Environment

“The Last Sea”, in Water Over the Bridge, the Morean Art Center, May – June 2018
Work with the environment began with the destruction and ensuing poverty caused by Katrina, and two, Jared Diamond and his Easter Island lecture. These two examples of man’s greed and lack of will led me to believe in our world’s ultimate demise; self-absorption to self-destruction.
These events turned me from primarily painting to owning space via installations. The challenge still inspires the work. The two-plus years spent making the “The Last Tree” installation speaks to the manifestation of time, and in itself, rewards the effort.
Scarred and stitched textures, transformed from the silk organza I stain, metaphorically mimic surfaces, whether ours or in nature. Silk organza-clad objects are stuffed with human hair and became a signature for its intrinsic DNA and endearing symbolism, a symbiotic link to hair living beyond death.
A lasting question is one of purity. How do I flay the complexity of complex environmental issues without preaching? I hope the installations with their allusion to the collapse of societies communicate this intricacy.
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches, old pails,
upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files, drawings on paper and panel. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
Graphite on Claybord cradled panel.
Graphite on moleskin paper, 8×5 inches
Graphite, graphite powder, thread, silk organza, canvas, modeling paste, encaustic, rusted chain, a tree stump,
rusted steel frames, rust, tea, human hair, wool, string, thread, cast wax (microcrystalline, paraffin, beeswax) and silver pail
Graphite, graphite powder, thread, silk organza, canvas, modeling paste, encaustic, rusted chain, a tree stump,
rusted steel frames, rust, tea, human hair, wool, string, thread, cast wax (microcrystalline, paraffin, beeswax) and silver pail
Wood boat, paddles and windows, rust/tea-stained silk organza, cheesecloth, thread, yarn, string, rusted chain, old nails,
miniature plastic bottles, tree branches, marble stones, beach sand, Giclee prints of monotypes.
Wood boat, paddles and windows, rust/tea-stained silk organza, cheesecloth, thread, yarn, string, rusted chain, old nails,
miniature plastic bottles, tree branches, marble stones, beach sand, Giclee prints of monotypes.
Silk organza, cheesecloth, chiffon, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, wool, string, thread,194 pails, and a video of tree chopped by ax and chain saw
with an original soundtrack by Lin Culbertson. Image: Installed at Burchfield Penney Art Center Buffalo NY, 2016 -2017
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, Cheesecloth, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, string, and steel pail.
Environment

“The Last Sea”, in Water Over the Bridge, the Morean Art Center, May – June 2018
Work with the environment began with the destruction and ensuing poverty caused by Katrina, and two, Jared Diamond and his Easter Island lecture. These two examples of man’s greed and lack of will led me to believe in our world’s ultimate demise; self-absorption to self-destruction.
These events turned me from primarily painting to owning space via installations. The challenge still inspires the work. The two-plus years spent making the “The Last Tree” installation speaks to the manifestation of time, and in itself, rewards the effort.
Scarred and stitched textures, transformed from the silk organza I stain, metaphorically mimic surfaces, whether ours or in nature. Silk organza-clad objects are stuffed with human hair and became a signature for its intrinsic DNA and endearing symbolism, a symbiotic link to hair living beyond death.
A lasting question is one of purity. How do I flay the complexity of complex environmental issues without preaching? I hope the installations with their allusion to the collapse of societies communicate this intricacy.
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches, old pails,
upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files, drawings on paper and panel. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
Graphite on Claybord cradled panel.
Graphite on moleskin paper, 8×5 inches
Graphite, graphite powder, thread, silk organza, canvas, modeling paste, encaustic, rusted chain, a tree stump,
rusted steel frames, rust, tea, human hair, wool, string, thread, cast wax (microcrystalline, paraffin, beeswax) and silver pail
Graphite, graphite powder, thread, silk organza, canvas, modeling paste, encaustic, rusted chain, a tree stump,
rusted steel frames, rust, tea, human hair, wool, string, thread, cast wax (microcrystalline, paraffin, beeswax) and silver pail
Wood boat, paddles and windows, rust/tea-stained silk organza, cheesecloth, thread, yarn, string, rusted chain, old nails,
miniature plastic bottles, tree branches, marble stones, beach sand, Giclee prints of monotypes.
Wood boat, paddles and windows, rust/tea-stained silk organza, cheesecloth, thread, yarn, string, rusted chain, old nails,
miniature plastic bottles, tree branches, marble stones, beach sand, Giclee prints of monotypes.
Silk organza, cheesecloth, chiffon, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, wool, string, thread,194 pails, and a video of tree chopped by ax and chain saw
with an original soundtrack by Lin Culbertson. Image: Installed at Burchfield Penney Art Center Buffalo NY, 2016 -2017
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, Cheesecloth, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, string, and steel pail.
Luna Window

