(light music) - I think a lot about the term body anxiety. I think about sitting in the backseat of a car as a kid in like shorts, right? And you get up and like your leg just sticks to the vinyl. Knowing that there's something about you that might appear gross to others is a pretty universal feeling. (light music continues) We're all like moving around in these flesh cages that are essentially vulnerable. (light music continues) A lot of the processes I use in the studio are things that exist, but also I kind of made up, or I'm not using them exactly the way that you're supposed to. I do a lot of grinding metal and welding it together and grinding it again, and a lot of that is to avoid casting metal, which is usually very expensive. I'm often figuring out a new method of what's often a very traditional process and in that way I think of myself as kind of a professional amateur. (light music) I can remember being in middle school, maybe even younger, like 10 or 11, and finding a book that my mom had that was like a history of chair design. I would kind of go through it and mark all the pages with pictures that I was into and you know, my parents noticed that and got me a couple other chair books. I became more interested in modernist design and through that started working in mostly tubular steel. It's a industrial material that's become so ubiquitous, it's almost invisible. A lot of the time when I start with a sculpture, I'm thinking about something organic, interacting with something that looks kind of industrial, something soft and something hard. I like that when something looks like it's being pushed or pulled or squeezed in a sculpture, that really is what's happening. The silicone is being pushed or pulled or squeezed in those directions. - So the hottest part is that tip, - Yeah. - Right. So I think if we, if we come in straight up and down, you're definitely gonna get that hot bit's gonna really like- - Okay. - Droop over - the more droop the better. - Whereas... yeah. - I've also started working in glass. The main difference is that it's kind of frozen in time. In that moment of the sag or flop or squeeze. My attraction to the gourds initially really came from their like kind of unique warty texture. It's rare to see fruit or vegetable just come out of the earth and already have this kind of diseased, almost tumor like look. (light music) For these pieces I was really thinking about adaptive structures that we may or may not be aware of, but are very ubiquitous in the built environment. I was playing off of the handrails that exist in a staircase or might be the kind of ADA handrails that are in a bathroom. Most of my work comes from two or three different reference points for me. I was looking at Hector Guimard's Paris train station streetlights. (light music continues) And I was also looking at the hoyer lifts that you would use to lift someone who might be bedbound from a bed to a chair. I think with these objects there's this kind of knowledge that if they're not something that you require in your life now to be mobile, you will at some point. So we all have this relationship to them that is one of kind of inevitability to a certain degree. (light music continues) My dad had ALS, which is a disease where you slowly become completely paralyzed, and so watching that progression happen, these adaptive elements went from barely noticed parts of the built environment to, you know, really necessary elements to move around. To me, there's this very visceral moment that can lead itself to this kind of sculptural way of thinking around the way that a body interacts with the furniture and its environment. These stilt sculptures, they suggest a wearer who's essentially balanced on these very precarious looking bird legs. Navigating these equally dramatic and difficult to use handrails. (light music continues) A lot of the pieces that I make, they are objects that we are all familiar with, but maybe out of context you take something that is really familiar and make it kind of visible again. (light music continues)