Ongoing since 2011
Shown loosely in chronological order with the most recent at the top

Each work:
Canvas, paper, embroidery floss, graphite
15 x 20 inches


Each work consists of four quadrants and has two or three lines of text. There are no spaces between words, which slows down reading. Sometimes one might distinguish a word inside another, or a word that arises from the proximity of two words. In some of the Words From Obituaries the enjambment happens mid-word, which is a welcome outcome.


In 2010 I started an archive of obituaries, which I loosely classify according to a typology of professions. I codify groups of related occupations in different colors: for example, persons whose work was dedicated to language (poets, translators, linguists, writers…) are classified in pink; those who worked in scientific exploration (astronauts, physicists…) are classified in green, and so on. I embroider words chosen from particular obituaries in shades of the color corresponding to the profession of the person deceased. No “life-work” can be neatly classified. Persons are remembered for all kinds of things, some of which could be unspeakable, as in war crimes. Some people engaged in life work, such as philanthropy, which could be considered vocational, rather than professional. When systems of classification get messy—and they will—they become interesting. Why? The mess illuminates the fact that a human life (or whatever is being classified) is irreducible to one single, compelling account.

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words from obituaries, text textile
Canvas, paper, embroidery floss, graphite
15 x 20 inches
Exhibition view of Words From Obituaries
Exhibition of Words From Obituaries, Alpineum Produzentengalerie, Lucerne, Switzerland

As I sort through hundreds of obituaries I find, in a few of them, samplings of phrases that are just right. They seize a moment in language that operates both within and outside the source. I do not choose these words for their narrative or honorific value, but rather for an urgency that is external, yet related, to those values.

Each finished piece measures 15 x 20 inches; what may vary is the number of letters and therefore the number of rows. I don't add or change words, however I remove the spaces between words and, if present, take out punctuation marks. Some words are fragmented between rows of text. All this provokes an expanded reading where words arise from within words, and letters latch onto letters in adjacent words. SENSE and FORM shift: sometimes the letters are more apparent than the words, and vice-versa.