AC Institute, Chelsea NYC, September – November 2013
In 1940, public housing was constructed on the former site of Luna Park, Cleveland’s answer to Coney Island. The project, Woodhill, was the city’s largest. I moved into it at age fourteen, white, Jewish and isolated.
“Luna Window” is a series that exposes the irony of fantasy amusements descending into a wretched reality. It is a narrative of broken homes, broken dreams and the despair of one within a prison, pressed against the window unable to escape. The ladder is constructed of stained silk organza and stuffed with human hair, which I collect from hair salons. The diversity of hair from anonymous donors, each an individual DNA, place them in an environment not of their making. It is not a far reach these donors suffer a like predicament in reality.
What is frustrating is the lack of solutions. Luna Window communicates this internal frustration. Taken a step further, many of us have a “project” instilled memory – shame, guilt, or remorse – that resurfaces as we present an alternative face to the world.
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, old windows and old door
Rust and tea stained silk organza stuffed with human hair, cheesecloth, leather, various yarns, string and thread, old nails and fabricated old window
Rust and tea stained silk organza stuffed with human hair, cheesecloth, leather, various yarns, string and thread, old nails and fabricated old window
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, and old door.
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, and old door.
Silk Organza, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, string, thread, yarn, nails, and fabricated old window. 120Lx108wx96h
Silk Organza, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, string, thread, yarn, nails, and fabricated old window. 120Lx108wx96h
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, old windows, cast wax, old lintel, old stained pillow, rusted chain and nail
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, and old windows.
Rust and tea stained silk organza, human hair, thread, wool, yarn, string, and fabricated old window.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
“A Measure: Animal No.1” 2013 (left) Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) animal, old stained pillow, rusted chain, old nail, old lintel.
cast wax, old lintel, old stained pillow, rusted chain and nail
Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) dry pigment powder, silver graphite powder, old stained pillow with encaustic, old rusted chain, old square nail, old lintel.
Hung Out

“Hung Out To Dry No.4” 2010, exhibited in Flesh Art at the New Jersey City University Gallery
The series centers on poverty, a first-hand experience. That poverty exists at all within our rich nation is disheartening. That over thirteen percent— nearly forty million people— lives below the poverty level is criminal, ranking our country among the highest among industrialized countries.
“Hung Out” imparts the sad reality that nothing has changed since I was a young Jewish girl living in Woodhill projects in Cleveland. Projects are today — as they were years ago — a microcosm of our poverty, and remain the 800-pound baggage engendering shame and secrecy, defiance and criminality. One is trapped in a project culture that turns inward on itself to survive, propagating the very issues from which one hopes to escape.
I did escape, not withstanding the scars that empower the narratives of the “Hung Out” series. A confusing intermingling of clotheslines, strung from decaying structures and hung with distorted shapes. The scene transmits a powerful semaphoric message with their fabrications of stained silk organza, rust, tea, hair, and animal skins, all exploiting the fragile boundary between what we show of ourselves and what we do not.
Encaustic, rust, tea, paper, hair, silk organza, thread, pins, string, clothes pole, clothes pins, cement base, artificial turf 60”w x 80””h x72”d
Encaustic, rust, tea, paper, hair, silk organza, thread, pins, string, clothes pole, clothes pins, cement base, artificial turf 60”w x 80””h x72”d
Encaustic, rust, tea, paper, hair, silk organza, thread, pins, string, clothes pole, clothes pins, cement base, artificial turf 60”w x 80””h x72”d
The Art Lot Brooklyn New York
The Art Lot Brooklyn New York
The Art Lot Brooklyn New York
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
Beauty Lost and Found

“A Question of Beauty” Exhibited in the “The Feminine Mystique” at the Jersey City Museum, 2007-2008.
Fallout: Beauty Lost and Found” and “A Question of Beauty,” series examine the nature of beauty — or more appropriately, the loss of beauty and its resurrection using my hair loss. The connection of hair and beauty has been in my work for the past two decades but I was initially drawn to its polar opposites — a gorgeous head of hair equated to the wad plugging the bathtub drain. The first works with human hair from salons began in the nineties and in 1998 I began to collect my own daily hair loss due to thyroid disease.
After saving my hair for years and wadding it into jars by year I decided in 2005 to precisely record my daily loss of hair. Each day, I collected it from the shower, my brush and any other place I noticed it. Each day, I manipulated the hair into a doodle, which was then placed in a ziplock bag and dated. To further document the loss of my beauty I began with a series of large graphite drawings each depicting a precise rendering of a month of the daily hair loss doodles. These drawings were titled “Fallout: Beauty Lost and Found – Hair Doodle (dated by month and year)”.
In “A Question of Beauty” the faded memory of my infancy is overlaid with a year of hair loss, recast as doodles; object transcending the ordinary to the eternal. The photograph of me, taken by my father, is truly a lodestone of the beginning of beauty, and hence, marked by time. It is a photograph of which I have no memory. Photography was my father’s passion before he became ill with MS. I was ten. Although I never felt like I knew him well, I helped with his care for another 25 years. Using his image connects us — and, in a strange way, informs me.
The individual hair doodles are stitched onto the photos. Each doodle is dated on the day of loss. The hair doodles, then, are a personal calligraphy of beauty and sexuality. Cultures expose or cover hair for this reason. Hair, as well, throughout history has served as a keepsake, before and after death, secreted into a locket or jewelry or pressed into a Bible or diary. Conversely, hair is repulsive. Consider the tendril on a dinner plate or a mass plugging the shower drain.
Abstracting my bounty of hair on a daily basis and forming a doodle each day became a way of exploring the attraction-repulsion dynamic of unsullied beauty and innocence of youth, and what enduring implies in this context. Surprisingly, an act that began as a documentation of the erosion of beauty — and all that it implies — became something else; a private and secret language tracking across time to ironically amplify the psychological question of self-esteem as age impacts physical beauty.
Hair remains a most powerful medium, both metaphorically and literally. It contains our complete DNA and lives beyond our death. Adrian Piper in her piece “What will become of me,” has willed her hair (collected since 1985) to MoMA for this purpose.
My daily hair Loss from 2006, Giclee prints of photo of me (taken by my father William Reingold) on french rag paper stitched to canvas, 120″wx 40″h
My daily hair loss from 2006 (365 daily doodles). Photo of me taken by my father. Printed giclee (from Blk&wh negative) on Arches hot press watercolor paper.
Graphite. Thread used to hand stitch doodles to paper, and hand stitched to canvas.
My daily hair loss from 2006 (365 daily doodles). Photo of me taken by my father. Printed giclee (from Blk&wh negative) on Arches hot press watercolor paper. Graphite.
Thread used to hand stitch doodles to paper, and hand stitched to canvas.
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
Hair doodles (28 days January 2010), petri dishes, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish, paper, string, graphite, glass shelves. 126 x 5 x 5 inches
Hair doodles (28 days January 2010), petri dishes, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish, paper, string, graphite, glass shelves. 126 x 5 x 5 inches
Hair doodles (28 days January 2010), petri dishes, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish, paper, string, graphite, glass shelves. 126 x 5 x 5 inches
Hair doodles (28 days January 2010), petri dishes, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish, paper, string, graphite, glass shelves. 126 x 5 x 5 inches
Hair doodles (28 days January 2010), petri dishes, beeswax, carnauba wax and damar varnish, paper, string, graphite, glass shelves. 126 x 5 x 5 inches
Skins and Vessels

