solo at Washington & Jefferson College
Travis Townsend
some thoughts on why I make these things
Sketched, built, carved, drawn-on, dis-assembled, rebuilt, painted, tethered, clamped, tinkered-upon and appearing as function-less vessel forms (some of which have been evolving for over a decade), these sculptures play off the forms of tools, toys, and boats and have layers of mark-making and painting that contribute to the building of a vague history.
Some are based around the idea of a failed ark. And they aim to be (in their own idiosyncratic way) well-made and innovative in form. Perhaps they are beautiful.
These process-oriented works take a winding path to completion, evolving from continuously redrawn sketches and traveling through many transformations before being cut apart, reassembled, and reworked. Parts are often transplanted, left behind, or recycled. Curious inspection and patient observation reveal previously unseen drawings and interior spaces.
It’s not lost on me that my studio is the garage. And I’m in the studio at night tinkering with memories and thinking about the things that men build. Have we built good things? Am I building a good thing? Is this personal and artistic self-doubt? Well, partially. But more importantly, I hope the work communicates the joyfully absurd act of making (and re-making) (and re-contemplating).
The drawings are often centered on goofy-looking dead birds surrounded by many cartoony flowers and tanks. These characters often occupy my imagination and show up within obsessive doodles of inter-connected vein-like lines. The image of a dead bird is potentially symbolic of so many things- death of beauty, environmental disaster, loss of innocence, and perhaps even Christ.