VENKA is a word I made up (or at least I think I made it up because I can’t find it on dictionary.com). It is the name for a series of sculptures. I often make up words for pieces if I’m not finding an existing word that fits. I’ve recently decided it refers to something or someone that possesses workhorse elegance.
For me, the word combines two things that really should have a specific word already but at present I can’t think of what that word is and am not entirely sure it exists as I am imagining it. VENKA essentially encapsulates the hard work necessary to build something lovely. It means you don’t mind getting dirty and sweating a bit to get something done, and the result is elegant and you yourself are still elegant even if in need of a shower. It can also refer to a woman, like my mom, who is strong, creative, a feminist, but who also puts up with a man who has bad behavior and does so because she loves him. It is less ‘stand by your man’ and more “I see your flawed humanity” which takes a lot of strength and grace to pull off.
I’m a gardener as well as a visual artist. Both activities necessitate the need for muscles – a lot of physical effort and sweat, which is usually thought of as unglamorous. But both also require a light touch – a delicateness in handling and a gentle mindfulness in addition to full force might.
VENKA is an intentional push against its very dichotomy. Brute strength hard work paired with elegance seems a stretch, but it defines more accurately what most women are, not what is often attributed to them. Unfortunately, women are still the inferior sex in our current society, which baffles the mind. Hopefully this will change once we have Kamala Harris in the White House! The male version of VENKA is perhaps VENKO – a man who retains his beauty and elegance by racing hard, working diligently, and keeping his masculinity intact via the choices he makes.
But, to get back to the actual sculptural work:
The pieces are always black with 2 surface treatments applied to fired clay: pigmented wax and India Ink. That subtle change as the pieces angles is key and speaks to the dualities involved. As objects, they are constructed to be slightly smaller at the bottom than at the top. The ‘face’ is concave intentionally by way of gravity – a technique employed on purpose to include chance as it relates to the weather and the moisture of the clay.
They are somewhat brutalist architecturally. They cast shadows when hung on the wall but can also sit on a table. They are elegant (think Audrey Hepburn in a little black dress), but also solid (akin to the writing of Grace Paley and Dorris Lessing). They are punk rock (think Patti Smith, Debbie Harry, Siouxie Sioux), and delicate like a petal (a light scratch on the concave encaustic surface leaves a wound). They are supremely archival, but would shatter if dropped, causing irreversible damage.
They look ‘perfect’ from afar – like a well-defined hole in the wall perhaps. But up close, you can see how organic they are – hand made and even a bit ‘wonky’ as one side is probably not the same size as the other, and they are not perfect ovals by any stretch. That architectural/organic duality is also quite necessary, and why they are made of coils and not slabs.
They are wholly imperfect. They are self-portraits . . . perhaps.
STEPHANIE HARGRAVE STUDIO 