‘Double Vessel No.3’ 2020
Skins and Vessels
The Chinese Wu Xing system lists wood, fire, earth, metal and water as the five elements. This explains the nature and complexity of all matter in terms of simpler substances. My work touches on all the elements as I seek to translate, disclose, disseminate and observe the current social construct.
I utilize the unexpected in ways to stimulate experimentation, allowing new and multiple meanings. I’m a fan of Joseph Beuys and duplicate his care in selecting raw materials, primarily from the natural world. Through these salvaged and upcycled materials, I developed unique techniques over time. For example: In a search to represent skin, I concocted a bath to stain silk organza and a variety of papers. It includes odd rusted objects and tea combined with salt and an encaustic process. The passage of time… and accumulating objects over time are manipulated, exposing the seen and not seen.
At age fifteen, secrets were my constant companions when family conditions placed me and my four siblings in a tough and unsafe housing project in the east side of Cleveland. My time in the projects influenced thoughts about the less fortunate and the secrets we hide. Then as now layers and hidden meanings in layers have influenced my work. Secrets hide below the surface and inside vessels. Skin is the exterior layer of humanity, a fragile boundary between what exists to the outside and what hides away.
Modeling paste and oil paint on canvas, paper, rust and tea stain on paper and silk organza, encaustic,
graphite on modeling paste on panel, embroidery thread and string.
Modeling paste and oil paint on canvas, paper, rust and tea stain on paper and silk organza, encaustic,
graphite on modeling paste on panel, embroidery thread and string.
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, cotton organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel, plexiglass
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, cotton organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel, plexiglass
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, cheesecloth, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, silk organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, silk organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Rusted steel frame, modeling paste on panel in shadow box frame, paper, rust, tea, string, thread, rice paper, cheesecloth, yarn
Rusted steel frame, modeling paste on panel in shadow box frame, paper, rust, tea, string, thread cotton organza, yarn, rice paper
Rusted steel frame, modeling paste on panel in shadow box frame, paper, rust, tea, string, thread, silk organza, cheesecloth, yarn
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
Encasutic, rust, tea, and thread on paper, rusted steel frame
Encasutic, rust, tea, and thread on paper, rusted steel frame
Encasutic, rust, tea, and thread on paper, rusted steel frame
Encasutic, rust, tea, and thread on paper, rusted steel frame
Rust, tea and encaustic on paper
Rust, tea on paper, rusted steel frame
Rust, tea, string, on paper, rusted steel frame
Rust, tea, string, on paper, rusted steel frame
Encasutic, rust, tea, and thread on paper, rusted steel frame
Rust, tea, string, on paper, rusted steel frame
rust, tea, and encaustic on paper and on canvas stitched into wood frame.
Encaustic, hair, rust, tea, thread, on paper on canvas stitched into wood
Rusted steel frame, Rust, tea, string, thread, and encaustic on paper
Rusted steel frame, Rust, tea and color pencil string, thread, and encaustic on paper
The Last Tree

