Lisa Carroll

Statement of an Artist

I am the mother of a toddler therefor I am in a constant state of being preoccupied. Every thought is tangential to one another. I am still struck by the design of decay in leaves; crisp brown dots scattered across red, green and yellow cellulose. When will this be incorporated into my work? It's been years. In 1991 the writer Annie Dillard mentions to her then seven-year-old daughter that 138,000 people died that day in a tidal wave on the other side of the world. Her daughter responds that it is not hard to imagine, "lots and lots of dots, in blue water."

Whether sculpture, drawing, collage or installation repetition is the function. Sometimes the repeating is all consuming and abundant, a field of marks. Other times it is more minimal, pared down to the essential, an ecosystem as small as a desert island a few miles wide with a crucial sampling of flora and fauna. It is my life practice to pare down to the essential. I think I must stray every time I eat ice cream. Then again, maybe that's one of the repeats. Certainly taking vacations in Hawaii are essential.

The waters off Puerto Rico are filled with tiny phosphorescent plankton. Lots and lots of dots in black water (because you can only see them at night). I saw them once in Massachusetts Bay. I was young and thought the stars were shedding. Ankles deep in midnight water the ocean pushed the phosphorescence onto the wetted sand. I scooped up the sand with a few twinkling captives and ran to show my father under the porch light. A pile of sand, the color of the caramel candy Grandma always ate. Who has taken whom captive?

Sneaking hints of a manifesto: I am not convinced of the position of artists and their art in this culture. I used to work in a museum where objects sit in various states of decay, repair and perhaps perfection. There are those that are coveted by the curators, registrars, designers and such but many seem to lurk forgotten, huddled in dusty clutters. What is it that makes these art world professionals covet specific objects? What is it that makes these people art world professionals and not teachers or priests? As I worked in this place which houses art and employs people who study art and artists I remained anonymous, more janitor and laborer. I prefer the anonymity; the dichotomy beguiles and becomes fodder.

Lunchtime on the lawn I watch two butterflies spiral, mimic and agitate the other's air. A robin comes hopping across the grass and stops near my outstretched feet. He seems to peer at me like a begging dog. A very old man repeats his daily cycle through the grounds; delicate of hand he picks at the top layer in every trash barrel for cans. He sits in the same three spots and watches, without expression, the children play.

In time, all things connect.

Lisa Carroll
Lisack@hotmail.com
MFA Stanford University 1998 BFA Boston College 1991

Current projects: drawings and installations based on the information of maps; The Cookie Project (photographic portraits); miniature collages made with pages from thrown out books and an assortment of paper trash; "Where are you?" The Letter Project; paint chip installations; and site-specific/people specific installations in private homes.