a blessing buried
flax sheets wrapped in lead envelopes buried beneath the floor of The Corcoran.
a blessing buried
a
site specific work from
Travis
Wagner
In a space
between spaces, a place that is both above and below, lie seven
envelopes bearing seven layers of blessings. Earthy brown flax
sheets warmly rest within cold lead envelopes. Delicately, the
unmarked flax sheets contrast and coexist with the smothering weight
and density of the lead. As polar opposites in nearly every way, the
two materials are beautifully married into a relationship of vessel
and contents, or perhaps, body and soul. As the raw fibers of the
flax are beat to a usable paper pulp, it requires the constant
surveillance to be certain that the pulp is not over beat. The
truest indicator that the fibers have transformed into usable pulp is
touch. This necessitates a constant physical contact between the
artist and the fiber. Within this constant contact, it is inevitable
for a transfer of energy to happen, for a blessing to pass from the
creator to the created.
Below the
floor and above the ceiling, a space between spaces is often ignored,
unexplored, and neglected. From this place, the positive energy that
is stored up within the flax sheets, now beneath your feet, can
permeate the space. Buried safely and undetected, the blessing can
fill the space and pass to the next occupant. The space between a
space has become a space that will house goodwill and blessing for
generations of students to bare the fruits of a blessing buried.
Building on
the body of work I generated with in the presence of a ghost (Fall
2012), I continued to
explore the idea of lingering presences and the autonomy of
materials. This continued exploration lead me to think about the
imposition of a presence. The lingering of a ghost is far different
than the presence of a spirit, and a positive energy can be passed
without the negative connotations of death or separation. Through
lovingly working the materials into objects, I have embedded a
blessing into them, and consequently into the studio space. As a
site specific work, a blessing buried engages
a much more intimate audience than the commonly public works of site
specificity. As the work has been buried beneath the floor of my art
school studio, it has a limited sphere of influence, and feels much
more like a relationship than a lecture or sermon. Instead of
sledgehammering an idea from a soapbox on a crowded street corner, a
blessing buried will gradually
and subtly become a part of the next student who occupies this studio
space.