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This selection of images comes from an extended series that investigates the relationship between memory and architecture and also explores the computer as a memory device. Created during 1987-91, each photomontage is printed as a 20"x24" Cibachrome.

They were montaged with a predecessor of PhotoShop, an image processing program that "captured" live video framess that were then converted to digital files. These images usually combine a frame from a live video source, thus recording a performative interaction between artist and machine. Many images show one of my hands reaching down to use the stylus on the tablet. Coincidentally, I found a parallel between my physical relationship with the computer and the use of buildings as mnemonic devices by classical orators. I had initially used the title of "architecture and memory" because of the shared vocabulary between buildings and computers: "location," "board," "space," "address," "structure," "partition," etc. However, the connection with the classical mnemonic process expanded the associative possibilitie of the words. I also found myself interested in variations of the architectural metaphor and in the bodily aspects of computing that accompanied the cerebral ones. It came as a bit of surprise that as with other visual media, the artist's hand and body could remain a player when using a computer.

Electronic Recall

Searching for Piranesi

What You See, Feel

Traces of Gold from Prague

Among Ruins

Memory Lapse

Memory Descends and Stands Watch on the Porch

Body, Memory, House

Retracing History

Recalling Old Stories

No Hard Evidence

Black & white photographs, printed and recorded text, graphite, colored pencil, ink, oil stick, wood, paint. 81.5" high x 127" wide

Photoconstruction as Bricolage                        Barn Restructured for Endless Wandering

No Hard Evidence followed smaller "photoconstructions" (two are above) and my move in 1984 to Washington, DC, from Washington, Vermont, a small town where I had lived for ten years on fifteen acres of land without electricity or running water. My life in Vermont was neither quiet nor idyllic: there was wood to haul, cut, and stack; water to pump; large gardens to plant, tend, and harvest; snow to plow and tricky winter roads to negotiate on my way to teach at Goddard College and the University of Vermont.

The nation's capital was very different and its chaos spilled over into my studio work. Living just five miles from the US Capitol made me pay attention to information in new ways. No Hard Evidence came from the phrase I often heard as I listened to the PBS news program, All Things Considered. I was amused and dismayed by the twists and turns of language used to report the "news" of the day; Ibegan to create a parallel in No Hard Evidence, piecing together various news sound bites to create a disorienting crazy quilt of words and images.