of art and color theory. Orange and blue are complementary colors on the color wheel and enhance each other’s intensity when juxtaposed. Lewis’ use of both acrylic and oil paint speaks to her mastery of both mediums. Artists of color are consistently invalidated and questioned on their knowledge and application of art history, theory, and practice. Through Together, Lewis shuts down any lingering questions about her abilities as an impactful and informative artist. 

Megan Lewis’ work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

Unpacking Climate Anxieties With A Dinosaur

What We Do After from August 28th to September 30th, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Ellen Zhang

Among the various pieces on display in the Gallery’s latest exhibition What We Do After, I find myself especially captivated by Rachel Garber Cole’s Questions for a Dinosaur. This body of work consists of a 9-minute video in which Cole role-plays various personas while asking an unresponsive dinosaur a series of questions. Accompanying this video are 52 digital and silkscreen prints of the artist posed as the dinosaur.

Rachel Garber Cole, Questions for a Dinosaur (2017/2020), 9-minute video.

The reason why What We Do After resonates so deeply with me is the way in which Cole poses her questions in the video. They are short, blunt, and disconnected in a way that frames the questions as a series of inquisitive tangents. It is slightly chaotic and, because of this, extremely relatable. As I grow older, the list of questions in the back of my mind piles on in a similar manner: How do I file taxes? What career path is the best fit for me? Is it time to be fiscally responsible and stop spending money on coffee? How can I advocate for the political issues that I am passionate about? Like Cole’s questions, these internal thoughts have no rhyme or reason. Instead, they stay nestled within my mind and exist in a somewhat arbitrary arrangement, lacking structure and order. 

While there is little flow between each of Cole’s questions, there is a common theme that all of her questions touch on directly or indirectly: mass extinction triggered by climate change. Some of her questions that are presented on the digital prints, such as, “Are we currently living through a mass extinction?”, allude to the increasing occurrences of life-threatening climate disasters. In other words, are these wildfires, droughts, floods, and deterioration of air quality a collective indication of us living through a mass extinction? Other questions like “How powerless am I?” probe the level of control and responsibility an individual has in mitigating the impacts of climate change.

Cole’s use of unorganized questions accurately reflects unspoken fears about climate change. By vocalizing these overwhelming questions in a way similar to how we internally think about them, she encourages the audience to discuss fears that feel too terrifying to bring up openly. 

In the video, Cole is also seen playing different personas as she asks questions to a nonreactive dinosaur. It’s clear why the artist has selected a dinosaur, of all things, to ask; as an extinct species, they are experts in the matter. Additionally, incorporating a silent dinosaur makes the topic of mass extinction a little less frightening. There is a clear dichotomy between the profound nature of Cole’s questions and the funny-looking dinosaur, thus making the topic of extinction and climate change more approachable. Likewise, on the surface, Cole’s different personas – girl scout, housewife, meteorologist, and more – are certainly humorous and captivating. However, the multiplicity of identities represented also reveals how climate change and extinction are shared worries. She breaks down barriers of entry to conversations surrounding climate-induced mass extinction by reassuring individuals that they are not alone in their anxieties. 

Cole’s Questions for a Dinosaur is certainly a new take on expressing the impending doom of climate change through artwork. Rather than using jarring and fear-mongering pictures, she opts to captivate the audience’s attention through humor, without undermining the urgent and dire nature of climate change. The ability to balance the two is what I find so fascinating about Questions for a Dinosaur. Through serious but playfully staged questions, Cole transforms the Gallery into a welcoming space for raw and unfiltered dialogue on climate change. 

Rachel Garber Cole’s work is included in What We Do After at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 28 to September 30, 2023. 

Natural Fragility from Argentina to Greenland and Beyond; Ingrid Weyland’s Topographies of Fragility V as a warning about the impacts of overusing Earth’s resources

Topographies of Fragility V from August 28th to September 30th, 2023, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by James Cho

Mounted on a wall in the latter half of the Gallery facing visitors as they enter the exhibit is Ingrid Weyland’s Topographies of Fragility V archival pigment print. Born from a return trip across the world where she witnessed how unchecked human abuse of the natural world, Fragility V stands as an outcry against humanity’s role in climate destruction. 

