A feral, hyper-human female figure.
Intrepida (2018) is poised and daring. She is a movement at the edge of our vision; captured mid-action, she immediately freezes. Patterns of fabric envelop her, forming a skin that makes her visible yet ready to be camouflaged and disappear. She is part of a progression of miniature, three-dimensional figurative works I have been making over the past year: exaggerated bodies, rich in color and texture, able to extend and contort in ways that a human body couldn’t. They are imperfect handmade objects, miniature sculptures that reference and poke fun at the monumental. They are small jewels full of comedy and drama.
I begin these works in a place lead by touch and feeling, where inert materials—fabric, stuffing, and wire—can emerge as anything. I see a form materializing loosely, ethereal, and then pinned together. She is born out of intuition, a foggy impression until I tighten and sculpt the body through countless little stitches and knots. Her skin flickers in black and white. The fabric is inverted at the end of some limbs, revealing a darker pattern. This slight switch creates a tiny vibration that highlights certain gestures. Hands and hair grow out of yarn. Her eyes are open fields of color.
Intrepida is a powerful creature, muscular, extremely flexible, hyper-human, more than what we could be. Exposed, all she needs is a small knit top and bottom, a grid structure outlining her figure and accentuating her fluidity. Intrepida is something feral that lurks, a potential being that is female, animal, otherworldly. In crafting her I offer a glimpse of another reality, and an opening to an unapologetic space for others like us.
Maria A. Guzmán Capron, Intrepida, 2018. 11 x 13.5 x 8.5 inches. Courtesy the artist and Deli Gallery, New York.
Maria A. Guzmán Capron, Intrepida (back), 2018. 11 x 13.5 x 8.5 inches. Courtesy the artist and Deli Gallery, New York.
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