work from shows of the last few years.

Woody’s bent ride to the sky and its gorgeous shadow 2018

the wind spinners, Woody and Pinky

MakeShift Festival
Tenney Park in Madison, WI
August 12, 2018

There’s not a stitch of handmade paper in the piece above - just bent luan, epoxy resin, spray paint, piping, free spin roller bearings. It's one of 2 spinning sculptures we made for  MakeShift Festival - food with a little public art - in Madison's Tenney Park on Sunday August 12, 2018. This one is about 6' high. The one below is 8'.

Pinky, or Streaking and scattering the wind and the sun with Woody in the background 2018

The other spinner has some handmade paper (the yellow and blue & green form with bamboo ribs), but is mostly fiberglass fabric and tinted resin.

We are really pleased with both spinners against the blue skies, park greenery and white booth roofs. We got the scale right, too. Too small they’d look like propeller hats.

Thank you to Bethany Jurewicz for her work making MakeShift a success as well as for her support and enthusiasm for our project.

LandesSullivan at gmail.com


2018 Makeshift Festival Madison WI - art, food and people August 12 in Tenney Park


Hair Trigger Eternities

Playhouse Gallery, Overture Center for the Arts
Madison, WI
Summer, 2016

 

Looking for God and covering all that we can
2016 handmade cotton papers around pink foam board shape, suspended by hemp rope. lighting - and the Franz Kline shadow - courtesy of the Overture Center's Broadway-quality lighting people.

 

a view of How to speak reassuringly in always uncertain times from under Looking for God

Hair-trigger Eternities was curated by the Overture's Beth Racette and up from June 27 to September 4, 2016. We showed alongside Caryn Ann Bendrick and Marissa Mackey. The title comes from a passage in Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer. "In this sort of hair-trigger eternity I felt that everything was justified, supremely justified . . . " That is the feeling we seek in our work.

We showed 4 works.

No simple pedestal would do for How to speak reassuringly in always uncertain times. We wanted the paper covered form tilted just so; thus the base had to be tailored. The base provides a surface contrast to the papered form. Both sculpture and pedestal share with uneasy times a rickety equilibrium.

The work stands taller than the adjacent 9' high hallway so the viewer can’t see it complete until one gets fairly close much as one might approach closer to a speaker to hear every word.

the pedestal of How to speak reassuringly

the beginnings of a paper wrapped foam form

 

3 of our pieces began as shapes cut from pink insulation foam board that we had scattered about the floor, rearranged again and again. We pinned together arrangements with skewers and hot-glued them. Then we covered these foam forms in handmade papers.

The resultant forms certainly looked like sculpture, ready to be frozen in place atop a bland and boxy pedestal. At the same time, they seemed meant to be interacting with something. Instead of showing sculptural specimens, we wanted to show objects doing, balancing, hanging. Their installation provides a context and is very much part of the piece.

The gallery below has some installation shots. 

the wire and stick that separates us 2016

out on a limb with building blocks 2016


 Happy as I can be

Little Monroe Gallery
Madison, WI
May, June 2016

The Little Galleries are designed to have little artworks put inside them. That seemed too confining, so for the one outside Monroe Street Framing, we decided to use the gallery box as a form to be wrapped with paper and wood and lit up at night. The Little Galleries are run by Rachel Bruya and Jeremy Wineberg and supported by Monroe Street Framing.

LandesSullivan at gmail.com

Our red and yellow plywood arches rest on the lid of the gallery box like a crown. We glued and wrapped paper and wood to the glass sides.

We lined the inside with cast scraps of abaca papers to glow with translucence when lit up at night.

The gallery box became our armature for tightly stretching abaca to hide and reveal what is beneath.