Observer Effect - Lillstreet Cafe
The original donated tiles were all wildly unique. Lesley brought soda-fired snowflakes and an oval tile printed with an image of her grandmother. Laura gave an eye, ear and nose. An unknown artisan donated Celtic-like knotted creatures. Mary gave a geometric pattern on porcelain. Judy gave a number of rocks, and one covered in trilobites. Norbert left a note on top a series of relief-carved flowers. Lulu brought a series of lips and eyes, and a sweet pussy cat. I wasn't sure how to tie any of these together thematically or how to arrange them visually, as disparate as their shapes and subjects were, until Eric brought in a tall stack of math-centric tiles, which he said he made to replace a set of scribbled and sketched notes on index cards he’d been quite fond of. These theorems became the anchors to which everything is linked by a chain of mirror, each the center of its own microcosm. These intangible ideas are linked to each other via human or animal forms, upon a cascading rainbow background.
At the (off-center) center is a shard of one of Michael’s skulls, nipped from one of his donated warped mugs. Around one sunken eye, nasal cavity and front teeth, Dave’s Anthony Hopkins peers. It was Dave’s idea to smash his tile and piece it back together, skull shining through. From there, red and orange radiate outward, briefly touching on yellow and whites, then onto light, medium, and dark greens, blues into black on the right side, and blues into purples and reds, grays, then the uninterrupted galaxy of black on the left.
One night, in conversation with Fred about a title for the piece, he suggested something that spurred me on to discover the notion of “the Observer Effect.” I like this for a title for this piece, because as I was exploring and experimenting, working and deciding where to take these tiles, people would come in and say hi, sometimes staying to chat for awhile. This is different than my normal creative process, which is more isolated and not exactly open to input from passersby. This piece remained in a curious purgatory for me while I was putting it together. I wondered, was it too busy, would it be too distracting for students who are normally surrounded by walls splattered only with clay? I’m curious what impressions or influences this has on people working.