Ingrid Weyland, Topographies of Fragility V, 2019. Archival pigment print, edition 6/7.

Akin to many before and after photos, Weyland masterfully bridges the past and present in Fragility V. By layering a scrunched-up copy of the print on top of a flat version, Weyland symbolises the destruction of nature in how the untouched beauty of an Argentinian forest she visited in the past has deteriorated since then. In the same way that Weyland scrunched up the identical print beyond repair, visitors can observe how the damage done to this forest is practically impossible to restore, and ponder what it might have looked like during her initial visit. 

Importantly, Weyland’s message extends beyond Argentina to the rest of the world, where humans both directly and indirectly impact the natural world. Places such as the Amazon rainforest, originally an area of nearly seven million square kilometres, has lost about twenty percent of its forests. Comparatively, that would be like if the US lost a natural environment the size of California and Kentucky put together.  In the image comparison below of satellite captures of the rainforest in 1985 and 2016, the red indicates vegetation and is visibly reduced in the second image. As in the case with the forest in Topographies of Fragility V, the rainforests of the Amazon will likely never grow back, or if they do, it will be with difficulty. Deforestation of the trees disrupts the symbiotic relationship that the trees have with organisms in the soil. Namely, these organisms in the soil or on the roots of the trees provide hard-to-gather nutrients to the trees like nitrogen from the decomposing biomass (since the soil itself is close to infertile) in exchange for a portion of the energy that the trees get from photosynthesis. The loss of the trees leads to the death of this niche set of organisms, meaning that regrowing a rainforest may be near-impossible due to the loss of this previously natural symbiosis. The comparisons may not seem mind-blowing in the before/after images below, but remember that these photographs were taken by satellites that are far above the earth!

Photographs by the ESA (European Space Agency) of the northwestern section of the Amazon Rainforest.

Similarly, Greenland’s ice sheets have been losing 270 billion metric tons of ice every year. Below is a visualisation of that loss of ice by NASA since 2002 alone, which shows how over the course of the life of many college students at UMD today, water levels from this ice loss have increased dramatically. 

By providing us with a visual representation of the dire situation we find ourselves in across the globe, Weyland’s Topography of Fragility V represents what we cannot allow to continue. Because it is not What We Do After we reach the tipping point of deforestation, ice sheet melting, or climate change as a whole, but What We Do Before that matters. Before we lose not only the trees, but also the animals and other wildlife that depend on the environment formed by the trees. Before the rising water levels produced by the melted ice sheets engulf or partly engulf cities like Annapolis, London, Shanghai, Mumbai, Tokyo, and the like underwater by 2050—which doesn’t account for countries that are already facing high floods or are partly underwater already, nor for other natural wonders like the Great Barrier Reef that faces total destruction within our lifetimes. 

An exploration of memory and emotions in the body in Kenneth Hilker’s work

LIMBSHIFT from April 20 to May 19, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Reshma Jasmin

“Hair holds trauma” is a phrase that people often use to justify their mental-breakdown-fueled impulsive haircuts. While this context of the phrase seems to discredit it, the reality is that memories are not just stored in the hippocampus or neocortex. Neuroscientists and psychologists alike will agree that the body keeps track, as seen in muscle memory, behavioral patterns, and trauma-related disorders or dysfunctionalities. But, as time moves on, so do we. It is rare to take a pause in the chaos and/or rigid structure of our lives to reflect on our memories and emotions, which are also physiologically related (the neural networks for memory formation include the limbic system, or the emotion centers of the brain).

Art therapy is one form of treatment in some cases of trauma and mental illnesses, but it serves as a powerful tool for processing and expressing emotions for all people. Not only is the construction of art healing; viewing art can help people connect to their emotions and memories. Kenneth Hilker’s artwork in LIMBSHIFT not only evokes emotional responses, but also questions the relationships between emotions, memory, and the body. 

