My grandmother was a life-long hostess, and her presence reminds me of the colors, textures, and tastes of the family parties she threw several times a year. These events were highlighted by good food and good times with my extended family. Recently, an unexpected onset of dementia quickly stripped my grandmother of her identity and history, leaving her with the mental capacities of a child. This tablescape is a memorial to her identity, and serves as an imaginary attempt to reacquaint my grandmother with her former self. 

The meal appeals to a child’s overloaded senses, offering bright colors, exaggerated textures, and a sense of wonder and curiosity with food that can be disassembled, examined, and reassembled.  The same woodblock print is repeated throughout the space in various ways, tying together an otherwise disparate array of materials. At this table a dementia patient’s confusion is handled with surreal humor; who cares if you accidentally put the cake in the dishwasher- isn't that what drying racks are for?

 In the end this meal leaves the viewer unsatisfied and disillusioned, as they realize that their meal wasn't very good at all. With expectations raised by the sight of a glistening meal, a closer look reveals that it is all just fabric, wood, and paper.

As a Child
printed materials, mixed media, found objects
2012