Beams against blue sky, a hat tipped toward the ground, a single worklight glowing in the dark—these are a few examples of the photographs in Kim Bissett’s latest exhibition, “My Father’s Smile” at Shed Projects space.
Unframed photographs, an architectural model, paper collage, wooden furniture and boxes of ephemera and related materials, “My Father’s Smile” is a catalog of an immense project, both physically and emotionally.
Built on land inherited from Bissett’s father, the construction and conception of Orange Dog Studio, an arts workspace, becomes a study all its own.
Kim Bissett, former sculptor and faculty member at the Cleveland Institute of Art for over twenty years, has had to reshape her artistic identity in momentous ways. Nerve damage in 2005 rendered Bissett incapable of continuing her work in bronze and stone casts, shifting her work to 2D paper collage. Then, in 2018, injuries from a car accident forced Bissett yet again to retrain, rethink and re-approach her artistic practice.
With the help and direction of Gabrielle Banzhaf and Jon Gott of Shed Projects, “My Father’s Smile” is an archival exhibition following profound reflection and reconciliation of identity, legacy and place. “This project is physically large. It was large in terms of time and effort. I started to photograph as a way of understanding structure. It was a way I could understand space [at the time],” says Bissett.
Bissett has thousands of photographs documenting the construction of the building, taking three or four hundred shots a day, but only a fraction are shown. Printed on hot press paper—a process that allows the paper to pick up small, intricate details of the image—the photographs stay within the bounds of four-by-six or six-by-six portraits and landscape prints. On the raw, exposed Shed Projects gallery walls the photographs are unencumbered by glass or framing, giving off an intense closeness to the work. A cardboard architectural model of the build accompanies the images, along with several stacked archival boxes of various sizes on the gallery floor filled with materials inherent to the project including: an Amish work pencil made by Bissett’s contractor, birds’ nests that imitate the fabrication of the build, and wood samples from the site.
The smaller, tactile choice of the photographs feel weighted with intention. The work pulls you in. There is an intimacy in something so small you could hold it in your hands. Like a family photo pulled out of a back pocket and placed on the wall.
Bissett was clear that this project would not have been successful if it were not for the patience, permission and grace of the Amish people, and more specifically her contractor. Because the land was bequeathed to her through her father, Bissett wanted to be as close to the project as possible. She is the caretaker and owner of the land, but also the project manager for the architectural build. In addition to documenting the process, Bissett was hands-on with hauling wood, driving construction material around the property, and even learning difficult new skills. She moved in a kind of synchronicity with her contractor and his brothers. They offered her the time and kindness needed to understand each aspect of the build, which Bissett found to be transformative. (Out of respect to their culture and way of living, Bissett cannot share their names nor their likeness with the public. Everything that is shown has been approved by the Amish people.)
Bissett’s reverence of presence is felt. The presence of comprehending one’s relationship to oneself, to time, to family, to artistry, to others, to the landscape. Presence is distinguished.
Intimate, quiet and warm, “My Father’s Smile” is an archive of creative shifts, grief and breaking new ground.
“Kim Bissett: My Father’s Smile” is on view at Shed Projects, 3731 Pearl Road, Cleveland, Ohio, through March 28.