Kenneth Hilker, “Alterations” (2023), [reclaimed burnt wood, steel, black ink]

In “Alterations,” pictured above, the textured burns and ink on reclaimed wood are reminiscent of scarred or discolored skin. The pseudo-skin wood provokes an awareness of the feeling of being in one’s own body and the texture of their own skin. The presence of imperfections and scars lead the viewer to consider their own body for its current or past wounds, how they healed, and how their bodily encounter with injury and healing affected their experience.

Another image that comes to mind from the highlights and shadows in the pattern of the wood is a blurred crowd of people where the ends of one being are indistinguishable from the edges of another. The burns, however, disrupt this otherwise peaceful image. The steel border adds an element of violent confinement and claustrophobia to the mix, resulting in a visceral feeling of being trapped in a crowd or in one’s own body.

Kenneth Hilker, “What One Should Know” (2023), [repurposed burnt wood, acrylic]

“What One Should Know” appears like lungs expanding in an inhale, or like hips or shoulders as legs or arms spread out. This piece reminds one to breathe, to be cognizant of the movement of their body, and to breathe again. Unlike the reflective stillness “Alterations” encourages, “What One Should Know” evokes an almost undulating motion, similar to a heartbeat or breathing. 

The title of the piece is ominous, and for an audience of students (as LIMBSHIFT is an exhibit in a college campus building), anxiety inducing. But in the context of meditative breathing, the title fits the calming nature of the piece. “What One Should Know” is a gentle reminder that what is ultimately important is to breathe. Then one can take note of what is happening in their body that informs their experiences and memories. 

Kenneth Hilker’s work is included in LIMBSHIFT at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 20 to May 19, 2023. For more information on LIMBSHIFT and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/articles/stamp_gallery_presents_limbshift.

Climate Ponchos: The Human-Environment Binary

UNFOLD from January 30 to April 1, 2023 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by James Cho

Draped over hangers suspended from the Stamp Gallery’s ceiling, Hoesy Corona’s Climate Ponchos display multiple scenes of different biomes across the Earth. Made from digital and hand-cut collages on leatherette, vinyl, and silk jersey fabric, the collective works in the series Climate Ponchos explores the relationships between humans and their environments—specifically, how our presence often affects ecosystems within them, calling for humans to act as stewards of our environment instead of our current path that claims ownership of the world we live in. Corona describes the figures depicted on the ponchos as “the archetypal ‘traveler,’ [with] the subjects portrayed while in unilateral transition, wearing backpacks and hats, carrying suitcases and holding children.” These travelers and the surrounding biomes—whether it be plains, mountains, or fields—serve to collectively display immigration instigated by the degradation of nature, emphasizing how climate change affects both nature and humans alike, giving us all the more reason to help prevent global warming and work with nature instead of against it. On the other side of the ponchos, the figures reappear as anonymous blue and orange silhouettes, representations of a collective of immigrants from around the world, creating a sense of wonder as they traverse the diverse multicolored foliage around them and march towards a new home. 

Gardens by the Bay, A Unique Experience (OCBC Skyway, SuperTree Grove), 2022

In my own experience growing up as an immigrant across different countries, I can relate to Corona’s message, especially from living in Singapore, a country that wants to become a “City in Nature” by 2030 as part of their Singapore Green plan. Unlike many modernized cities, Singapore itself is surrounded by natural rainforests often right next to residential areas, and has places like the Botanic Gardens which preserve the island’s natural beauty, and the Gardens by the Bay’s famous Super Tree ecosystems. Acting as their own ecosystems and powered by solar energy, which are also used for music shows at night, these trees are a prime example of the stewardship of nature that Corona is calling for. Through these efforts, alongside Singapore’s diverse population of immigrants from around the world, Corona’s advocacy for greater care toward the land and all of its inhabitants becomes a reality and a guiding principle. Where instead of the multi-colored floral patterns resembling comic book or manga-like anger marks that animated characters sport when angered – used here on top of the plant life, perhaps to symbolize its discontent with humans’ actions – hearts or another symbol take their place, as an indication of the naturalization of the world. Much in the same way that Singapore as a city forms a sense of unity between humans and the tropical ecosphere that coexist on the island. In essence, the Gardens by the Bay represent the first step toward fashioning a human-made world that allows for harmony between human and non-human life. Though like any other city Singapore may not be in perfect symbiosis across the country, Singapore still acts as a near-perfect example of the kind of stewardship and respect for nature that Corona is trying to emphasize, which in turn nurtures human lives as well. 

