Tracy Grubbs: I like the way my eye moves from the darned image back to the edge of the fabric. There is something so suggestive about the way the red threads hover there creating an almost misty edge-- a set of new possibilities extending out beyond the edge of what we know. I appreciate the rewards of deep looking here (thanks to the zoom tool). I wish I could touch what is here.


Daniel Leng: This work is interesting to me on many levels both physically and metaphorically. The idea that things and people can be defined by the randomness that happens and the randomness of the reaction is wonderful. Tearing cloth... seemingly perfect re-weaving... alterations... a look at what's behind what has been made whole again? All complex ideas presented in a simple object. Beautiful to think about. Thanks for sharing your work.


Catherine Haley Epstein: Joyce thank you for sharing these works with the P+L community! Quite brave works. I noticed some of the titles of the works allude to the clothing items, turning the body into an object of sorts, and the head and faces are removed where the clothes items are describing the works. I wondered if that was intentional? I like the contrasts of marks in this "Pencil Suit" piece. If clothing and it's evolution are at all an interest in your work, I highly recommend "Seeing Through Clothes" by Ann Hollander - it's an anthropological review of the history of clothes. Promise it's a smart but light read, and you might find curious some of the deeper details of how we humans have "covered" ourselves over the years. Thanks again for sharing!

Joyce Kubat: Thank you for your comments, Catherine. My titles are simply used to identify the piece, to tell one from another. When I do nudes, some silly part in me wants to put clothes on them, often see-through, suggestive. It makes me laugh. Often the nude pieces are somewhat boring until I tweak them. And no, it isn't intentional to remove the heads. It's just my instinctual way, to avoid being academic when facing the model, I leave off the heads. And unusual things happen along the way. All these are from my PINK INKS series which started in 2003. It began when I drew a clothesline across the paper and hung body parts from it, and it has evolved since then. I with pleasure will order the book you recommend.


Daniel Leng: Intriguing to hear the background on the work, Sam. Thanks for taking the time. I find the image really engaging as well and would love to see it in person someday. For me, it eloquently captures the idea of a journey, physical as well as mental. The high horizon leaves my eyes wandering/swirling in the field of marks at the bottom, wanting to get to the clean open structures on the horizon, but not ever feeling like I get there. Love the tension.

Sam Tudyk: Thank you Daniel, I love hearing your description of the work as a journey. It seems especially fitting since it was the last work in a series that I had been working on for months (an end chapter in my personal artistic journey).

Catherine Haley Epstein: Sam I love this work, I remember seeing it in situ in your last PDX exhibition - really brilliant!! The fact that the top half of the work is calm and slowly rendered, while the bottom half is an act of patience and anxiety all at once. Counting things finds its way in my practice and it's as much an act of quieting the mind as well as a rabid search for patterns. I love the relationship with these marks that seem to illustrate both rigorous self control and a big giant breath at once. Thank you for sharing this work!

Sam Tudyk: Thank you Catherine, that is a wonderful observation!

I created this artwork after a month long self-imposed residency in Marfa a few years ago. The bright, arid Texas landscape with its blue skies and pale grounds was such a stark difference from the dark, wet, lush, green Novembers that I had grown accustomed to in Portland. I wanted to capture a sense of that, including the ochre grasses that surround areas of the Chinati Foundation.

Even more impressed upon me in Marfa was the concentration of minimalist art, and of course Donald Judd’s work. My perception of that style of artwork shifted in front of my eyes on that trip, and it led me to imagine my folded letters as objects with a greater physicality and scale. I was working on several large paintings for the show you mentioned, focusing on handwritten materials and correspondence, and this was the last work I created. I usually have an extensive amount of process that goes into my work before I get to painting, however this work flowed out of me without any over-thinking. The tally marks had become a symbol to represent time-passing in my vocabulary with art, and it seemed like a perfect visual to illustrate the grasses. The shapes on the horizon are a simplified representation of a folded letter, one that never gets sent but remains in memory.

Thanks for the dialogue!


Nigel P : 'Heads or Tails' - is the small round object between the two figures a coin? Is the 'fragility' of the title a reference to the play of logic & chance? Is this a contest between the two, or a lineage - a line from one to the other? Bodies once balanced on the edge of becoming, or imagined missing links, evolutionary glitches- dead ends.

A kind of driftwood serendipity, drawing the figures into being through luck and ingenuity: endeavour & creativity directed by the fates: held together by anatomical conventions & laws of physics. If I throw enough words down, some are bound to land right. Others perish on the harder ground.

Then again, the figures are placed & pinned, deliberately poised. Though the whole is framed with some weighty institutional cues, as Nina noted - like in a Natural History museum: the figures are tensed, arched (in at least two senses of the word).

I like these improbable imposter monsters - seeing a family resemblance to Donna Haraway's trickster cyborgs: mammalian forms combined from flotsam thrown up by the sea, a perverse evolution: a mythical return -debris of ancient forest from fantastical lands drowned for millennia, now given up from the deeps, recombined to Iive again. Or bits of a wrecked shipping pallet, the chippngs of global commodity exchange. Either way, adds up to a game of gloriously botched Darwinian permutations.

Giovanni Longo: Hi Nigel, yeah the small object between the two figures is a coin as in a game for their survival. Thank you so much for your comment.

Nigel P : Hi Giovanni My money is on the little one, looks nippy & snappy, and just about to spring! Great stuff.

Nina Parys: About "Heads or tails" we can see two skeletons of animals, quite complicated to identify for a no professional in biology (dogs?). They are both vertebrate, face to face, an adult and a child, maybe his child. And these skeletons are made of wood. The wood is dry. It seems fragile and light. The fragility is increased by this confrontation between the big one and the small one. The tail draws an "S" like a necklace of pearls. There's a little object in the middle of the scene, the smaller animal seems to play with this object. The space is neutral, almost the same clear color as the bones, and the light gives an atmosphere of serenity. A strange feeling takes place, the postures refers to living actions whereas skeletons refers to death, but in addition to this, the skeletons are not real skeletons, they are made of dead wood. It's more dead than death, it's more silencious than a silence of death.
This sculpture makes me feel alone, like if nothing on Earth really existed, because these sculptures put like in an museum of natural history, using the same scenic language as a scientific exhibition, mimics and fakes reality. These animals have never been. And that's a deeply interesting point in art, to make you doubt of what you think you know. You're just looking at sculptures, and gradually, you realize that your strongest certainty are light like dead wood.

Giovanni Longo: Thank you Nina :)

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