I found the following comments about an artist statement valuable: “An artist statement is a not-too-long series of sentences that describe what you make and why you make it. It’s a stand-in for you, the artist, talking to someone about your work in a way that adds to their experience of viewing that work.” (Sarah Hotchkiss, 2018) This is an opportunity to guide viewers to better understand my work.

My learning from Gilda Williams is that when writing an artist statement about Hotel Kalahari, I should emphasize the specific context of the barn, the themes of resilience and community, and the interaction of light, shadow, and space in shaping the viewer’s experience. I should focus on the work for the exhibition. I can also address the motivations, ideas, and creative choices behind a particular piece or series. This statement should be more accessible and less formal than my practice statement, seeing that this targets a broader audience, including the general public. Williams suggests that the tone should be conversational and the content direct and concise. It should also be written assuming that the audience may not be familiar with mr or art-specific language. I can include personal insights, inspirations, and how the work engages with specific issues or concepts.

My thoughts on accomplishing this effort are that my artist statement for Hotel Kalahari might explore how the installation reflects themes of home, loss, and resilience while responding to the barn’s rural architecture and interplay of light and shadow. By the final version, I considered the statement an ‘outward-looking archive of care and resilience’. I now perceived the installation as merging personal storytelling with reflections on my relationship between humanity and nature. Wire became more than material; it also served as a metaphor. The barn and the nests’ shadows talked about the site being a heterotopia and invited me, as the maker and the visitors, to reflect.

In this blog, I share different versions to show the development of thoughts during this process.

Bibliography

Hotchkiss, Sarah. (2018) How to write an artist statement. Blogpost At: https://thecreativeindependent.com/guides/how-to-write-an-artist-statement/

Williams, Gilda (2014) How to Write about Contemporary Art, Thames & Hudson, Limited, 2014. ProQuest Ebook Central. At: http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/ucreative-ebooks/detail.action?docID=5878108.

First version

Hotel Kalahari centres around nests—objects that hold deep meaning for me. The wire nests represent more than physical spaces; they are woven around care, protection, and loss. I use solid yet flexible wire, which allows me to shape it in ways that resemble the fluid, ever-evolving nature of the sociable weaver birds’ nests. I could observe these large communal nests in the Kalahari Desert and Southern Namibia, and they became a symbol of community, collaboration, and resilience, even in harsh conditions.

In thinking about these nests, I was inspired by a concept called ‘heterotopia’—which sounds complex but is really about spaces that exist simultaneously here and elsewhere. These nests, like the ones created by sociable weaver birds, are practical, providing shelter, but they also hold a deeper meaning. They represent safety, but at the same time, they can isolate us. They are natural but shaped by human ideas of protection. This duality—of comfort and confinement, nature and human intervention—is what I am exploring in my work. As I created the nest, I reflected on how nests are both shelters and places of nurturing, but they can also symbolize confinement. As the wire twists and folds, I explore the balance between safety and isolation—how the things we build to protect ourselves can also distance us from the world.

The nests reflect my journey, especially the loss of my youngest son. His death profoundly changed me, and the process of creating nests became a way for me to cope with that loss. Each nest I make is filled with the emotions of care, letting go, and the deep pain that comes with grief. Through this work, I hope to offer viewers a space to reflect on their experiences of love, loss, and connection.

In making these nests, I find myself both a caregiver and someone receiving care. The repetitive, meditative act of weaving wire helps me process my complicated emotions, offering a way to heal. I hope that by sharing my story, others might find their moments of reflection and comfort, recognizing the importance of care and community in our fragile lives.

This was a personal and evocative way of introducing my work to the audience. It connects the nests to my personal story and conceptual thinking, offering depth without overwhelming the viewer with theory. I left it a few days and then re-wrote it.

Version Two

This version softens the academic concepts but keeps the emotional core and accessibility, offering a clear path for the audience to connect with my work.

