In her first exhibition, Operable Chambers and Other Biological Fictions, which showed at Folley gallery in Chelsea last winter and early spring, she examines and fictionally depicts the inner-workings and systems of both body and mind, culminating in the series’ final piece, “Excerpts from the Incredible Machine” (shown on the previous page). To my eyes, her work is also surprisingly beautiful, almost luminous. But as Raintree notes in the interview below, this is one of its least important qualities to her. In fact, it may just be a random by-product of the complexity and detail she goes into when making her pieces, which suits her just fine.

How did you come to work in ink on paper, and what qualities about it do you like?
 
My drawings are predominantly done on handmade paper, using Rapidograph technical pens. Before computers, Rapidographs were the drafting tool of choice for architects and engineers, making my relationship to them feel like homage to a dying art. The irregularity of my paper interrupts the control of my pens, forcing me to adapt as works develop across the page. Before drawing, I made sculptural and digital works involving a repetitive manipulation of material, using fabrics, papers and layered high-res scans. The hook, for me, has always been that articulation, texture and detail and their accumulative effects over time.

I love that your materials force you to adjust the development of each piece, and it sounds as if it occurs randomly as you work. Of course, an essential part of any creative process is being open to the work taking control and leading you somewhere unexpected. But there’s something interesting about your allowing that power to reside in the materials themselves in addition to what we generally refer to as inspiration. Have you thought about this interplay between outer and inner forces shaping your work?

To speak in metaphor, you can start with identical genetic material and end with variation you can’t predict. Mistakes happen all of the time in my work, and my materials and process certainly encourage this. Every glitch informs the direction of a piece. I rarely sketch elements or compositions before putting pen to paper. If most invention comes from a need to adapt, it’s all the better when my materials can introduce these conditions.