In an attempt to explore the possibilities and potentialities of queerness – beyond the sexual, the figurative, and the representational – my practice finds comfort in contradictions and prioritizes the accumulation of fragments as a productive model for interrogating the complexity and strangeness of our everyday lives. Combining my formal training in painting and sculpture with learned strategies from the curatorial and archival turn, I have created a hybridized practice that approaches research as a productive form of sketching, and collaboration as an intergenerational affair. Material specificity and a hyper saturated color palette remain as connective through lines in my practice, but to properly view my work requires one to wade within a constantly shifting scale of visual and historical opacity. Much like the amorphous qualities attributed to opacity, my projects and exhibitions combine moments of visual clarity, historical opaqueness, interrelational translucency, and archival concreteness to create experiences that question our perception of the normal. In recent work this approach has taken the form of abstract painting, sculptural interventions, performance scores, video projection, immersive sound, and critical writing as I endeavor to redirect cultural attention towards the scuffed floors of empty nightclubs, tabooed childhood desires, and most recently, the ways in which histories erase the marginalized from record.
Calling upon the collective memory of our great divas, dikes, faggots, tranies, and queens, my work aims to find its place within a queer lineage while forging new ground for abstract queer ideologies. I am indebted to the writing of José Muñoz, Eve Sedgwick, Johanna Burton, and Sarah Ahmed to name but a few of my, what Nadxieli Nieto has coined, many gendered mothers. From Muñoz I have learned that the road to utopia is made through close looking. Sedgwick and her axioms of the closet have helped me develop tactics to strategically enact the performative power of queer expression while disrupting a binary model. Johanna Burton, through her writing and curation, has introduced me to the ways in which visibility politics are used to both empower and oppress people in our contemporary neoliberal society, and Sara Ahmed, my great intellectual crush, has trained me to seek out disorientation as a critical apparatus for cultural production. In her book, Queer Phenomenology, Ahmed speaks of queerness’s inherent sticky quality, and through my own artistic practice, I aim to stick to the normative and the unquestioned – allowing my sappy-faggy-queer effect to gunk up these pillars of visible and invisible oppression.