TOYNADO at Elsewhere Artists Collaborative
Toynado is a whipped up frenzy, a massive vortex emanating from the ceiling inside an attic room that was found as-is inside the living museum of Elsewhere Artists Collaborative.
Elsewhere’s dynamic architectures and the immense 58-year collection of American cultural objects (thousands of toys, books, periodicals, clothing, fabric, games, trinkets, bric-a-brac, furniture, antiques, army surplus, and historical documents) housed on-site serve as a resource the creation of new works. Hidden within this mass of objects lies a historical narrative about the depression’s effect on notions of hoarding, possession and ownership, an economic narrative about overproduction and waste, and a cultural narrative written in attics and basements across the country.
Eight months previous to my residency at Elsewhere I had a vision: Toynado. This idea arrived complete within my mind- a sculptural installation set inside a room. I had no idea if it was even logistically possible. Upon my arrival at Elsewhere, almost a year later, I found very few toys represented in the massive collections and endless rooms of Elsewhere. I assumed the building of Toynado would not be possible. It was only later, in the middle of the night, as I conveyed my idea to an Elsewhere intern that I was informed of “the baby-war room”. The baby-war room was a disturbing attic room wherein the former matron of Elsewhere had kept toys, before it had been turned into a museum. It literally looked as if every toy ever made had been deployed into this claustrophobic space and had engaged in a massively violent war. This room was in fact so disturbing, people would not go in, and it had remained as it was, with the door firmly closed, until my arrival.
The largest toys congregate at the ceiling in a tight undulating spiraling formation until the smallest toy makes contact with the floor. The radial cracks in the walls, and the plaster that seems blown off the ceiling by violent force was found, as-is. This perfect environmental frame seems almost to prevent any other work from ever being possible there.
More than any other work I have ever created, this one seemed driven by forces beyond myself. On the night of Toynado’s unveiling, two tornados touched down in Greensboro, where Toynado is located. The astonishment of everyone involved as well as the public who attended the opening event, was palpable. This permanent installation can still be seen today at Elsewhere Artist's Collaborative, NC.
Elsewhere’s dynamic architectures and the immense 58-year collection of American cultural objects (thousands of toys, books, periodicals, clothing, fabric, games, trinkets, bric-a-brac, furniture, antiques, army surplus, and historical documents) housed on-site serve as a resource the creation of new works. Hidden within this mass of objects lies a historical narrative about the depression’s effect on notions of hoarding, possession and ownership, an economic narrative about overproduction and waste, and a cultural narrative written in attics and basements across the country.
Eight months previous to my residency at Elsewhere I had a vision: Toynado. This idea arrived complete within my mind- a sculptural installation set inside a room. I had no idea if it was even logistically possible. Upon my arrival at Elsewhere, almost a year later, I found very few toys represented in the massive collections and endless rooms of Elsewhere. I assumed the building of Toynado would not be possible. It was only later, in the middle of the night, as I conveyed my idea to an Elsewhere intern that I was informed of “the baby-war room”. The baby-war room was a disturbing attic room wherein the former matron of Elsewhere had kept toys, before it had been turned into a museum. It literally looked as if every toy ever made had been deployed into this claustrophobic space and had engaged in a massively violent war. This room was in fact so disturbing, people would not go in, and it had remained as it was, with the door firmly closed, until my arrival.
The largest toys congregate at the ceiling in a tight undulating spiraling formation until the smallest toy makes contact with the floor. The radial cracks in the walls, and the plaster that seems blown off the ceiling by violent force was found, as-is. This perfect environmental frame seems almost to prevent any other work from ever being possible there.
More than any other work I have ever created, this one seemed driven by forces beyond myself. On the night of Toynado’s unveiling, two tornados touched down in Greensboro, where Toynado is located. The astonishment of everyone involved as well as the public who attended the opening event, was palpable. This permanent installation can still be seen today at Elsewhere Artist's Collaborative, NC.