Swan Lake at Singapore Botanic Gardens, 2023

As a collective from all over Asia and the world, citizens in Singapore share in the anonymity of the human subjects in the Climate Ponchos as well. Millions of people from all walks of life live or pass through Singapore. Whether it be because of environmental degradation like in Climate Ponchos, political or social instability, or other reasons, Singapore acts a cultural hub of stability, where immigrants might either stay because of the environmental and cultural harmony that exists there, or use as a place to collect themselves and all that they carry with them from their country of origin. Immigrants like the camouflaged individuals and blue and orange-outlined humans from both sides of the ponchos can rest from carrying their bags, suitcases, and children, and blossom like the camouflaged humans’ flowery hair.  No matter what kind of dress they wear, everyone can express themselves and take a break from moving across different environments. And just like how ponchos themselves physically embody this immigration from different parts of the world, Climate Ponchos serves as a reflection of the experiences of immigration depicted on them, as a reflection of human to environment relationships throughout our lives and from our native environments. 

Singapore not only represents a first step towards human-to-non-human harmony, but also reflects the larger message of human-to-human connections that the current UNFOLD exhibit strives to convey to visitors. As we address issues like climate change, we must also turn our attention to improving LGBTQIA, racial, gender, and ethnic harmony, and other socio-political causes for immigration that hinder our inter-human relationships. 

Lion Heart: More than Just a Name

Unspoken Volumes from August 29th to October 8th, 2022, at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Ellen Zhang

Protruding from the white walls of the Stamp Gallery is Lion Heart – a small yet powerful sculpture. Despite the fact that it is the size of my hand, artist Hae Won Sohn has fit in a plethora of sharp edges, rounded surfaces, and all sorts of visual textures. With a somewhat rounded top and pointed bottom, the contours bear an uncanny resemblance to an actual heart. Aside from its physical similarities, Sohn’s sculpture also resembles the metaphorical meaning of a lion heart. From a denotative perspective, a lion heart is someone who is courageous and risk-taking. In Lion Heart, I see an artist who exhibits these qualities. 

Shifting your position to the right of Lion Heart, you’ll notice two interesting choices Sohn has made in her creative process. First, a rigid edge that cuts through the piece like a shard of glass penetrating the heart. It protrudes out at an angle, obstructing the viewer’s ability to see the entirety of the piece from one position. Through this bold choice, Sohn exemplifies the concept of boundaries – something that forces us to look at things from different angles (almost literally) to find our answers. As a viewer, I find myself viewing her art from all sorts of directions and viewpoints to answer my own questions about the connection between the sculpture and its name. 

Then, shifting your position to the left of Lion Heart, you’ll see a different concept embodied by the sculpture’s forms. From this perspective, the lines are soft and well-blended into flat surfaces. Everything seems blurred, but this is on purpose. Once again, Sohn has cleverly incorporated a way to express the metaphorical themes of her exhibition through the sculpture. The practice of blurriness, as described by the artist herself, is based on the notion that “some ideas and forms seem to become clearer in the blur.” According to Sohn, “This perhaps comes from my understanding of blurriness as more embracing of intrusions and embodying higher potential than what appears to be more defined.” The contrast between the smooth, flat surface and sharp ridges on the right side indicates that Sohn is “embracing intrusions” during her creative process. As a result, her work leaves viewers with an understanding of the nuanced meanings behind her work. When observing Lion Heart from the right, you can see qualities of bravery and confidence through the jagged and well-defined edges. From the left, you can see qualities of calmness and simplicity through the blunted surfaces. The duality in the interpretations of her work emerges because of Sohn’s own ability to embrace intrusions while creating her work. 

Sohn is certainly an artist with a “lion heart.” She welcomes disruptions in her own thinking process, thus enabling her to incorporate bold contrasts in the forms and shapes of her work. Through Unspoken Volumes, Sohn is even able to challenge her viewers to include boundaries and blurriness in their own thinking. She encourages us to surpass boundaries and look at questions from all angles. She also encourages us to embrace intrusions in our own thought processes, sparking internal conversations provoked by gray areas – terms, subjects, and objects that do not conform to a singular category. 

