4/19/26 - Finished Installation and Statement
Statement:
Memories
With You
I remember all those brisk fall
mornings years ago. The same ones that happened at the start of every new
school year. There was excitement in the air; for us, it was all the things to
come being a year older, for our parents, it was peace knowing summer was over,
and they could have their sanity back. Despite this, Mom probably had to drag
us out of bed three or four times so we wouldn’t be late for the bus. Living
out in the country meant we were the first ones on and last ones off, making
the hour-long ride feel like an eternity. But at least I had you to keep me
company.
We’d walk up the gravel driveway
that felt like a mile long when we were only about four feet tall. I don’t know
exactly what we talked about, maybe video games or our hopes for field trips
and desire to go back to bed, but what I do remember is the sounds of the
sandhill cranes. They would only visit for a few weeks in August and September,
but they were one of my favorite parts of the morning. During our walk, they
would stand in our grandfather’s barley field, preparing for a long day’s flight.
Their distinct coos and our footsteps in gravel filled the air, sounds I could
never forget.
The beige birds would peer at us curiously
from afar, their little red heads being the only speckle of color in the golden
fields nearby. Their calls were reminiscent of our own childhood chatter. I’d
imagine the young cranes complaining about how far they still had to fly, and
their parents reassuring them that it would all be worth it if they were just
patient. As the sun began to peek over
the mountains behind us, the sandhill cranes would start their journey once
more, voices echoing one another, signaling to the group it was time to begin
the new day. I’m sure we had big grins on our small faces as we watched the
birds leave just as we were, and just as we would tomorrow.
I remember how blissful these days were, even if it didn’t feel like it in the moment. The worst thing we had to worry about was learning simple multiplication or deciding who to sit with at lunch. This was twelve years ago, when the world just revolved around the two of us. I haven’t lived with you in three years, but you, Mom, and Dad have always been the constants in my life. We’ve both found new people to walk alongside us on our journey, but I know that whatever the world throws at us, I will always love you, I will always find my way home, I will always remember the sandhill cranes, and I will always cherish the memories with you.
4/12/26 - Progress
I was able to cut out all of my birds this last Friday, and started painting and assembling over the weekend. I drastically underestimated how long it would take to paper and paint the birds, so I will have to work on them through the week with help from friends. I'm hoping to have half of my birds installed by tomorrow, then finish most of the other half that evening. I was able to move my walls and spotlights into position today, and also figured out where my birds would be installed on the moving wall with tape. Soon, I will buy the bedsheets I need for the roof of the tunnel to finish everything off.
4/5/26 - Getting Started
This week, I started making the Illustrator files for my cranes. I decided to make 11 silhouettes to be laser cut. They will be mirrored for the other side of the tunnel, so I will be making 22 birds in total. My goal for this week is to get my birds sectioned out to be upscaled to fit within the bed of the laser cutter, like the body of crane D. To assemble these birds, I am planning on doing some papier-mache over the seam lines to mask where I had to cut the birds to fit them in the laser cutter. Then they will be painted with acrylic paint and ready to be installed in the Other gallery.
3/29/26 - Finalized Ideas
I agree that I have been too wishy-washy on my ideas for this project (this is something I want to work on next year), so I wish to make the crane idea for the sake of time, transport, and space.
The birds: I like the idea of having the smaller cranes possibly trail from one wall to the next, but I am worried about the height of the moving walls not allowing enough space for the cranes if tall people walk through them. It could be that the birds converge and get smaller as the viewer leaves the tunnel, so the birds are trailing migrating off into the distance as the viewer leaves the installation. Also, what if my birds are like a zoetrope that follows the movements of a sandhill crane as it walks and takes flight? As the viewer walks through the tunnel, they follow along with the movements of the birds as they take off. These designs would also be mirrored on both walls, possibly with slightly different poses, but mostly the same on both sides.
Tunnel: I would like to paint the general gradient of a sunrise within the confines of my tunnel, with blues fading to yellow and orange, but I am unsure if the walls could become too busy with both the paint and birds. This effect could be accomplished with dyed fabric rather than paint for easier deinstallation. Or I could scrap having different colors to keep it simple and just play with what my lighting could do. I think I will make some color sketches to decide on if a sunrise is needed or if lighting can do the heavy lifting.
The Gravel: I agree that having physical gravel could become a hazard. I'm curious if I could somehow glue rocks to chipboard or tarp to make modular pieces that aren't messy to clean up. They would just follow the edges of the walls and leave a path in the center, similar to the installation we visited in the museum. If this isn't possible or too time-consuming, I could just rely on sound.
Sound: I'd like to include sounds of footsteps on gravel that are faint in the background to give the illusion that the viewer is walking on gravel or walking alongside my brother and I. I also agree that the sandhill cranes need to be somewhat faint and almost distant.
3/15/26 and 3/22/26 - BFA Intermission

- chipboard or a thin wood
- paint (yellow, orange, blue)
- blue or white sheets
- fine gravel
- clear tarp

Brianna,
I appreciate your honesty here. Realizing that an idea is not sustainable or engaging for you is an important part of the process. The concerns you’re raising — making, storing, shipping — are valid, and they are exactly the kinds of things working artists have to consider.
