How do you think big?
"When you're supposed to not get in the way, not overstep your welcome, not overshadow or intimidate" - Rebecca Solnit
The quote referenced in the title of this newsletter is from writer and activist Rebecca Solnit. I came across this while making my painstakingly slow way through Art Monsters by Lauren Elkin. One of those books I find myself being absorbed by. Rereading passages, flipping back to the page I dog eared and underlined the crap out of. At this moment in the book, Elkin explores the need for a female artist to take more space, as confirmed by many female artists in past and present. Elkin references Solnit’s writing about Ann Hamilton, a female artist whose work takes up an awesome amount of space. Solnit wrote about how Hamilton asked her students, who were mostly young women, to carry a 4 x 8 sheet of plywood around with them. For a week! This exercise made the students literally take up more space in their day to day lives. And not be able to deny how often they apologized for doing taking up said space. Realizing how often they apologized for taking up space in their lives.
This chapter of Art Monsters really struck a cord for me at a time in my own artist development. I’ve had an undeniable itch to take up more space. Something I’ll elaborate on later in this newsletter. It also reminded me how often we, as female [artists] are still, in 2025, expected to be accommodating, palatable, understandable.
READ | NOVEMBER
About a month ago the show I had work in, Hold My Hand In Yours, which was exhibited at the Weisman Museum and curated by Director Andrea Gyorody, was censored by Pepperdine University. Administration from the university had decided that two works in the exhibit, pieces by Elana Mann and AMBOS, had elements with “political overtones” or were “overtly political.” A more descriptive turn of events is linked in articles below. I made an official request to remove my 6 drawings from the show as an act of solidarity with AMBOS and Mann, along with many other artists in the show who did the same. Later that week, the exhibit closed. One month after opening and 6 months early.
Art has always been a reflection of the times. Artists hold up mirrors to what is happening around us in the world. Artists are the truth-tellers. Philippe de Montebello, the former Director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, stated, “A museum is the memory of mankind.” Paul Robeson said “Artists are the gatekeepers of truth. We are civilization’s radical voice.”
I hope you’ll learn more about Elana Mann’s work and AMBOS’ work. Furthermore, if you can support the initiatives of these artists please do so. It costs money to take up space in order to create. Share their work or financially contribute.
I am incredibly grateful to Andrea Gyorody who curated such a masterful show with care and expertise. It was a highlight of my career and immense honor to exhibit alongside this incredible group of artists and have my work installed in the same spaces as theirs.
I’ve linked to a selection of articles on the incident below. Thank you to the journalists, students, faculty, and alumni.
Pepperdine Administrators Shut Down Weisman Exhibition After Censoring Artwork, by student Henry Adams, Pepperdine Graphic
California School Shutters Exhibition After Altering “Political” Art, by Matt Stromberg, Hyperallergic
California Museum Director Resigns After University Removes “Political” Artwork, by Matt Stromberg, Hyperallergic
Pepperdine University Censorship Sparks Artist Protest at Weisman Museum, open letter from the National Coalition Against Censorship
Fine Arts Division Writes Official Statement on Weisman Censorship, Pepperdine Graphic
Letter to the Editor: Restoring Integrity to Pepperdine’s Artistic and Academic Mission, by Pepperdine alum Dr. Bryan C. Keene, Pepperdine Graphic
Reflections on the Weisman Controversy, Part Two + Part One, by students Abigail Norman and Braeden Wicker, Pepperdine Beacon
SEE | NOVEMBER
In the same chapter of Art Monsters where I read about Ann Hamilton’s approach to helping students take up more space, Elkin references the work of artist Rebecca Horn. Specifically Horn’s piece Scratching Both Walls at Once, 1974-75 (also referred to as Touching Both Walls Simultaneously). Part of her Berlin-Exercises series, this photograph shows Horn standing tight and upright in the center of a bare studio room. Her arms are outstretched to her sides and from each finger long white cones extend to just reach the walls to her left and to her right. With these extensions, Horn’s “finger gloves,” her body expands and takes up the entire room.
Several works by Horn are on exhibit currently at the Harvard Art Museums, which I visited in September. One of my favorites is her piece Unicorn, pictured above. Unfortunately I didn’t take more photos of the work on view but hopefully you can make it in to experience them in person. Introduction to the History of Art is on view at Harvard Art Museums through January 4, 2026.
Other works in the exhibit that stood out for me in the same vein of taking up space:
This stop-you-in-your-tracks piece DIVERGENCES by Joiri Minaya was my introduction to her work.
“Divergences builds upon the photo series Containers (2015-present), a body of work featuring women in bodysuits with stereotypical tropical prints, constructed according to poses found from Google Image searches for “Dominican women,” reflecting on contested constructions of femininity in relation to national or regional identity and tropical nature.” - quoted from Minaya’s website.
