Fascinated by the expansive mysterious place in which we live, where myriads of influences merge and emerge through others, Tracy Harp draws inspiration from how we intermingle with spiritual and life forces, each other, and with the permeability of the atmosphere, earth, and sea. Through her art she delves into vulnerability by discreetly drawing upon deep-seated afflictions and the capacity to heal and endure. By process of inquiry, she creates sculptural forms, assemblages, and paintings with meticulous or spontaneous compositions that juxtapose frailty and fortitude, ensuing — a visual silence.
∞
As an allegory of stripping away unsound cumulation from mind, body, and spirit, Harp carefully applies pressure and hand scrapes open and closed clay forms with a thin metal rib, often until the walls reach as thin as a quarter inch—or even less. Although the interiors are not often visible, she refines them as carefully as she does the exteriors. While scraping, she patiently feels her way in order to detect even the slightest inconsistencies. Inevitability, her works undergo metamorphosis throughout the process and the surfaces become ultra compressed and smooth. The more closely packed the particles, the denser the form, which give the sculptures a stone-like presence and feel.
A selection of Harp’s sculptural forms are intentionally left bone-dry, clay’s most vulnerable state, and like sand dollars, have the potential to crack or break if not handled with the utmost care. Analogous to adaptive human interaction, gently dragging these clay forms on a surface reveal traces of powdery residue, altering their true nature. Other forms are slightly fired. This offers less fragility, yet maintains a permeable state, susceptible to disintegration. Antipodally, fully fired clay restricts permeability and becomes vitrified, loosing all porosity; it’s breath of life— so it can never return back to the earth. For other clay forms, Harp implements ancient pit and wood firing methods.