 
Lion Heart is included in Unspoken Volumes at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 29th to October 8th, 2022. For more information on Hae Won Sohn, visit https://haewonsohn.com/. For more information on Unspoken Volumes and related events, visit https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery.

Just a Shirt: of Stripes and Haunting Memories

Distinct Chatter from April 8 to May 20, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Hannah Zozobrado

Along one of the walls of the gallery hangs a black-and-white striped shirt, cut into curved strips that defy the thin, horizontal stripes. The slits on the left and right side of the tee curve symmetrically in opposite directions. The work is Charlotte Richardson-Deppe’s Just a Shirt (2021), which also has multiple colored pins poking into each strip of material, sticking out of the shirt and giving the piece overall dimension. For Richardson-Deppe, the chopped piece of clothing is a reminder of a bitter story.

The story that accompanies Just a Shirt is as follows:

It is the spring of Richardson-Deppe’s senior year of college, and she and her friends are spending a night in a Chicago hotel. They encounter a middle-aged man in the elevator, and he strikes casual conversation with them. They all arrive at their hotel room soon after; the hotel room’s phone begins to ring and Richardson-Deppe’s friend answers the phone – the caller is the man from the elevator, asking if the girl in the black and white shirt is in the room. Richardson-Deppe is the girl in the black and white striped shirt.

The friend lies and hangs up the phone. They are all scared, and they call their male friend – “tall and strong” – to request their room change at the front desk. They finally change their room, but the fear and paranoia does not depart as they ensure that the doors are locked.

While the title is Just a Shirt, the material is more than that to Richardson-Deppe. It is, in fact, just a shirt in its appearance, but this shirt is a reminder of a chilling dilemma that she had to experience as a woman and had to resolve with the help of a man. It is a reminder of the feeling of hopelessness that comes with knowing you are being surveilled by an unknown man with unknown intentions – something that many women experience in a patriarchal society.

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, Just a Shirt, 2021. Shirt, pins, 16” x 18”.

The cuts that curve outward from the shirt’s middle center look as though they take the form of the female reproductive system. This piece is representative of what it means to be a woman in a society where men can be either predatory or heroic – and either way, the woman is to succumb and yield to man, whether that be as their prey or damsel in distress.

The shirt is formed by these symmetric slits in the material, and the rightward and leftward curve of these cuts on the shirt cause a split in the overall work. With this, the tee represents womanhood while also drawing a literal and metaphorical line between the experiences of women and men.

The pins on this work, which are typically used to help in mending rips and tears at cloth, only jab into the material with an ostensible purpose of pinning the strips to the wall. The pins also make the shirt feel unmoving; this is to say that the sentiment of reinforcing society’s rigid social and patriarchal structures are to remain unchanged, or at least difficult to change.

Just a Shirt shows that objects, contrary to their simple appearances, can often take up the space beyond their physical composition. They encompass the memories that evoke strong emotions, like disgust and fear, while also becoming a symbol and motif of lived experiences; this piece, in the context of what had happened as the shirt was worn, is critical commentary on what it is like to be a woman: having to keep an eye out for our well-being and, like Richardson-Deppe, even sleep with one eye open.

Just a Shirt tells a story that many women are able to relate to – no matter the shirt they choose to wear.

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe’s work is included in Distinct Chatter at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 18 – May 20, 2022.

For more information on Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, visit the University of Maryland’s Department of Art.

For more information on Distinct Chatter and related events, visit the Stamp Website.

Entanglements: Queer Intimacies and Charlotte Richardson-Deppe

Distinct Chatter from April 18 to May 20, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Marjorie Justine Antonio


In the last few weeks of the Spring 2022 semester, Stamp Gallery visitors can interact with Richardson-Deppe’s soft sculptures, Two Pants (2022) and Six Pants (2022), by tucking themselves into the supple and seemingly infinite loop of fabric. Tangled together, the visitor and the sculpture become one, blurring the line of where the person begins and the pants sculpture ends. Here, Richardson-Deppe allows the casual gallery visitor to be intimately acquainted with her work, both literally and metaphorically. 


Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, Two Pants Portraits, 2022. Print on archival paper, 18” x 14”. 

Richardson-Deppe’s work dynamically entangles fabric, fiber, and other textiles with themes of queerness, pain, love, loss, rest, desire, entanglement, memorial, and persona.  Richardson-Deppe’s describes her work as “embodied autotheory” and writes that she is “preoccupied with the way that memories, relationships, and emotions are embedded in the cloth and clothing that humans surround ourselves with.” 


Richardson-Deppe self-identifies as a queer feminist textile artist. A few of her exhibiting works speak directly to her identity and relationships, from her embroidered fabric work, Pillowcase (2021), and video performance Bodyknots (2022) with Mary Kate Ford.

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, Pillowcase, 2021. Cloth, thread, 32” x 16”.

Pillowcase (2021) is the first mounted work visitors see when they enter the gallery. The mauve pillow case is punctured by red thread, and its accompanying placard transcribes the embroidered text, reading:

This pillowcase is for my lover’s pillow she will rest her cheek on these words she will sleep here and dream here I made this out of my love for her. This pillowcase will be cherished like my grandmother’s quilt which also lies on this bed, like the shirt I now wear that my aunt sewed for her brother, my father. Only the handmade receives this level of care, of protection, of desire. It is tailored solely for its intended purpose: it is singular and specific and made for Gabby for their extra long pillow that I stole from them each night when we first started dating, for this pillow that now lives on our bed that we share, on Gabby’s side of the bed, where we rest our heads, sleep, dream, whisper, cry, collapse, and sing.

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe

Here, Richardson-Deppe’s work immortalizes the connection between material objects and her significant others. Richardson-Deppe describes how her affection for her lover, Gabby, will be inscribed into the pillowcase, which will be cherished as the other clothing and material objects given to her by her family. The narration takes the reader through an intimate history: from the artists’ queer relationship and the future they dream up together. Through the patient process of embroidering letter by letter, memory and human relationships are tied to this intimate act of care. 

Another example of queer intimacies is Bodyknots (2022), a performance video by Charlotte Richardson-Deppe and dancer Mary Kate Ford. 

The video depicts two femme-presenting people entangled in thick, red soft rope interacting in a field of grass shrouded by thick clouds. This piece highlights the dynamic between two individuals who seemingly are unable to escape each other as they are bounded by a tangible thread. One pulls on the rope and the other attempts to escape until they both tumble to the ground together. In the grass, they both rest after a contentious struggle against each other, and share an affectionate cuddle, before helping each other rise again. 

Stills from: Charlotte Richardson-Deppe and Mary Kate Ford, Bodyknots, 2022. Video, 7 minutes.
Stills from: Charlotte Richardson-Deppe and Mary Kate Ford, Bodyknots, 2022. Video, 7 minutes.

Bodyknots shows the struggles of a relationship, whether that be the reckoning of one’s body and self, or between a loved one or partner. The red rope that connects the two performers together is symbolic of a key theme in the artist’s work:

At its core, my work is about interdependence: I explore the joints and disjoints intrinsic to relying, depending, and caring for oneself and others in the world.”

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe

Charlotte Richardson-Deppe shines in the University of Maryland, 2nd year MFA in Studio Art group exhibition, Distinct Chatter, through her tactile soft sculptures, narrative descriptions of visible mending and darning, and queer intimacy through both thread and video. Her work entices the casual visitor to take a seat, get comfy, and ponder what it means to be comfortable in one’s own body and clothing. 


See more from Charlotte Richardson-Deppe in “Distinct Chatter” — The STAMP Gallery’s current exhibition featuring three 2nd year MFA students, Mercedes, Hosna Shahramipoor, and Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, and is open until May 20, 2022. 

Additionally, Charlotte Richardson-Deppe will be hosting a Visible Mending Workshop on Wednesday, May 11, 6:30-8:30 pm, co-hosted by Studio A and Stamp Gallery. 

For more information, you can visit the STAMP Gallery website at https://stamp.umd.edu/centers/stamp_gallery, and follow her on Instagram @charbroiled.