Date of Award
Spring 5-14-2023
Degree Name
Bachelor of Fine Arts (BFA)
Restricted/Unrestricted
Unrestricted
Abstract
It feels more like sounding it out than constructing it. Choosing and adapting images, concentrating on the auxiliary fragments (out-of-focus elements, the corner of the table, the reflection in the window, the highway median) and the backgrounds (the sky and its clouds, the gravel ground, the movement of the water, the horizons where these meet), I then breathe them together. The final products are primarily collages, and though they are originally constructed from printed media and found objects, their final forms are scanned and rematerialized. The content of these works focuses on the relationships between the chosen fragments and how their formal attributes connect. Viewers parse through the works in various ways; poster, zine, or digital, and I hope the scope of access gives opportunities for different connections and ideas to percolate in viewers' minds.
Mentor/Primary Advisor
Heather Bennett, Cherryl Wassenaar, and Jen Meyer
Recommended Citation
Buyers, Grace, "A Loud Volume Landscape" (2023). Bachelor of Fine Arts Senior Papers. 109.
https://openscholarship.wustl.edu/bfa/109
Artist's Statement
It feels more like sounding it out than constructing it.
Choosing and adapting images, concentrating on the auxiliary fragments (out-of-focus elements, the corner of the table, the reflection in the window, the highway median) and the backgrounds (the sky and its clouds, the gravel ground, the movement of the water, the horizons where these meet) I then breathe them together.
But I'm not very good at spelling –– Language is built on vibrations rather than letters. Maybe I'm writing a new word or perhaps it’s just a mispronunciation.
The results (photo, sculpture, print, painting, collage) are a symptom of this montage process –– taking supplementary shards in image or object form, then dramatizing them into a piece that holds the notion of the environment but creates a new landscape. The final semblance isn't perfect, spelled or sounded a little off, and access is limited in surprising material and formal contrasts.
It feels more like walking around it than building it.
I wonder (or wander) about the thing that caught me, that instant I'm circling back to, how it might leave a residue, a solution.
I'm searching for accidents in printed media and sparkle in windows. I hoard these moments, savor their weight in my head, take pleasure in using them, and empathize with everything I discard. Pulling my surroundings into my studio, my brain, while blasted with music, titrates splinters of information and isolates salient visual moments. Sometimes I have to turn the volume down to see the slice better.
A long ramble in good weather is preferred. And when the timing is right… finding yourself at the front step just as the sun has set.
My work is usually bright and, I would argue, pleasurable. More about finding something in it than just what it is. Which means there's often a lot in it. I am sensitive to the muchness of current times, a world littered with architectural and photographic relics, and know that to captivate you have to overstimulate –– the beauty I create (fun) is defined by the harmony of its complexities.
So I'm thankful for my good sense of direction.