STATEMENT

As a sculptor I have been accustomed to making constructions within certain consciously and subconsciously self-imposed boundaries, such as always using discarded materials, whether they be iron, wood, or ceramic, or looking for odd and awkward juxtapositions that somehow create an unlikely balance, or giving color an importance equal to that of form. I never gave much thought to the origin of these inclinations within myself until I had returned several times to Vietnam, the country of my childhood. It is a country where nothing is wasted and everything, no matter how old, is used. It is also a place where unlikely conjunctions of utilitarian objects occur everywhere in the natural course of people’s daily lives. They are unconscious combinations that hold a visual fascination for me and provide clues to the roots of my own predisposition to make such constructions in my work.

As I walk the streets of Hanoi, photographing these unintentional “sculptures,” I think about the work I have been inspired to do in past trips to the country of my origin. In 2002, the tradition of embedding broken ceramics into the walls of temples and other buildings held a powerful attraction for me. I was invited to make a permanent sculptural installation in the park on the banks of the Perfume River in Hue. This was the first large-scale permanent piece I made using broken pottery and tiles from the region. It was a piece that the public immediately understood and could incorporate into the life of the park. Back in New York I have been working with broken ceramics and discarded furniture since that time.

Now I find an affinity with bamboo and the multitude of uses it fills here. This installation incorporates some of my discoveries, some of my wondering and some of my investigation into the roots of my existance.