ATLAS, MENOETIUS, PROMETHEUS, EPIMETHEUS
This grouping of four, each standing around 50 inches tall and weighing 600 pounds, are unusually large for this type of stone. Their scale invokes the strength of the Titan brothers from Greek mythology, who lend their names to these sculptures.
The alabaster’s intricate veining and multilayered patterns resemble the swirling stars and cosmic dust in the space photographs I was mesmerized by as a child. My father, a NASA engineer, would bring home stacks of these images from his missions, which I taped across my bedroom walls and ceiling. The visual dialogue between stone and space—between Earth and the universe—captivated my imagination then, as it does now.
In these works, the delicate, twisting folds in the alabaster blur the boundaries between the terrestrial and the celestial. The natural world becomes inseparable from the cosmic, revealing their shared complexity and beauty.
The juxtaposition of neon with stone in my practice bridges the past with a futuristic vision—both harmonious and tension-filled. It invites the viewer to contemplate these sculptures as relics from another time, or perhaps another planet. By leaving the tops of the sculptures in their raw, untouched state, I ground the pieces in their ancient origins, reminding us that even the most futuristic vision is shaped by the Earth's past.
These blocks of alabaster, formed around 150 million years ago during the Jurassic period when the Iberian Peninsula was submerged beneath a shallow sea, carries with it a deep history. The marine life and gypsum sediments that slowly solidified into stone offer a tangible link to an ancient world. In my process, understanding these origins fosters a deep humility and respect for the material—this alabaster has endured far beyond our lifetimes, and in its re-formed state, I hope it will continue long after my own.