Artist Statement for the Hotel Kalahari Exhibition (278 w)

My exhibition centres around nests—objects that hold deep meaning for me. Hotel Kalahari became more than physical spaces as they were woven with themes of care, protection, and loss. The use of solid yet flexible wire allowed me to shape forms that reflected the fluid, ever-evolving nature of the sociable weaver birds’ nests, a technique that I hope will intrigue and inspire appreciation in the audience.

In thinking about these nests, I’ve drawn inspiration from the concept of ‘heterotopia.’ This term might sound abstract, but it essentially refers to spaces here and elsewhere. These nests are practical, providing shelter, but they also hold a more profound meaning—they symbolise both safety and confinement, natural yet shaped by human protection ideas. This duality is what I am exploring in my work: how the things we build to protect ourselves can also distance us from the world.

Through this work, I aim to provide viewers with a space to reflect on their experiences of love, loss, and connection.

In making these nests, I find myself both a caregiver and a recipient of care.

Working with wire, I find myself in a rhythm of weaving that becomes both a release and a reflection of my inner world. The repetitive motions and the feeling of the material in my hands allow me to channel my emotions directly into the form. Like Bourgeois, I view making as essential—a way to process and transform feelings that are otherwise intangible. My subject is not the wire itself but the ideas and emotions it contains: care, loss, resilience. Each nest becomes a vessel for these, offering me a curative space for healing through creation.

Artist Statement (500w)

Hotel Kalahari is an immersive sculptural installation that explores themes of community, resilience, and the fluid interplay between containment and openness. The installation combines personal storytelling with reflections on human/nature experiences through intricately crafted wire nests of different sizes and forms. Suspended within the barn on a farm in the Riebeek Valley, South Africa, the work draws on the architecture of the sociable weaver bird’s communal nests—vast structures that provide shelter and connection in the harsh Kalahari Desert. These nests serve as both metaphor and inspiration, embodying collective ingenuity and the delicate balance between individual needs and communal care.

The installation consists of a woven wire nest alongside a series of smaller wire sculptures. These suspended forms interact dynamically with the barn’s natural light, casting intricate shadows that shift throughout the day. These shadows become integral to the work, mirroring the nests’ conceptual duality—where strength meets fragility and creation coexists with precarity. This interdependence of form and shadow invites viewers to consider how physical and metaphorical spaces are shaped by the forces around them.

With its rustic textures and imperfections, the barn is a meaningful collaborator in this work. Its environment—marked by hay, dust, and the passage of time—contrasts with the industrial steel wire, a material historically associated with boundaries and division. By transforming this utilitarian material into delicate, transparent forms, the work subverts its conventional associations and reclaims it as a medium of care and connection. The installation thus becomes a dialogue between the man-made and the organic, blurring the boundaries between art and site and rethinking the role of exhibition spaces.

The Hotel Kalahari title reflects the sociable weaver nests’ role as communal hubs that accommodate life and nurture resilience in an unforgiving landscape. These nests resonate as symbols of survival and adaptability, mirroring the human condition. In creating the installation, I engaged in a repetitive, meditative process of weaving that mirrored the birds’ instinctual act of building. This labour-intensive practice became a personal exploration of loss and healing, transforming grief into something hopeful and generative.

The installation also invites broader questions about how we inhabit and share spaces. How do natural and human-made structures shape our understanding of community and care? What narratives can we reclaim from materials like wire, traditionally used to separate and confine? In this context, Hotel Kalahari is not only an homage to resilience but also an invitation to reconsider how art can create spaces of connection and reflection.

This exhibition marks a pivotal moment in my practice as I explore how art interacts with its surroundings. The barn was not merely a venue but an active participant, shaping how the work was experienced. I envision adapting Hotel Kalahari for new contexts, including outdoor installations or gallery spaces, each offering unique dialogues between the work, its site, and its audience. Through this interplay of space, light, and material, I hope to continue weaving connections between art, environment and shared humanity.

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