|
Works |
Entropy 220 Pounds This piece was an experiment in domestic entropy. A four-inch thick cinnamon carpet covered the floor of a 12x12 room. As the room was in the center of the gallery, people left a cinnamon map of their viewing itinerary. Each morning I would erase the previous days activity by sweeping all the cinnamon back into the room. Having used cinnamon before, I knew it triggered memories. The scale changed the tenor of the work. The smell bordered on violent. The dust and handprints on the walls of the room looked like dried blood. I measure the success of this work by the responses I received and continue to receive. These include: “My son still talks about your cinnamon room. Even now, after a year, it is his favorite art work ever.” “You changed everyone in this room. You have scared them. They will never forget this.” “So you’re the ‘Cinnamon Girl’. I sometimes still think I can smell traces of that work in the building, but it turns about to be someone’s cookies or latte.” |
WORKS
|
©Amber Ginsburg 2007-2012
amberginsburg [at] gmail [dot] com