Entering Katie Yancey’s installation is stepping into its own ecosphere. An innately organic experience, you feel the soil beneath your feet, the algae under your fingernails—a forest in a bathtub. Each of the five screens, ripe with Yancey’s marriage of auditory and visual sculptures, devour and demand your attention. The seemingly random and chaotic placement of colored tape, houseplants, tapestries, and shadow play is anything but random. There is intention behind each movement. The sound from each of the pieces faintly bleeds in the connecting spaces, pooling about you waves of sporadic dissonant chords. The artist materializing in a batik onesie or a glimpsing her painted toes reminds you there is flesh and blood behind the linens lazily draped and lifted against wilting weeds and sunbaked rocks, repositioning your attention to yet another layer of this inexplicable and captivating onion.
By Brittney Ferrero
Photography by Skyler J. Edwards