In Divergences, Minaya deconstructs the tropical pattern that shrouds a sensual-posed feminine figure. A form of camouflage, possibly hiding from the male colonial gaze. The piece is slightly larger than life, at 40 x 60 in, which to me felt like a statement: I can deny your gaze from claiming / consuming me while simultaneously also taking up space.
Like Rebecca Horn’s Scratching Both Walls at Once, Louise Nevelson’s massive piece Total Totality II practically dominates the room with its commanding presence. Nevelson is an artist who challenged the male-dominated sculpture world of her time and very literally took up more space with her work. As an art major at Connecticut College, I walked by Nevelson’s piece Untitled, 1976, nearly every day. Total Totality II was part of her exploration of wood and found objects. Massive reconfigurations and compartments that were often intended to take over entire rooms. Untitled was made when Nevelson, in her 70s, began exploring outdoor sculptures for the first time. The massiveness of this sculpture made an impression on me, it no subconsciously, every time I walked into the Cummings Arts Center. A behemoth that reaches toward up toward the sky like flames. My concentration was portraiture so in obvious ways nothing like Nevelson’s work. But her use of black was one of the artistic influences that led me to focus on my preferred medium charcoal and her scale an influence to make my portraits and figures larger and larger and larger . . .
MY ART | NOVEMBER
Which is a brilliant segue into what I mentioned at the beginning of this newsletter. After my senior thesis, a group of larger than life charcoal portraits of figures crying, and graduating from Connecticut College, my art rapidly grew smaller in scale. The constraints of a small apartment, lack of time, and no studio space. I started creating small pen illustrations, often for commercial commission. After the birth of my son I began my current body of work—delicate, controlled pencil drawings—often drawn at the kitchen table. The drawings are relatively small, maxing at 17in x 14in. struggle with photographs of them hanging in shows because the nuances of the lines are often lost on camera and they can appear like blank pages framed on the wall. Some of the more “graphic” drawings of nipples, blood, etc are rarely selected for shows.
In the past couple of years I’ve slowly reintroduced larger charcoal compositions (a bumpy process of reacquainting with a medium I had stepped away from for a decade). I’ve been dreaming of wall coverings lately. The same tension points examined in my graphite drawings, like little hands tugging on breast skin, but 10 times the size and drawn in hand brushed strokes of charcoal. Taking up entire walls. Entire rooms. Taking up more space . . .
While simultaneously craving to take up more physical space for my artwork, I’ve been more cognizant than ever about my hesitance to talk about my work. Sitting here and writing this newsletter, I’m forcing myself to remember all the times I’ve referred to my art as something I do outside of my “real job” as a marketing consultant. Or worse, claimed that I’m not a real artist. I’m not qualified enough for that job. I’m not what they’re looking for. I’m not an expert at that. Etc, etc, etc. Which leads me to get over it and talk about a couple highlights for my artwork:
My drawing, The Last Strands of Who I Was, is on the cover of Cambridge Naturals’ autumn zine!! This one means so much to me. In my early 20s, I got off the red line at Porter Square every day for my job in publishing. The Cambridge Naturals store was right there, and I’d walk by it twice a day. Their yellow logo is etched in my brain. This is where I’d pop in to treat myself on occasion, in tandem with a visit to neighboring Porter Square Books. Being featured on the cover of one of their brilliant seasonal zines just pulled on a heart string that I didn’t know needed being strung, if you get my drift. Owners and incredible humans Emily Kanter and Caleb Dean (Emily’s parents founded CN and Caleb is a brilliant writer) have also become friends and our littles adore each other. The zines are a bounty of community contributed recipes, essays, and so much more. Produced by another brilliant human, Caitlin Healy of Fableworks Studio and Give Good at Bow Market in Somerville. Pick up a free copy at the Cambridge Naturals store before they’re gone! I also just discovered that you can order a copy mailed to you for only the cost of postage.
This past spring, I had several drawings exhibited at Hera Gallery as part of the national juried exhibit CARE. Being a nincompoop, I didn’t share it here on Substack while the show was on view. But here we are 6 months later and I’m finally sharing the link to the virtual artist talk. You can hear me talk (and watch my hands do a lot) about my current body of work (those delicate graphite ones) and the drawings that were part of the exhibit, starting at 23:18. My dear friend Denali Joie woke up at an ungodly hour from the other side of the world in order witness this talk and support me (love you). A reminder of how valuable it is to show up for your friends!
I love reading your dispatches, Christine! And I'm so happy your work is on the cover of the zine this season. This post reminded that your evocative art was my first introduction to you and I'm so grateful that stumbling upon your work online has led to a friendship. Can't wait to see your work grow!