The Burchfield Penney Art Center, Buffalo NY, September 2016 – February 2017
“What do you imagine the islander was thinking when he chopped down the last tree?” Anthropologist Jared Diamond posed this question while discussing Easter Island as a culture that demolished its resources with no forethought. The Island, once forested and thriving, is now a barren lump with a poverty economy supported by tourism.
The cavalier, and frequently dangerous, attitude of powerful forces toward our environment is the impetus for my new installation — “The Last Tree”— that speaks to societies and their collapse.
Mr. Diamond aptly states:
“By now the meaning of Easter Island for us should be chillingly obvious. Easter Island is Earth writ small. Today, again, a rising population confronts shrinking resources.”
Easter Island dynamically portends our environmental crises. My question is: At one point do we realize our self-destruction?
Hair is a signature in my work for its intrinsic links to DNA and its endearing symbolism. Scarred and stitched textures, transformed from the silk organza I stain, metaphorically mimic surfaces, whether ours or natures. The organza-clad stumps, and roots in these works are stuffed with human hair, a symbiotic link to hair living beyond death, and a collective binder for mortality.
In the installation, the world’s recognized countries, 193 in total, are symbolized in a like number of fabricated stumps encircled in fabric roots. A lone last tree, isolated and stark, rises in the desolate plain of barrenness. The video looms above this graveyard, portending of what will be. Its rhythmic chopping is mesmeric in its meter and enhanced by the sound track created by Lin Culbertson. The Last Tree speaks to a holocaust of sorts, humans destroying a vital part of themselves. Curator Midori Yoshimoto states the work is “a cautionary requiem for humanity.”
Silk organza, cheesecloth, chiffon, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, wool, string, thread,194 pails, and a video of tree chopped by ax and chain saw
with an original soundtrack by Lin Culbertson. Image: Installed at Burchfield Penney Art Center Buffalo NY, 2016 -2017
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, Cheesecloth, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, string, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
Silk organza, Cheesecloth, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, string, and steel pail.
Silk organza, rust, tea, human hair, thread, yarn, and steel pail.
drawing for the installation “The Last Tree”
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
La Longue Durée: A Long Moment

La Longue Durée: A Long Moment, Pinnacle Gallery, Savannah College of Art and Design, January – March 2003
What is living but “a long moment”, inner selves protected by flimsy layers, often pierced, often transparent, yet enduring and even though scarred and marked by time, still beautiful. Beneath the coverings are layers, truths mostly hidden, yet revealed now and then, epiphanies coming in glimmers of light, only to fade and be replaced with new illuminations before all is dark.
This exhibit exists in a semi-darkened room. House bulbs hang within the floor-to-ceiling silk organza cocoon-like enclosures that are rust and tea stained and semi-transparent. Bulbs fade on-and-off at different intervals, permitting glimpses of time before fading. The exhibit continues an ongoing theme of subtly revealing the hidden, then paradoxically reversing that perception.
Savannah College of Art and Design, Savannah GA, January – March 2003
Labyrinth: Current Millennium

“Labyrinth: Current Millennium”, The Studio@620, St. Petersburg, FL, June – July 2006
Labyrinth: Current Millennium” examines the circular journey of lives, “the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.” It probes at what is not evident; secrets suppressed beneath a placid and engaging surface. The installation is an analogy of the uncertainty of humanity, the farce of us.
Within the Labyrinth of silk organza hang multitudes of bags of human hair, obscuring safe passage. Bare bulbs fade on and off in the organza spirals, intermittently illuminating elements.
Actual whispers —gathered from my website — are heard in the vortex. Secrets in the air, guilty, ashamed, some aggressive. In the depths of the Labyrinth, a security camera peers outward through the layers to capture viewers who seek clarity with their own nature.
The use of age-old materials — hair, silk, thread and encaustic — harks back to the ancients and their myths. Contemporary mediums like audio and security camera conflict with history, not unlike our own journeys.
Labyrinth: Current Millennium essentially poses a final question: Is a single thread strong enough to escape the metaphor of a personal Minotaur?
Hair Nest

