黑料不打烊

Propped against the wall on the artist鈥檚 kitchen table is an empty moss-green cardboard folder with a typed label reading: 鈥榬olled and bent tube forms鈥�, and next to it a plant cutting of the Tradescantia Pallida or 鈥楶urple heart鈥�, now over-watered, its slender purple and green leaves browning. The hallway floor is lined with metal salvage that trails out of a large west-facing room, its own floor covered with metal and ceramic sections. A king-size bed is marooned against the wall. The artist鈥檚 calves and ankles, and her children鈥檚 toes, are bruised and scraped from stepping around the works on the way from bed to toilet in the dark. The parts are continually rearranged between meals, fragments feeling out for a positive placement, 鈥榓 new whole鈥�.

The title of the exhibition is collaged from letters written by photographer Vivienne Entwistle, the artist鈥檚 great-grandmother, to her son, architect Clive Entwistle, the artist鈥檚 grandfather. The final phrase, 鈥榓nd so on and so on鈥︹�� in its formal circularity leads us to the center of the artist鈥檚 compulsion towards 鈥榯ransformational rehabilitation鈥�. In 1978 feminist art critic Lucy Lippard wrote, 鈥楾oday we are resurrecting our mothers鈥�, aunts鈥�, and grandmothers鈥� activities not only in the well-publicized areas of quilts and textiles but also in a more random and freer area of transformational rehabilitation. On an emotional as well as on a practical level, rehabilitation has always been women鈥檚 work.鈥�

In these new works, Entwistle disrupts a perceived sculptural and architectural lineage that centers on monumentality, exteriority, transparency, linearity, and closed form, often rendered through the articulated tectonics of steel and bronze. Instead, she brings these mediums together with ceramic and textile to explore fragmentation, interiority, degrees of opacity, horizontality, permeability, the crooked, and the inarticulate.