Dog Days is a theater of imagination investigating the landscape of apocalypse in America. Set under the haze of midsummer heat, these scenes gaze both forwards and backwards through time to see the impact of humanity through its absence. Ghost towns demonstrate what it means to create a world that we cannot live in; the dog serves as a conduit for human emotions, decision making, and conflict, and the weather symbolizes uncontrollable change, always pushing into the unknown. 

Referencing spiritual architecture, such as shrines, apses, and stained glass windows, I substitute the architectural mediums and the religious subject matter with those which reflect American ecology, material language, and landscape. To stitch together this web of omens,, the fabric I use is previously owned. Its visible wear connects these apocalyptic worlds back to our homes and our bodies.

Illuminating the veil between wild and domestic, the canine comfortably slips into our suburban homes while being attuned to sensations, communications, and drives that differ significantly from our own. The dog serves as a reminder of our ability to empathetically connect, and our eagerness to (often incorrectly) read our own emotional context into the lives and motivations of others. During the dog days of summer, loss, illness, madness, heat, intense storms, and war reveal evidence of our mortality; I wonder if these increased stakes will spark fear or courage.

As we tumble towards an uncertain future, I wonder exactly how much ingenuity can conquer weather, natural disaster and scarcity? Questioning our current attitude towards land management, I propose that stewardship requires an immense and perhaps mystical understanding of the interconnected structure on which our modern world rests, and from which humanity is not absolved. Contending with the fatalistic visions of rapturous Christian Evangelicalism and the increasingly bleak scientific predictions about climate change, this series invites you to explore a rich mythos of bad omens, grappling canines, and the blurring and braiding of American history. I question the ways that we perceive the world we are surrounded by - our place within it, our ability to change or control it, and the contradictions, fears, and hope we can summon for our commingled future.