Joyce McDaniel

1. Pockets of Silence, 1996
Handmade paper, wax, stone, lead. 34x22x8 inches, 86x56x20 centimeters

2. Letter to a Young Poet, 1994
Handmade paper, steel, stones. 24x14x10 inches, 61x36x25 centimeters

3. Wishful Palindrome, 2000
Steel, handmade paper, bronze. 16x12x8 inches, 41x30x20 centimeters

4. Imprinted Memories, 2000
Steel, handmade paper, lead type. 18x6x16 inches, 46x15x41 centimeters

For some years, I have been exploring the sculptural and metaphorical possibilities of an unusual material for art-making—dressmaker pattern paper. By combining patterns with steel, lead, wax, and handmade paper, I transform this fragile, ochre-colored tissue, replete with black marks and directions, into both large and intimate-scaled sculpture. Pattern paper—a material associated closely with women—carries meaning that goes far beyond fashion. When transformed into sculpture, it speaks in a language of form, space, and materials about multi-layered patterns of behavior, patterns of communication, and cultural patterns of restraint.

This work investigates patterns of communication and connection which inform all of our lives. The sculpture takes as its departure point written forms of communication (or lack thereof)—letters, memoirs, and silence. Sculpture, for me, can say what words cannot. Some of the challenges I address are: How does one write a letter in three-dimensional space with physical materials? How does one give form to silence? Is a sculptor really a poet who works physically?

Despite efforts to change the patterns (I ripped them and crushed them into small pieces and embedded them into handmade paper), they remain, partially visible, bearing the weight of memory and history. In several pieces, ponderous forms pendulate beneath the fragile paper, setting up a tension between lightweight, fragile “pages” bearing the heavy burdens of lead, steel, stone, or words unuttered. In another work, words are muffled under layers of wax in paper pockets. The pattern covered stones hanging from the sides of each pocket give weight to silence.

My sculpture, whether counting or recounting, speaks of meditations on memory, measurement, and language. Here there are no answers, only questions.