V U L C A N

About this work:

Following “Houston, We Have a Winner” this was the next step in the dimensional evolution of my work, as here the work varies in width and depth. Also like “Houston,…” I chose to adhere patterned fabric to its surface. Here, left the fabric mostly exposed, pleased with the erratic way the pinpoint dots dance around on the surface, creating a visual vibration that establishes a sense of drama, in contrast to the clean lines on the left side of the work. This drama is heightened on the right side of the work, in the white border on that side which both emphasizes the variation in depth and the sharp contrast between light and dark also makes the physical variation in depth seem somewhat illusionistic, as especially when the work is hung on a white wall, the side becomes one with the wall. in contrast to this, on the front, the work’s composition relates to its overall form in that the lines demarcating the two hemispheres of the work match their adjacent side, and the resulting composition is somewhat V-shaped, I titled this work “V U L C A N” as a reference to Star Trek, to the Vulcan symbol of peace: “live long and prosper”, and to hand signs in art, like the one depicted in Dürer’s third self-portrait, which itself was a reference to Christ’s hands in countless Byzantine, Gothic, and Early Renaissance depictions in which HIs hand signs revealed very specific meanings of benediction and blessing—all which could be considered to be an early form of sign language, at times, such as in Christ Pantocrator in the Hagia Sophia , literally spelling out the first and last letters of Jesus Christ in Greek “ICXC”—Dürer was doing the same thing with his own initials (A,D) in his self-portrait. “V U L C A N” is also a reference Diego Velazquez’s “Apollo in the Forge of the Vulcan”—the white lines form a regular rhythm of a blacksmiths’ hammer—a hammer on an anvil would be considered a percussion instrument, as is a piano, in this work the spaces in between The White Stripes resemble Black Keys (get it?). From here, rabbit holes in my mind go to synesthesia (how much does one’s perception of a steady rhythmic sound vary if it slowly increases or decreases in time?) and to Vulcan, who at the time of Apollo’s visit was making armor for Mars, the god of war, which brings me back around to Star Trek, both in thinking of the planet named after that god and of space travel, and of the contrast of war and peace, and the Vulcan symbol of peace. Even in its simplicity, this work reaches out beyond the limits of time to connect with the wealth of human history, religion and mythology, and those giants on whose shoulders I now stand as I “boldly go where no man has gone before.”

The kerning for the title “V U L C A N” is extremely wide because in my mind I picture it as the opening credits for a movie, the letters stretching out before they fade into the background.