a blessing buried

 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.