Describing the music of Steve Reich, the journalist Tim Paige asks us to imagine “a frame on a running river—making it a finite, enclosed work of art yet leaving its kinetic quality unsullied.” (Tim Paige, The New Yorker, “Parallel Play,” August 20, 2007.)
These ledger works are my attempt at “framing a river.” Drawing the parallel lines by hand, I am caught up in the repetition and variation of the grid against the grain, creating a tonal composition.
The grid series explores the relationship between wood grain and the accounting grid of ledger paper. It is a dialogue between patterns, one natural, one man made. That interchange took on a new meaning when I moved to Oregon where lumber has such a significant history. The images can be read as surface or void, land mass or water, a kind of mirage. These works continue to reference geography, but the images no longer just describe the edge of a riverbank, but include the danger of drought and the threat of rising tides.