Sophia Mason Artist Statement
My sculptures won’t offend your pious grandma, at least, not right away. She’ll see soft, pleasant, domestic objects that I’ve idealistically embellished to find comfort in my convoluted faith. In fact, these forms reflect our grandmothers’ hard work, the advantages of store-bought goods they sacrificed for and the hand-stitching they learned as girls.
But these forms are not for your religious grandma. You love and care for her, but your life is not for her. Neither are these sculptures. While I find comfort and humility behind my grandma’s sewing machine, I battle with pride and anger where her religion holds us both down. I have the skills she nurtured, but undervalued ones. I have her place in an infinite cosmology, but it excludes the diversity of my generation. Religion used to calm and ignite me, but now I hopelessly stuff meaning into contrived seams.
These pieces then are for younger bodies who still carry the facial features of our grandmothers, or the tunes of their hymns and prayers on our lips. These sculptural works advertise our ancestral traditions, just with our own, younger, disillusioned hindsight as well.
But these forms are not for your religious grandma. You love and care for her, but your life is not for her. Neither are these sculptures. While I find comfort and humility behind my grandma’s sewing machine, I battle with pride and anger where her religion holds us both down. I have the skills she nurtured, but undervalued ones. I have her place in an infinite cosmology, but it excludes the diversity of my generation. Religion used to calm and ignite me, but now I hopelessly stuff meaning into contrived seams.
These pieces then are for younger bodies who still carry the facial features of our grandmothers, or the tunes of their hymns and prayers on our lips. These sculptural works advertise our ancestral traditions, just with our own, younger, disillusioned hindsight as well.