That said, we are at a point where you need to commit to one direction and follow it through.
Your new idea has a lot of strength. It is:
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Personal and specific
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Spatial (the tunnel is a good instinct)
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Atmosphere-driven
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Much more feasible in terms of fabrication and storage
The memory of walking to the bus and the sound of sandhill cranes is clear and grounded. That specificity is what makes it compelling. Stay with that.
A few things to refine if you move forward with this direction:
First, the birds. The trailing flock that shifts in scale is strong. Be careful that it doesn’t become decorative. Think about how they activate the space:
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Do they move across both walls?
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Do they cross the viewer’s path?
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Do they feel like they are moving through you, not just along a surface?
Second, the tunnel. This is where the installation really happens. The walls and ceiling need to:
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Compress the space
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Guide movement
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Control light
The fabric ceiling filtering light is a good move. Keep it simple and intentional.
Third, the gravel. This is effective conceptually, but think carefully about logistics:
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Safety (slipping, shifting)
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Cleanup
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Sound (which may actually be a benefit)
If it becomes too complicated, you may need to suggest the ground rather than literally recreate it.
Fourth, sound. The cranes are the emotional anchor. Keep it subtle and spatial. You don’t need it to be loud — just present enough to locate the viewer in that memory.
Now, regarding your original cone idea:
You are right — 30–40 cones is likely not enough to fully activate the space, and making more is not realistic in the time we have. The tunnel version improves it, but it still requires a significant amount of fabrication and may not resolve as strongly as your new idea.
Also, your instinct to make the cones modular is good — but again, that’s adding engineering time on top of fabrication time.
At this point, I would rather see you execute one idea well than struggle to complete a more complex one.
So my recommendation is:
Choose the crane/tunnel installation and commit to it fully.
It aligns better with your timeline, your interests, and the level of resolution I want to see from you.
I have been struggling to get any ideas down that I liked because most were either too complex for the time we had or too simple, so I didn't feel they reflected my work ethic or pushed my skills. I finally found one today that uses some of the forms of my wood and paper piece but are made with materials that are quicker for me to use while also filling the space. I plan on making multiple conical shapes that are held up by steel rods, either welded to plates, with three branching feet or welded to other cones to make interconnected bundles. They will stand at around 1 - 1.5 feet tall when complete. The cones themselves will be around 4 inches tall with a 2 - 2.5-inch opening made from chicken wire and plaster gauze, cast paper, or rolled/forged steel sheets. I would like the cones to stay a white color to match the walls (possibly with some dry brushing of other tones of grey) while having pops of color within the inside of the cones with purple colored fluff of various shades. I'm unsure if I should use fluffy faux fur or wool roving for the texture on the inside.
- Steel rod (30 - 40ft)
- steel sheets?
- chicken wire
- plaster gauze or paper
- faux fur or various bundles of purple roving
Bri,
You are thinking carefully about material, and that shows. I appreciate that you’re considering scale, repetition, structure, and fabrication time realistically. That’s mature decision-making.
However, right now this still reads as a series of sculptural objects placed in a space rather than an installation that transforms the space.
The cones themselves are interesting forms. The contrast between a restrained white exterior and a saturated interior has potential. The idea of unity and interconnection is strong — but that concept needs to show up spatially, not just symbolically.
A few things to consider:
1. Scale + Quantity
If the cones are only 4 inches tall and mounted on 1–1.5 ft rods, they risk feeling like a field of small sculptures rather than an immersive environment. Installation depends on density and repetition. How many are you realistically making? Ten will not change a room. Twenty might begin to. Think about volume and how it alters space.
2. Spatial Activation
Right now, they appear to stand upright like specimens. What happens if:
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Some lean?
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Some cluster tightly?
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Some emerge from the wall?
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Some interrupt the viewer’s path?
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Some hang at eye level?
Ask yourself: what does the room feel like when someone walks in? Are they navigating? Surrounded? Immersed? Installation is not just repetition of forms — it is how those forms reorganize space.
3. Steel Rods + Structure
Be careful that the rods don’t visually dominate unless that’s intentional. Are they purely structural, or are they conceptually part of the interconnection? If unity is key, perhaps the rods physically connect forms rather than simply holding them upright.
4. Interior Material (Fur vs. Roving)
Faux fur could quickly read decorative or artificial. Wool roving may feel more organic and restrained. Given your reference to a field of flowers and calmness, subtlety may be stronger than spectacle.
5. Think Beyond the Making
I also want you thinking about the life of this piece beyond critique.
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Where does this live after deinstallation?
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Does it break down?
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Are the rods detachable?
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Do the cones slip on and off?
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Can bases stack?
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How does it transport?
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If shown again in five years, will it hold up?
If everything is welded permanently, this becomes bulky and difficult to store or ship. Installation artists think about disassembly and modular systems. If unity and interconnection are your themes, perhaps the system itself reflects that — components that connect and disconnect, adapt, and reconfigure in new spaces.
Right now you’re designing forms. I want you designing a system — spatially and structurally.
Let’s talk through density and a modular strategy in person so this moves beyond a collection of objects and into a resolved installation.

























