A form that is collapsible continues to collapse onto itself. Exoskeletal divides are made upon an ancient invention. Through the loss of their serviceability, tables expire belly up, like insects dying on their backs.
“lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curlèd state unfold,
Translated to a vase of gold;
In burning throne though they keep still
Serenities unthawed and chill.” 1
A flattened form is amplified by further flattening. We become estranged from what is in front of us. Seaweed’s undulations, what once inspirited Art Nouveau’s ‘whiplash’, are now broken down into sheets of pressed particles. Collaged together like the horizontal rows of lamellar armor, they devise a second skin.
1. Francis Thompson, Gilded Gold, Stanza 1.
Anne Libby was born in Los Angeles, California and currently lives and works in Brooklyn, New York. She received her BFA at RISD in 2009 and is a Bard MFA 2016 candidate. She has exhibited her work most recently at U.S. Blues and 247365 in New York City and had a solo show at Violet's Cafe in February of 2015.