“Hair Nest ’01” (detail) 2020-2021
“Hair Nest” fuses my themes — beauty and the environment — into one. The series of 10 works incorporate 10 years of my hair loss. Each contains (1) seven-foot high drawing of a tree part; (2) cast or fabricated 3-D branch or actual branch projecting from the drawing or (3) nestling at the base of the drawing in a field of stones and other materials. The fabricated branches are constructed of glass, wax, silk organza or paper. Each work contains (4) a nest constructed from a year of my daily hair loss, either nestling in a branch or fallen to the base.
Scientists record twenty-two benefits of a tree, encompassing air quality, climate change, erosion and food as well as numerous other comforts. Tree markings —scars and burns — and tree-ring dating provide yearly climate history. The markings speak of an existence affected by elements beyond their control — drought, fire, disease and of course, humans. Yet, they endure.
It is hardly a reach to blend tree drawings and limb sculptures with my signature component — human hair. Hair contains our complete DNA and lives beyond death. The perseverance of trees, the permanency of hair. These concepts inspire the work and carry it forward.
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, nest made of my daily hair loss from 2000, cast wax branches, termite riddled stump,
weathered plywood sheets, wood branch with silver leaf, old wood drawer, black fire glass
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, nest made of my daily hair loss from 2000, cast wax branches, termite riddled stump,
weathered plywood sheets, wood branch with silver leaf, old wood drawer, black fire glass
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, nest made of my daily hair loss from 2000, cast wax branches, termite riddled stump,
weathered plywood sheets, wood branch with silver leaf, old wood drawer, black fire glass
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, oak wood branch, pond stones, fiberglass, dry pigment, Nest – my hair loss 2015
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, oak wood branch, pond stones, fiberglass, dry pigment, Nest – my hair loss 2015
Graphite on modeling paste on panel, oak wood branch, pond stones, fiberglass, dry pigment, Nest – my hair loss 2015
Graphite on paper and modeling paste on panel, nest made of my hair Loss from 2016, branches made of rust/tea stained silk organza, hardware wire thread yarns and wire mesh, black glass, black fire glass, Mexican beach stones, and Lava boulder.
Graphite on paper and modeling paste on panel, nest made of my hair Loss from 2016, branches made of rust/tea stained silk organza, hardware wire thread yarns and wire mesh, black glass, black fire glass, Mexican beach stones, and Lava boulder.
Graphite on paper and modeling paste on panel, nest made of my hair Loss from 2016, branches made of rust/tea stained silk organza, hardware wire thread yarns and wire mesh, black glass, black fire glass, Mexican beach stones, and Lava boulder.
Graphite on paper and modeling paste on panel, nest made of my hair Loss from 2016, branches made of rust/tea stained silk organza, hardware wire thread yarns and wire mesh, black glass, black fire glass, Mexican beach stones, and Lava boulder.
Hung Out In The Projects

“Hung Out In The Projects” 2010, The Morean Art Center
That poverty exists at all within the richest nation in the world is disheartening. That over nearly forty million people live below the poverty level is criminal. This places our country high in industrialized country rankings.
It is this condition, coupled with my first hand experience of a housing project that drives the installation “Hung Out In The Projects.” I did escape, not withstanding the scars that empower the narratives of the installation.
The installation is viewed from a scaffold platform in a semi-darken environment. Different parts of the installation are lighted at intervals. Several seconds here. Several seconds there. There are moments where all goes black. Enlarged poverty statistics project onto walls and broken windows. In conjunction, a soundtrack of discordant city noises is heard.
“Hung Out in the Projects” postulates two distinct views. One is from the scaffold platforms, looking down upon the scene, a separation between the haves and the have-nots. The platform holds an escape exit as well, one not available to those trapped inside the project perimeter. A second view are windows. Each symbolizes the experience of being a prisoner of the project environment, inside looking out, a trap within the trap.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
encaustic, animal skins, canvas, human hair, old windows, old pails, cages. light box fades lights on and off,
soundtrack of city noises by Lin Culbertson plays on a boombox inside an old trash can. Projected text on wall scroll, zoom, and fade.
Baggage Light

“Baggage Light” 2004, Installation in Between Light & Dark at Artspace Gallery Hartford CT
“Baggage Light” exemplifies glimpsing the hidden in fractions of time. It continues a focus of secrets and life hidden, referencing the baggage we carry. The room is dark, work illuminated by bare bulbs flicking on-and- off at intervals. “Baggage Light” is an outgrowth of my first room-size installation “La Longue Durée (A long moment)” at Pinnacle Gallery at Savannah College of Art And Design. Longue Durée, or long term, is an approach to history pioneered by the Annales School in France. It’s a focus on events that occur imperceptibly over long periods of time, on the slowly changing relationships between people and the world with an emphasis on social themes rather than political or diplomatic.
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Silk organza, hair, encaustic, string, rust, tea, wood, clear light bulbs, light control box 108h x 144w x 72d inches
Drawings

“Study for The Last Tree” 2008, 5×8 inches, Graphite on moleskin paper
Drawings serve as an integral process for conceptualizing my installations and sculptures. The drawings are individual works stand on their own.
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Drawing on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Drawing on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
graphite on paper 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper 5×8 inches
Works on Paper

‘Tree With Nine Moons’ 1989, (detail) Monotype on paper, 42”h x 29.5”w
Works on paper include monotypes from the series ‘Falling and Flying Women’ 1988-1990
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 42”h x 29.5”w
Monotype on paper 25”w x 20”h
Body Builders

“After Venus”, 1991, oil, modeling paste, and collage on canvas, 72w x 112h inches
“After Venus”: Women Body Builders 1990 – 1995
Nude Amazons— powerful women body builder— transgress gender codes and boldly confront visualized and verbalized issues about women. Amazons are my metaphor, a magic charm conveying the inherent physical, intellectual and emotional strength of women. The work accentuates the myth of the Amazon, beginning in domination found in ancient matriarchal societies. Symbols from these times, among them the Sheila-No-Gig, Mena, and Yoni, impart historical coda into the dynamics of contemporary women body builders to provoke controversy of the female form, and underscore the long journey of the societal evolution of woman. Women body builders oppose master works of female nudes by male artists, ranging from Rubens to Picasso, and destroy the female as desirable “object.” Profound in my mind is the cultural context of male-female bodies, androgyny, and the undertone of tension between them. I want the work to transcend the parody of the stereotype and empower a new dimension in the continuing societal revolution of women.
Oil, modeling paste, and collage on canvas, 72w x 112h inches
oil,modeling paste, and collage on canvas, oil on wood, 52w x 90h inches
oil,modeling paste, and collage on canvas, oil on wood, 52w x 90h inches
Monotype on paper, 32 x 44 inches
Monotype on paper, 32 x 44 inches
Monotype on paper, 32 x 44 inches Date: 1990
Sculpture and Wall Art

