LC: You have a varied practice as a sculptor, writer, and arts administrator. Much of your work references the American domestic landscape. Can you talk about what has led you in this direction and how it is expressed in your artwork?

SB: I have always been interested in domestic life; from the relationships we have with and within a home, its architecture and the systems that have shaped the behavior, traditions and faults of the American neighborhood. My relationship to this subject matter is deeply rooted in personal experience and observation; having grown up in a Midwestern suburb, where a difficult divorce between my parents, complicated living arrangements, and multiple moves shaped my perception of domestic life. These experiences left me critical of American ideals and the performative aspects of it all. In recent years, with the advent of homeownership, a pandemic, and contentious elections, I am increasingly aware of the gray areas of private and public life. The yard, and windows, are used to express one’s values, rules, boundaries, and beliefs. The way others communicate in areas of proximity to their private lives tells a story about the place, people, and purpose of that environment. When I create a stained glass window, I’m reflecting on the role of a particular vantage point, and am considering the power dynamics of the gaze between those inside, and outside, the home.

LC: You have chosen to custom create two of your pieces, To Each is Owned, and Home Away From Home, to fit directly into the existing windows on the main floor of this historic mill building. This is your first time exhibiting your work at the Wassaic Project. Were you familiar with the building before applying to be included in the exhibition? How do you see your work interacting with the building itself and its interior and exterior space?

SB: This was my first time working with Wassaic and had not visited the building prior to installation, so my understanding of the environment was limited to a Google Maps deep-dive and conversations with staff and former residents. After toying with a few phrases, I landed on ‘Home Away From Home’ and ‘PROPERTY/PROPERTY ‘with portions of the text reversed. With the latter (entitled, ‘To Each is Owned’), the use of red, capitalized text is a mechanism for immediate attention and the bands of pattern reflect the degree of separation between the building, trails, tracks, road, homes, and the landscape. ‘Home Away From Home’ is similar in that it can be read from private and public spaces, however its exclusive use of clear glass suggests a quieter interpretation of one’s relationship to the building and surroundings. For those passing the building, I wanted the windows to be a subtle surprise and feel as though they have been there all along.

LC: In the four works that you are showing in this exhibition, you are using the stained glass technique. This is a traditional and technically demanding medium that you are employing in a playful way with a beautifully modern and graphically clean aesthetic. What attracted you to working in stained glass and what associations do you have with the material and technique?

SB: Admittedly, I am still very new to the medium! I began using stained glass about two years ago, but it really started the same way a lot of my work does: a walk through my neighborhood. I was looking at ways people were activating their windows - through signs, art, printed messages for the delivery driver, security stickers - and I had this thought, ‘What if we were so committed to these messages, that they were built into the architecture of our homes?’ It certainly feels that way. And so began my series of interpreting signage as stained glass windows. I love working with stained glass. I feel like most folks identify it as something sacred, reserved for religious spaces and imagery. There’s also a little bit of mystery around the material, too; both in construction methods and its fragility. For the purposes of my work, I’m really looking to domestic stained glass, pulling inspiration from Frank Lloyd Wright’s prairie style and ethos of ‘windows as screens.’ The glass allows for the viewer to engage in the act of viewing through something, not just at something. The glass actively participates with its surroundings; blurring, coloring, obscuring the image it frames. Changing daylight gives life to the glass; glowing for attention, an illumination for those in, and out. The stained glass pieces are fitted into salvaged aluminum window frames, grounding the work domestically, and giving it a nice contrast between high-low craft.

LC: Typography and language often play a part in your work. In several of your stained-glass pieces some of the words are shown in reverse. What effect is this intended to have on our perception of the quotidian nature of the words themselves?

SB: When looking at, or through, a window, there is a shift in perspective that I think holds a lot of potential. There are also power dynamics involved; who is on the ‘inside’ and who is on the ‘outside.’ Reversing the text heightens this back-and-forth, acknowledging that the shared space of a window can be seen, enjoyed, shared with those on the opposite side; and that the messaging is intended for all parties. I’m also interested in the idea that in order for someone to ‘see’ the full message, they must move, shift, change positions to see the full image or phrase. When creating, I’m constantly considering who these messages are for, who holds the power, who gets to decide where and how things are communicated, enforced, or seen. I tend to distill the language to its most basic form; omitting or reiterating a word or phrase to reveal its charged nature. This creates a somewhat accessible, universal starting point for the viewer to reflect on.

LC: In your piece, Staring Contest (Duo), a pair of stained-glass eyes are hanging in adjacent existing windows on one of the upper floors of the mill and the eyes stare both in and out of the building. What inspired you to create this piece and install it in this way?

SB: The graphic is pulled from traditional ‘Neighborhood Watch’ signage. The ‘watching eye’ is a motif I’ve used in other works, and my relationship to this icon is one of curiosity and criticism. The origin of these signs was intended for public safety, but are often interpreted as a form of surveillance, and evoke a feeling of discomfort. For me, these signs are a blurred line between care and caution; safety and suspicion. There’s something quite striking about having this graphic so high up; they almost personify the building, and I suppose whatever emotion the viewer is feeling impacts how they may be interpreted. If someone viewing the works is familiar with the space, familiar with Wassaic and feels comfortable, they may see these eyes as a silly addition. On the flip-side, if someone has stumbled into an unfamiliar town, perhaps without any context, the work may feel more aggressive, looming. From outside, the eyes are very high, and on the 5th floor, they are slightly closer, but still out of reach. Upon closer inspection, you’ll also notice that the iris of the eye is left open, exposing the sky and landscape when viewing from the inside. The two ways of experiencing the work varies greatly and I think tells two different stories given the building and scale of the overall installation.