I’m writing this as the assault on the Palestinians in Rafah intensifies.
While sorting through some of my past work, I came upon a mask I made maybe 20 or 30 years ago. I made a mould, then made several versions of it. Here are 3 of the versions–2 made with layers of brown paper and a third with paper pulp. These masks have an eerie quality to them which suited my feelings of horror about the unfolding genocide in Gaza and the West Bank. Over the past few months, I have found it very difficult to create new work that expresses some of these feelings. But when I saw these masks, I felt they said something about the genocide–paper maché translations of death and grief.
Arts of May 