Sylvie Dakota Huhn

 

A Home by Sylvie Dakota Huhn

 

My process of painting involves building a skin. This skin is not smooth, but scabbed and rough with imperfections. Using acrylic and mixed media, I methodically build up surfaces of my paintings with layers of printed ephemera, incoherent mathematical equations, my handwritten trials of academia – the verbal and numerical information I could never retain in memory. I embalm these cluttered visual systems of data with washes of muted color as an attempt to bury chaos in the coexistence of exposure, protection and isolation. As the information under the skin of my paintings is covered and brought back to the surface, my subject matter is vulnerable and tried to hide behind the facades to protect against the slightest sting. The visual backgrounds of my paintings are based off of the pastoral landscapes I grew up around and see daily. But my mind doesn’t process these sceneries completely; the world appears as a disjointed blur. My landscapes are almost fragmented into obscure prospectives; their depths fade away into the muddled information below the surface.

In my drawings, I focus in from the landscape onto the protagonist exposed. These portraits of anthropomorphized domesticated animals represent nature sublimated. One’s emotional reality is tied to the social constructs of gender, and my hybrids do not identify as sexual beings and are ambivalent about their objectification.

 

Sylvie Dakota Huhn
Summer 2012