The Tower and the Threshold

Towers echo with the songs of their past inhabitants; shoulders straighten into the walls of a courtyard; arcades meander through pillowed hills and become a body, which becomes a building, which is eroded by the wind and becomes a hill again. 

The work in this series is carried along by an old current; not of water, but of stone—of arches and vaults, capitals and brickwork, entrances and exits. The structures in these images draw from the lexicon of Romanesque sacred architecture—buildings which, in addition to providing a place for worship, served as a compact analogy for passage through the cosmos. The thresholds in these places marked the transition from Earth to Heaven, from the profane to the real, and from death to life. 

In what ways have my building and my body become intertwined? Is the imagination inclined to dream with the same archways and doors of the sacred dwelling place? And although we claim an authorial hand over our architectures, do they not also live in us, reverberate in our memories, and orient us within the world? In these images the threshold, the passage, the wall, and the arch all deviate from their traditional groundplans. Arcades twist, walls unfold, and cryptic interiors glow with a dark mystery. The result is a series of imagined places where the air is thick with time and longing, caught in the stasis of oil paint or breathing softly in moving sand. 

The still images are in two modes: a group of paintings in which the human figure and architecture begin to coalesce, spilling over the landscape; and a second group of paintings and drawings which imagine stone structures embedded in static fields and hills. The beginnings of a brick tower shield piles of material; an undulating arcade hides and reveals the tree line behind it; wood supports hold fractured material together, while ladders access its highest openings.