Fragments

These fragments I have shored against my ruins—T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Gather up the fragments that nothing may be lost—John 6:12

The idea that nothing is too far gone or beyond redemption is a common theme in my work.

Growing up I watched my father do tile and stonework, a process that requires precision for pattern and an understanding of materials. My grandfather, a surgeon, always answered honestly and in detail, the many questions I had about the diagnosis of patients, and how cutting them open and stitching them back together made them better. A combination of these two processes merged as I was studying art in college. I took a collage class taught by artist Mary McCleary, and it became a gateway for me. Later, I became a caregiver to grandparents and family members as their memories and health faded. This was a learning lesson in appreciation of the temporariness of all things around me. The decision to have faith and believe in something bigger than myself pushes me to question the future and my place in it.

I primarily use old and discarded wallpaper removed from homes being remodeled or torn down as a medium. There is a level of familiarity and nostalgia in the material that I recognize without pretense. I use the format of a quilt and its patterns, known for its story telling platform, as a way to explore ideas from poems, old movies, and memory. When something from the past resonates as relevant, it creates an ethereal connection. That connection is what I seek to replicate. For me, stitching together the pieces of someone else's home to create something new that will ultimately be displayed in another home is a beautiful way to honor the past, present, and future. A way to bind together time and space.

The labor intensiveness of hand stitching allows me to share the hand of the artist with the viewer. Always striving for craftsmanship, but allowing imperfections to be highlighted. As each piece develops, there is a constant back and forth with the composition and the fragility of the wallpaper, making repairs and improvising along the way. The color of the material is never altered, never taking away or adding to its obvious signs of age and wear. Often faded, stained, or dirty, there is an honesty I want to showcase through its palette. In a world of instant gratification, I get a real satisfaction from the rebellion of such a time consuming process.

At the end of the day, these works are the simple act of seeking beauty in what is lost and forgotten as a study to better understand the world around me.

Ashley Stanaland Canty holds a BFA in studio art from Stephen F. Austin State University. Her work is in private collections throughout the United States and internationally. She maintains a working studio in her home town of Nacogdoches, Texas.