Joe Page

Essentially, everything in my “kit” is either a bubble or something modeled after that shape. The slip-cast porcelain bubbles are finished to remove overt traces of the hand, leaving an ambiguous, sterile, and modular impression. Located independently of any particular context, there is no sense of scale or purpose; a bubble can be molecular or planetary. The convex language of the bubble transfers to everything in flux, whether it’s the sculptural foam forms in three-dimensional space or the outlines of the impossibly flat vinyl colors traversing the walls and floor. Clouds, mountains, waterfalls, wind currents, rays of light, and the growth of vegetation all fall within the same values dictated by this endlessly insistent, possibly authoritarian, repetition. The reductive simplicity of these environments is at once comforting and cloying, sincere and cynical.