“Inside Out” 1997-2010, mixed medium, 49w x 50h inches
Box pieces and wall sculptures
Human hair, encaustic, copper and wood
Human hair, encaustic, silk organza, thread and wood
Encaustic, horse hair, hair and wood drawer
Human hair, plywood
Human Hair, encaustic, steel pins, and wood
Human hair, encaustic, pins, and wood
A Measure

“A Measure: Animal With Shroud” 2020, 192″h x 62″L x 30″w, Installed at Creative Pinellas Gallery, Rolled and rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza
“A Measure”
Early Greek philosophers, Aristotle prime among them, used the word “measure” in different ways, such as the distinct nature of a thing, a measure being that thing that is predictable. The truly moral person, for example, is a ‘measure’ because such a person shows us our shortcomings, according to one interpretation.
In the series I term “A Measure,” my objects are that nature of a thing against which we measure ourselves, and our treatment of all things living. They illustrate a revelation gained from artist Sue Coe who is famously known for drawings from inside pig factories in a talk I attended years ago. There, an audience member posed the question:
“How can you place an animal above a human being?”
The reply was her “measure.”
“If humans treated all animals, defenseless as they are, with humanity, think of how well we would treat each other.”
That, in essence, is the nature of my objects.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
“A Measure: Animal No.1” 2013 (left) Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) animal, old stained pillow, rusted chain, old nail, old lintel.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Rolled rusted steel, cast iron animal, rusted chain, old pillow, silk organza.
Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) dry pigment powder, silver graphite powder, old stained pillow with encaustic, old rusted chain, old square nail, old lintel.
Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) dry pigment powder, silver graphite powder, old stained pillow with encaustic, old rusted chain, old square nail, old lintel.
Cast wax (paraffin, beeswax, carnuba) dry pigment powder, silver graphite powder, old stained pillow with encaustic, old rusted chain, old square nail, old lintel.
Creative Pinellas Annual 2021

“Double Vessel No.8” 2021, Silk organza, cheesecloth, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, string, color pencil, on paper, 49”w x 49””h x 4”d
Creative Pinellas Arts Annual 2021
November 11, 2021 – December 19, 2021
Gallery is open Wednesday – Sunday 12 – 5pm
1211 Walsingham Rd, Largo, FL 33778
“Skins and Vessels”
The Chinese Wu Xing system lists wood, fire, earth, metal, and water as the five elements. This explains the nature and complexity of all matter in terms of simpler substances.
My work touches on all the elements as I seek to translate, disclose, and disseminate our emotional realities. Time… and accumulating objects over time are manipulated, exposing the seen and not seen.
Layers, and the illusion of layers, are integral to surface just as illusion is always beneath the surface. “Skin and Vessels” explores this premise, the hidden physical, emotional and spiritual layers and the chimera integral in all layers — ours, a structure, whatever. It is an underworld depicted in marred and pocked marks and punctured here and there with thread and stitching. It continues a theme I have been exploring for the past two decades or so, that of surface and a biography beneath the surface. I reference not only humanity but the topographical life and layers of all objects.
The pieces are created with scratches and punctures that sully the surface along with a staining process developed over many years. These baths, which contain different elements and intensity combine rust from found objects along with pellets, nails, steel wool, chain, string and tea. The objects leave their decomposing marks on the skin of the paper or treated surface, penetrating to varieties of depths. Other materials are added, such as silk, thread, yarn, modeling paste, matte medium, human hair and encaustic.
Overall, two events influence the work. The first: Hurricane Katrina in 2005, which devastated New Orleans, pulled back my childhood as I watched the suffering there. As a young girl, I lived in public housing due to my father’s illness. This time of poverty resurfaced as I viewed the Katrina aftermath. It formed a fresh direction, exemplified by a major installation called “Hung Out In The Projects”.
The second is Jared Diamond’s lecture of the Easter Islanders, devastated through the rape of their own environment. His question: “What was the islander thinking when he chopped down the last tree?” resonated in me and inspired a room-size installation “The Last Tree” as well as other environmental works.
I continue to confront the questions of humanity and my habitat. The totality of my work through the years essentially begs the question: When do we recognize and act?
Silk organza, cheesecloth, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, string, color pencil, on paper
Silk organza, cheesecloth, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, string, color pencil, on paper
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
Cotton organza, encaustic, rust, tea, thread, yarn, paper, dry pigment, charcoal, graphite, color pencil, modeling paste on canvas on panel
rust, tea, and encaustic on paper and on canvas stitched into wood frame.
rust, tea, and encaustic on paper and on canvas stitched into wood frame.
Encaustic, hair, rust, tea, thread, on paper on canvas stitched into wood
Encaustic, hair, rust, tea, thread, on paper on canvas stitched into wood
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, silk organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Encaustic, rust, tea, string, thread, silk organza, on paper, modeling paste, rusted steel
Rusted steel frame, modeling paste on panel in shadow box frame, paper, rust, tea, string, thread cotton organza, yarn, rice paper
“Address: Earth” at Hudson Valley MOCA

