Catalog Entry from If These Walls Could Talk Exhibit, Neill-Cochran House 2020:

Little did I realize when I made it in 2003, that The Emperor’s New Clothes (seen on the pattern) would be the story of our current times. “As I write this, I prepare to send my child off to college. It is not an easy transition for anyone, but at least it is not an expulsion from Paradise. There is an interpretation of the Adam and Eve send-off that became the inspiration for this sculpture. This version focuses less on the sinners and more on the nature of God. Adam and Eve have really blown it; the father is fed up, and Adam and Eve are told to get the heck out. Then the mom leans out the window and hollers, “Oh, by the way, Honey, do you have your warm coat?” “And the Lord God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife, and clothed them.” (Genesis 3:21) This scene provides a lovely insight into the nurturing side of God, a rather feminine trait at that. Not only did God make garments, God dressed them, and possibly fussed over the fit. The first couple would’ve been grateful for the TLC after wearing fig leaves. If you’ve ever picked a fig leaf, you’ll know why. The stems exude a sticky substance just like Elmer’s Glue, and the leaves crisp up quickly, becoming as scratchy as medium grade sandpaper. Not anybody’s first choice to cover the private parts. Fig leaves may have been plentiful, but animal skins required a sacrifice. All creation does. The sewing machine is a symbol of female oppression in some third-world countries where unfortunate seamstresses go blind laboring over clothes we buy cheap in the U.S. It makes one wonder if God, too, is the oppressed worker. I borrowed a friend’s 1964 Singer portable sewing machine as a model for this porcelain one. It is a very sculptural object, with slim but strong, feminine good looks. It is still reported to be the favorite among quilters and seamstresses who travel. I figure God also gets around a lot, judging by all the garments mentioned in the Bible: Aaron’s robe, Elijah’s cloak, Joseph’s multicolor coat, John the Baptist’s camel hair outfit, the purple cloth Lydia sold. On the Simplicity pattern (same vintage as the sewing machine) is a fresco painting by Masaccio, probably the most famous rendition of the Expulsion from Paradise. He presents us with an avenging angel in red whisking away the bawling pair. The curious thing about this picture is the emphasis on their naked disobedience. By this point in the story, they were clothed. Perhaps the artist took this as metaphor, that they had become enfleshed, had put on skins over their souls. Perhaps they are as nude as the proud Emperor in his new suit, striding along without realizing he had been duped and exposed. The backside of the pattern shows designs for children’s animal costumes, including a leopard outfit I dutifully wore for Trick-or-Treat for Unicef, two or three years in a row. It was an androgynous costume, and it reminds me of the myth of the Androgynos which some scholars say influenced the story of Adam’s creation. The doctrine of original sin is never mentioned in the Bible; Augustine came up with that one a few centuries later. Women have especially suffered from it, and moreover it works in our psyches to root out the equally valid doctrine of original blessing. As the sewing pattern says, it is never as simple as it looks.” (Artist’s note from 2003)