Every night, I go to the same dream world—I kid you not. In Dreamland, I visit the same places, buildings, spaces, objects, and, on occasion, people. It is a world of familiarity that exists solely in my imagination and undergoes alterations or changes only when I am deeply affected on a core level. I have made only one map of Dreamland, and it is currently in the possession of a Bard who temporarily resides in Texas.
I realize this may be a strange introduction for an artist statement, but as a project-based artist, I promise it is relevant.
As an artist, I am a dreamer of worlds that offer a safe place—a moment—for viewers to softly surrender.
Interested in emotional landscapes (to borrow a line from Björk), I draw inspiration from my past life as an art conservation technician, where I lent my talents to in-painting historic theater backdrops. I am captivated by the romanticism of landscapes framed by decoration—intimate portals onto which I project/incorperate daily limerence (i.e., obsessive thoughts about objects, ideas, people, or, more often, current events).
I began my career with a background in alternative process photography but quickly found success in large-scale textile sculptural installations. I am in love with layers, textures, and embellishments—a passion visible in my sewn pieces as well as my sound projects, paintings, video projects, and performance work. It is through various forms of mark-making that I explore themes related to memory, identity, place-keeping (i.e., tending), and uncertainty.
My current projects are inspired by two paintings: The Lotus Eaters by Thomas Moran and An Eruption of Vesuvius by Johan Christian Dahl.
The former interests me due to its placement of the viewer on the island, looking out at the ocean with a ship in the distance. It suggests that we, the viewers, are the lotus eaters—a scene that feels apropos to our current reality of dissociating through our cell phones and social media (sources of dopamine, i.e., the lotus) as the world burns around us.
Wildfires and smoke have begun creeping into my subject matter. This began when the Canadian wildfire smoke altered the atmosphere around my home in Vermont a few summers ago. The beauty of the smoky light is eerie and ominous, much like the feeling evoked by Johan Dahl’s painting. An Eruption of Vesuvius exemplifies the untenable sublime—beautiful destruction in the context of generative restoration. The fantasy nerd in me, can’t help but symbollically connect this vision to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings where the ring of power must be destoryed in the place where it was created, ie. the volcano fires of Mount Doom. It's a reminder that fire can serve as both a destructive and restorative metaphor for life in a contemporary and unprecedented context, particularly concerning environmental and geopolitical issues. I think of my work in relation to this not as something specifically mission driven, but as something adjacent and in conversation with our current events.
So why is all of this important? Why do Dreamland, Lotus Eaters, Fire, Portals, Flowers, Volcanoes, and Scenic Landscapes matter? These concepts are about transformation and escapism. They revolve around shifting states, otherworldliness, and resilience, highlighting the tension between destruction and creation, survival and renewal.
I’d like to think that what I am doing as a painter—and what I will soon revisit in another installation project incorporating objects, projections, and sound—is a wild untending of pleasureable persuits. I am creating spaces or moments where viewers feel safe enough to let go, to lean into a sense of wonder and awe and curiosity. I believe these portals in time momentarily connect us to something beyond the limits of our current circumstances. They are liminal place holders for pause, reflection, and restoration.
b. 1980, Houston, TX
B.A. University of Chicago
M.F.A. Massachusetts College of Art and Design
Wylie Garcia is a queer, mexican-swedish-american artist living and working in Vermont. She/They are the recipient of many artist grants and fellowships; most notably a Pollock-Krasner Foundation Grant, several Vermont Arts Council Creation Grants, a St. Botolph Club Foundation Artist Grant, and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Fellowship to the Vermont Studio Center. Their work can be found in the permanent collections of the Fleming Museum, the University of Vermont Medical Center, and Georgetown College.