“Luna Window: Ladder No. 16” 2016
Silk Organza, rust, tea, human hair, encaustic, string, thread, yarn, old nails and reconstructed old window. About 93h x 80w x 60d inches
“Address: Earth” at Hudson Valley MOCA
September 1 – December 10, 2022
Gallery is open Thursday and Saturday 11am-5pm
1701 Main St, Peekskill, NY 10566
“Sculpture and Drawings”
My focus for the past seventeen years has been the existential crisis of our time, climate change and its effect upon the environment. This focus began after witnessing hurricane Katrina in 2005 and shortly after, I heard Anthropologist Jared Diamond lecture on the demise of past societies. These two incidents paved a journey of investigation into the links of greed as it effects the environment and one of its major aftermaths, poverty. Poverty is personal. As a young teenager, my father’s illness landed us in a subsidized housing project for three years. This period lingered in my mind as I contemplated the New Orleans ordeal and Dr Diamond’s words. It was evident a dominant minority was manipulating our natural resources to our harm.
These thoughts manifested in a series of room size installations and sculptures. My approach was a focus on the negative effects of climate change. “The Last Tree” the largest installation to date, debuted in SOHO at the ISE Cultural Foundation. Later, an updated version had a six-month view at the Burchfield Penny Art Center in Buffalo NY.
I utilize the unexpected and common materials in ways to stimulate experimentation, allowing new and multiple meanings. I’m a fan of Joseph Beuys and as he did, I take care in selecting raw materials, selecting those primarily from the natural world. Through these salvaged and upcycled materials, I developed unique techniques over time. For example: In a search to represent skin, I concocted a bath to stain silk organza and a variety of papers. It includes salvaged rusted odd objects and tea combined with salt and an encaustic process. Now underway is another experimental technique to create tree branch limbs and stumps, using my distinctively-stained silk organza as the base to felt with human hair. Commonly, felt is made with wool. Felting with human hair alters it, and defines a new purpose.
My current series “Hair Nest”, represented by studies in this exhibition, is a conscious attempt to flip to the positive; to reveal the beauty of an individual tree through the process of drawing and sewing. Each drawing is life size and details a tree’s skin or bark. Throughout the hours-upon-hours of rendering each, I am conscious of two facts: a tree’s resilience to withstand destructive human action, and conversely, our duty to care for these trees, a critical sustainable infrastructure of the planet. To destroy the trees is to eventually destroy ourselves.
It was a natural progression to combine the large tree drawings with my signature component — human hair. Most of my work involves hair; the loss of it, the collection of it and the transformation of it. As noted in the “Hair Nest” series, the nest constructed specifically from my hair loss places me with the tree essentially physically, symbolically, and metaphorically as hair contains our complete DNA. More so, hair contributes to the definition of self as a medium, again metaphorically and literally.
In the series “Luna Window” human hair is used as stuffing to create soft sculptures. The anonymous hair collected from salons over the years of this environmental and poverty leitmotif contains multitudes of DNA and physically represents humanity. Both ladder and animal in “Luna Window: Ladder No.16” are constructed of rust and tea-stained silk organza, and stuffed with substantial volumes of human hair. This body of work speaks specifically to the effects of climate change on the environment and one of its major aftermaths, poverty.
Rust and tea stained silk organza stuffed with human hair, cheesecloth, leather, various yarns, string and thread, old nails and fabricated old window
Rust and tea stained silk organza stuffed with human hair, cheesecloth, leather, various yarns, string and thread, old nails and fabricated old window
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
Graphite on moleskin paper, 5×8 inches
“Lost Trees” at HCC Gallery 221 Tampa Florida

“Lost Trees”, 2022
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel, wood stumps and branches, old pails, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files, drawings on paper and panel. About 32 x 26 feet
“Lost Trees” at HCC Gallery 221 Tampa Florida
October 10 – December 1, 2022
“Lost Trees”
My focus for the past seventeen years is climate change and its effect upon the environment. After witnessing hurricane Katrina in 2005, I heard Anthropologist Jared Diamond lecture on the demise of past societies. These two incidents spurred an investigation into the links of greed as they effect the environment and particularly, one of its major repercussions — poverty.
Poverty is personal. As a teenager, my father’s illness placed us in a housing project for three years. This period was in my mind as I contemplated the New Orleans ordeal and Dr Diamond’s words. It became evident a dominant minority was manipulating our natural resources to our harm — and to theirs as well. Obviously, this is the existential crisis of our time.
Thoughts became action, manifested in a series of room size installations and sculptures. For some time, attention was on the negative effects of climate change. Among them was the room-size installation “The Last Tree” as well as smaller works including “The Last Tree: Squared” and “The Last Sea.”
My outlook changed during my daily walks with my dogs along tree shaded streets and paths. I couldn’t help but note the perseverance of trees. This casual observation was more than bolstered by my research. Science notes twenty-two benefits of a single tree. They encompass air quality, climate change, erosion control, and food to name only four. Tree markings — scars and burns — and tree-ring dating provide yearly climate histories. The markings speak of an existence affected by elements beyond their control, drought, fire, disease and of course, humans. Yet, trees endure.
I incorporate the new positivity in this “Lost Trees” installation series. Throughout the hours-upon-hours of rendering and sewing, I am consciously reminded of the beauty of a tree as revealed in the process, the drawings for example detailing trees’ skin or bark. Another is their resilience to destructive human action, and conversely, our duty to care for them as a critical sustainable infrastructure of the planet. To destroy the trees is to eventually destroy ourselves.
I trust one sees their beauty in the diaphanous silk organza columns of the installation, which evoke a ghostly sense of loss and at the same time, hopefulness. We question whether the trees are truly missing or waiting to appear as in the withering trees in various entrapments wrapped to protect them from human destruction.
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches,
old pails, various stones and polished glass, enamel paint, upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches, old pails,
upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files, drawings on paper and panel. About 32 x 26 feet
Silk organza, cotton organza, yarn, thread, graphite on panel prepared with modeling paste, wood stumps and branches, old pails,
upcycled cast paper bricks from junk mail and old files, drawings on paper and panel. About 32 x 26 feet
Graphite on Claybord cradled panel.
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
Graphite on modeling paste on panel.
“Beauty In Climax” Department of Contemporary Art, Tampa FL

