The Fractal Paintings – Genesis and Development of the Series
My “Fractal” series was initially inspired by Sylvia Plath’s poem Edge (see here), which I found highly visual partly because of its fragmentary couplets. I’ve long been interested in the edges between things—water and sky, foliage and light, clouds softening mountain peaks, or the spray of water over rocks.
In Edge, Plath breaks her lines in a seemingly random way, which gave me the idea of breaking up the picture surface into horizontal strips, echoing the lines of a poem. For this piece, I mounted canvas onto wooden strips and painted those corresponding to her text, leaving the remaining parts blank like the untouched space of a page.
This led me to explore other ways of fragmenting the painted surface by cutting canvas-coated wood. Using disjointed backgrounds with human figures, I explore the distance between us, or how we are either broken or carried by chaos—or how we reorganize fragmented elements into something new. The figures are sometimes disrupted by the gaps between the strips or partially obscure the disorder behind them, suggesting a hidden layer or alternate “universe” visible only through the cracks.
Fractals are never-ending patterns. While my paintings don't literally replicate fractal geometry, the wooden strips often extend beyond the canvas’s edges, hinting that the fragmented picture space continues indefinitely (see here).
After Edge (two versions), I created Jump (see here), where a female figure leaps through an abstract, vertically striped landscape. This was followed by Man Spinning in a Fragmented Universe (see here).
I also experimented with cutting plywood using a fretsaw, creating shapes like the sea stacks seen in this piece. I liked how this cutting technique emphasizes the irredeemable separations between things—or between ourselves and others.