When Walls Speak

For as long as I can recall, the walls have been bathed in an archive of my mother’s work. An amassing of feminist expression, the multitude of women embodied through her practice have been present at each moment of my life. Framed above the fireplace and lining the hallways, each have played a role in raising me. Work such as my mother’s, which is inherently political, personal and proud, creates an echo chamber. The sustained voices of women past, present and future, vibrate from the walls and fill the air with unbridled honesty. Absinthe and Absence is a thoughtful distillation of these echoes, rippling from the core of Irish Feminism.

Entering the exhibition, we are met by a wall. Heavy and confrontational, it carries a complex dichotomy of feminine liberation and patriarchal oppression. Delicate yet sharp, the hand-painted pattern of The C*nty Wallpaper overlays it. The titling is linguistically layered, as c*nt remains one of the most offensive words in the Western Hemisphere. This stemmed from Christian preachings of the vagina as a source of evil. Over the years, those who stand against gendered shaming have reclaimed c*nt as a word of empowerment, from Eve Ensler’s ‘The Vagina Monologues’ to contemporary Queer Culture. In this exhibit the iconographic vulva appears enriched by physical care, anchoring the space with feminine strength. Its grounds us again in The Potato Peeler, an honoring of female labor, printed from wood which is carved by the same sweep of a blade.

Upon the wall, The C*nty Wallpaper is an acknowledgment of systematic oppression, punctuated by the circular canvas encasing Zeus the Bollix. Deceptively beautiful in its appearance, this piece is an emblem of the patriarchal violence portrayed through the myth of Leda and the Swan. It’s thematics are dark and difficult, yet the branding of a wall in decorative vulvas is overtly joyous and playful. Flowing abundantly, a wave of subtle humor ebbs across the work, offering itself as a subversive tool for pain; an invitation to reclaim agency by laughing in the midst of adversity.

The use of symbolism in Absinthe and Absence is like kindling. Ignited by the burning gut of Catholicism in Ireland, the work spreads these stories with a sensitive assertion, one which words could never do justice. I think specifically to the small forlorn woman perched upon the back wall. Absinthe Mary emits a glow of sickly green, her body saturated by vices. She is easily overlooked, as her grief outgrows her capacity, blooming into large-scale hydrangeas, Absinthe 1 and Absinthe 2. Enclosed by these works at a safe distance, Mary’s gaze is fixed outward, landing gently upon the flock of sculptural works before her. A small child found in a vast abyss, a production line of commodified babies, and an engulfing march of nuns, these works highlight our shameful treatment of women and children. Settled upon plinths which rise upward from the floor, perhaps these are the roots of Mary’s grief.

Adorning the walls and bearing witness, the paintings of this exhibit sit temporally adjacent to the sculptural works. A soaked trench coat After the Storm, a burning horizon on a Borrowed Landscape, and a struggle for breath amidst Parasites, these works capture contemporary complications of feminine experience. Although each depicts a likeness of my mother, she stands selflessly in the place of others. A vessel of ontology, so that women may be heard without ever needing to speak. Ignored pleas and disregarded complaints, A Chronical of Pain brings internal wounds to a fleshy surface, visceral and impossible to ignore. Embodying stances of serenity and amenability, these paintings offer us their vulnerability. Hold it gently in your clutch as you walk amongst the walls.

Above the fireplace and lining the hallways are the gaps where these works resided. Existing now in public space, the air around my mother’s work is richer. You can feel the radiating heat of brutal realities, the soothing warmth of celebration, and the gentle vibration of echoes. The presence of each body, and the attentiveness of every glance contributes to the echo chamber. Listen closely for the hum of the walls and hear the voices focalize, past, present and future.

by Kat Lalor