AMY BENNETT - STATEMENT

In 2002 I began a series of aerial view paintings of apartments.  Inspired by short stories, and game boards, I created floor plans to relate the dramas of residences in close proximity.  As reference for each painting, I made model apartments from foam core, and furnished them with dollhouse miniatures.  Over the past year, I have incorporated perspective and worked from a more normative point of view.  My current series of paintings depict one family living in a modest home, isolated in a wooded landscape. I am working with common themes such as transition, coming of age, domestic responsibilities, and loss.  I am interested in the awkwardness of a group of people trying to coexist and relate to one another, the fragility of relationships, and the uncertainty and anxiety of growing up.  In the same way that we develop our concept of home, I have created these images, through memory, personal experience and imagination.

For this series, I designed, constructed and decorated a 1:12 scale wooden model with a removable roof and walls.  Building the model prompts me to imagine the character of individual family members, as well as their relationships to each other in search of what it means to live in this house.  My imagination fills the house with history, memories of significant events or moments, traditions, and daily rituals.  I think: this is the room the sun floods every morning; this is the spot where the platter was thrown to the floor; this room used to be for sewing, but now there is a crib.  While adjusting my model for each painting, I am considering the narrative role of order versus disarray, and the potential to make the condition of the house and arrangement of objects describe the occupants as well as consequences of incident.  The model becomes a stage on which to develop the psychological implications of belonging to a particular family, with all of its dramas, struggles and familiar routines. Rather than illustrating these moments specifically, I attempt to invoke the feelings they elicit.  I am exploring how distance between characters in compartmentalized spaces can create tension or a sense of tenderness, doubt, humor, or isolation.

One of my challenges is to invite the viewer to form his or her own connection and narrative.  By removing a wall or ceiling, the viewer is privileged to explore a fictitious family’s private life, a home that is simultaneously cozy and unsettling.  The house becomes a fishbowl, whereby the viewer may empathize with the occupants’ seemingly mundane existence.