How To Be A Cockroach

Inspired by my ongoing works-on-paper series, How To Be, and created specifically for CAMP Gallery’s 4th Annual textile-forward Women Pulling at the Threads of Social Discourse exhibit, “How To Be A Cockroach” is a satellite piece intended as a de facto manual for anyone that might find themselves in a situation similar to the character of Gregor Samsa from Kafka’s seminal work, The Metamorphosis.

In a society trained to gravitate towards instantaneous solutions, the How To Be series offers immediate solutions: drive-by remedies for those who require immediate instruction in the act of being a particular thing. In the series, each barrage of pithy bullet points (some more useful than others) comes complete with an “action” figure.  A literal take on the term “pocket guide”, these wee visual mentors are illustrative of the desired transformation once the advice has been implemented.

The bullet points for How To Be A Cockroach directly reference the text of Kafka’s The Metamorphosis (Susan Bernofsky’s 2014 translation) and are inspired by researched facts about Periplaneta americana.

I would like to think that, had Mr. Samsa read the advice in the guide instead of just eating the glue that bound the pages of the book together, perhaps his unexpected transformation would have been something to celebrate rather than mourn.

As a nod to Gregor Samsa’s employment as a textile salesman, I substituted the American cockroach’s natural wardrobe of rich browns for a lush suit of elegantly patterned greens and golden warm hues. This updated color palette contrasts beautifully with the background made from a repurposed blue work shirt – a playful wink at the idea of a blue-collar worker. Samsa, as a salesman, isn’t technically blue-collar, though his reason for employment (working to pay off his parent’s large debt to the textile company) does read like indentured servitude. The particular weave of the work shirt (Oxford cloth), an upscale wardrobe, and the possession of not one but three iPhones, suggests that this Samsa, although in an elevated tax-bracket, is still an indentured laborer, under the boot and trying to do his job “by the book”.

CAMP Gallery invited participants to share the inspiration behind their literary inspired artworks by answering a few questions:

Q: Is this your first time being in The Women Pulling at The Threads of Social Discourse exhibition series? If yes, what drew you in? If not, how many have you been in – and what are your thoughts over the different editions?

A. Yes, this is the first time, and I’m really excited to be participating in Women Pulling at The Threads of Social Discourse. I was immediately drawn to the title of the open call, Don’t Be Absurd. As an artist, I lean heavily into the concept of absurdity in my practice.

Q: Each edition of this fiber series asks artists to respond to particular literary classics, who did you select for this year and why?

A: When I saw that Kafka’s The Metamorphosis was on the literary list, I knew I had to submit. I’m attracted to how Kafka dances between the humor and horror of humanity. To inspire the text in my piece, I chose a recent translation by Susan Bernofsky. It was important to me to reference a text that was translated by a woman.

Q: What do you feel about the shape constraint [circular, with the option of various diameters]?

A: Sometimes a size and shape constraint can be frustrating, but I personally love the challenge of working in pre-set parameters, particularly for a specially proposed piece. I find it frees up my process to concentrate on other aspects of the work such as composition, color, and texture.

Q: At the gallery, we are always interested in knowing how the actual process of making the work affects you – please explain, if you can, what is on your mind while making your piece?

A: My process typically involves many details and painstaking repetition. Completion of pieces is slow and steady, with lots of time spent researching current world news, events. Often, I’ll reference topical events in the layers of the finished work, which makes it a bit of a time capsule. My slow pace leaves room for amendments and additions – the result is sometimes quite different than the originally planned sketch.

For my How To Be series, I first draft the text snippets and then move on to the visual composition. The text contained in How To Be A Cockroach combines direct references to Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, biological facts about the American cockroach species, and satirical jabs at the state of current U.S. politics.

Q: What inspires you?

A: Personally, I’m inspired by other’s creativity, be it visual, dance, music, theatre, text, and everything in between. It can be celebratory, critical, beautiful, repulsive. I’m here for all of it. I love being prompted to think about something differently, or to look at something through the eyes and mind of another human.

My artwork is inspired by the human condition and all the absurdity that comes with it. I’m driven by different things at different times. Sometimes I’m inspired to create out of grief for tragedies. At other times, I’m inspired by the comedic connection between two or more disparate subjects.

Currently, I’m inspired by the natural world, in particular resilient species who have adapted to not only surviving but thriving in harsh climates, political and otherwise 😉

Q: Can you let us know about three fiber artists who have helped shape your work?

A: I feel a strong connection to Louise Bourgeois, who used her cast-off clothing to create many of her artworks over the years. I’m a long-time shopper of recycled clothing and use items until they fall apart. Once an item is unrepairable, it goes into my fabric collection to be repurposed in my textile pieces.

Frances Glessner Lee was not a profession textile artist, but she created miniature instructional dioramas of crime scenes that are used in the training seminars of State police – The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death. The intense care put into every tiny detail wasn’t necessary for the purpose of the dioramas, but it’s obvious that the details mattered to her: hand knit stockings from thread, tiny paintings hung on the walls, and miniature hand-stitched clothing and furnishings. I think of Lee every time I include a layer or detail that might only be seen by someone a sharp attention to detail or by someone who intimately handles the piece or by someone who ends up doing reconstruction work on the piece in the future. Miniature magazines must have text and images. Tiny belt buckles must function. Wee steel chains must be created to scale link by link by link out of wire. Fun fact, Lee also happened to be the first woman to join the International Association of Police Chiefs (1942).

While not a fiber artist per se, Marisol’s practice was positioned as “craft” by many of her contemporaries and early critics. Many of her mixed media artworks are composed of figures that feature her own face, whether it be painted, drawn, cast, carved, or all of the above. Marisol’s playful use of found objects and carved wood harness the magic of illusion and the power of suggestion. The subtext in her work is cheeky and political. She has perhaps had the most influence on my practice and the way that I work.