“A Question of Beauty No.2: April 2011”, 2011
Photo of me (taken by my father William Reingold) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite.
38.25 x 16.25 inches (includes plexiglass frame)
Fallout: Beauty Lost and Found” and “A Question of Beauty,” series examine the nature of beauty — or more appropriately, the loss of beauty and its resurrection using my hair loss. The connection of hair and beauty has been in my work for the past two decades but I was initially drawn to its polar opposites — a gorgeous head of hair equated to the wad plugging the bathtub drain. The first works with human hair from salons began in the nineties and in 1998 I began to collect my own daily hair loss due to thyroid disease.
In “A Question of Beauty No.2” the faded memory of my infancy is overlaid with a month of hair loss, recast as doodles; object transcending the ordinary to the eternal. The photograph of me, taken by my father, is truly a lodestone of the beginning of beauty, and hence, marked by time. It is a photograph of which I have no memory. Photography was my father’s passion before he became ill with MS. I was ten. Although I never felt like I knew him well, I helped with his care for another 25 years. Using his image connects us — and, in a strange way, informs me.
The individual hair doodles are stitched onto the photos. Each doodle is dated on the day of loss. The hair doodles, then, are a personal calligraphy of beauty and sexuality. Cultures expose or cover hair for this reason. Hair, as well, throughout history has served as a keepsake, before and after death, secreted into a locket or jewelry or pressed into a Bible or diary. Conversely, hair is repulsive. Consider the tendril on a dinner plate or a mass plugging the shower drain.
Abstracting my bounty of hair on a daily basis and forming a doodle each day starting in 2005 became a way of exploring the attraction-repulsion dynamic of unsullied beauty and innocence of youth, and what enduring implies in this context. Surprisingly, an act that began as a documentation of the erosion of beauty — and all that it implies — became something else; a private and secret language tracking across time to ironically amplify the psychological question of self-esteem as age impacts physical beauty.
Hair remains a most powerful medium, both metaphorically and literally. It contains our complete DNA and lives beyond our death. Adrian Piper in her piece “What will become of me,” has willed her hair (collected since 1985) to MoMA for this purpose.
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
Photo (taken by my father) on 300lb cotton rag Hahnemulen watercolor paper, my hair loss doodles from April 2011, thread, and graphite. 38.25 x 16.25 inches
“Stitched + Dyed” Dunedin Fine Art Center

“Double Vessel No.09”, 2023
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws.
30 x 30 x 2 inches
“Stitched + Dyed” at Dunedin Fine Art Center, Dunedin, FL
June 16 – August 13
Skins and Vessels
The Chinese Wu Xing system lists wood, fire, earth, metal and water as the five elements. This explains the nature and complexity of all matter in terms of simpler substances. My work touches on all the elements as I seek to translate, disclose, disseminate and observe the current social construct.
I utilize the unexpected in ways to stimulate experimentation, allowing new and multiple meanings. I’m a fan of Joseph Beuys and duplicate his care in selecting raw materials, primarily from the natural world. Through these salvaged and upcycled materials, I developed unique techniques over time. For example: In a search to represent skin, I concocted a bath to stain silk organza and a variety of papers. It includes odd rusted objects and tea combined with salt and an encaustic process. The passage of time… and accumulating objects over time are manipulated, exposing the seen and not seen.
At age fifteen, secrets were my constant companions when family conditions placed me and my four siblings in a tough and unsafe housing project in the east side of Cleveland. My time in the projects influenced thoughts about the less fortunate and the secrets we hide. Then as now layers and hidden meanings in layers have influenced my work. Secrets hide below the surface and inside vessels. Skin is the exterior layer of humanity, a fragile boundary between what exists to the outside and what hides away.
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches
Rust, tea, embroidery thread, cheesecloth, encaustic, and color pencil
on paper on modeling paste on wood panel, rusted steel, plexiglass, lag screws. 30 x 30 x 2 inches