Why a blog outside of Canvas?

 Weekly Studio Blog: Installation Notes

Each week, post a brief update documenting your installation work. Think of this as studio note-taking and record-keeping, not an essay.

Your post should include:

1. At least one image
   This can be a progress photo, test, sketch, material experiment, failed attempt, or spatial reference. The image should not be dark/hard to define. Lets get better at this! It is important.How can you turn the image so it is right side up. 

2. Three short entries (bullet points or short sentences are fine):

   • What I did this week
     (What actions did you take? What did you build, test, move, research, or change?)

   • What changed or became clear
     (A decision, problem, realization, or adjustment—something that shifted your thinking or approach.)

   • What I am doing next
     (Your immediate next step before the next class.)

That’s it. Keep it concise and functional. If this takes more than 10–15 minutes to complete, you are doing too much.

This blog functions as a working record of your installation process—similar to photographing an installation so you remember how it was built, installed, and experienced in space.

Posts are evaluated for consistency and evidence of engagement, not writing style. 

Installation work is:

• iterative

• spatial

• process-heavy

• often not legible until late

Weekly blogging:

• makes invisible labor visible

• externalizes decision-making

• helps me to see where students are stuck before install

• creates a record for critique and grading

• supports staggered installs (this is important)

When blogging is not helpful and what I do not expect of you in this process:

-it’s long

-it’s overly formal

-it’s graded like an essay- it's not!

-students don’t know what I'm looking for

-it feels disconnected from critique or install

Skylee- Small World Project # 1

Reflection: If I were to do this installation again, I would have started it a bit sooner. It took way longer than I anticipated. When I was doing the papering that is all over the inside of the desk, I would have started with larger pieces of paper sooner than I did. I would have been able to spend more time doing other things for it, like making a chair and adding more writing/letters. When making the desk, I should have kept the scale in mind and measured it based on the dimensions.

This art piece explores my personal feelings and experiences with my disability and the constant and lasting impact of language and pressure. It shows the feelings that are felt from the ignorance of those who make hurtful comments. This piece shows the battles that school is itself, while you are accompanied by the comments, labels, assumptions, and pressure. Many comments were not intended to be personal; however, when you hear them over and over, it is hard not to. 

It starts to be harder and harder to keep the belief in intelligence or capability when you fight people telling you otherwise. 

The jumbled text with layering of different texts is a representation of this. These layers are a representation of the accumulation of situations, remarks, and pressures. Each layer is just another time when there was someone telling me I was or wasn’t, being direct or indirect. Eventually, those thoughts are constantly in your head.

One area defined by the drooping walls was external voices, and the other was representing inner thoughts. You enter the space,e and you are instantly confronted by an overwhelming amount of messages, large, intense lettering. The scale reflects how unavoidable, common, and intense these experiences felt. The overlapping texts on the wall create a visual and cognitive overload, reflecting the difficulty sorting through the emotions from all of these messages. 

This installation is not only a memory, but the continuing psychological weight of repetition and expectation. It asks viewers to reflect on how language shapes identity, the accumulated pressure, and how resilience is sought out in desperation. Ultimately, this installation offers insight into an invisible struggle, making internal experience visible, tangible, and impossible to ignore. 

I have been debating doing this piece on the desk or backpack, or both, as part of it. There would be stories of ICE (maybe not strictly the negative stories), but they would be a big part of this piece. Including the many deaths. This piece is supposed to represent the many children who are affected, even if they are not the ones being abducted. Really, just how dramatically it has been affecting people, specifically kids, and citizens. 

The idea is to have books and other found objects in the bag with papers of stories of these ICE incidents. The desk would have a single crayon, specifically red (the color that would be part of the drawings and circling different stories), but the desk could be empty. It would be an addition to the scene. My intention would be to show the desk being empty to push the idea of the absence of those kids or people who used to be part of the community.  These are all just a variety of ideas that could or don’t have to be part of it. 

The second idea would be a student back pack that would still be a similar seen however this one would be relating to a student that has a reading disability. I also considered this one having whispers and thoughts that a student usually has going through their head. Both ideas are similar with the found objects and set up however the content would be different. 

Ilya kabakov 

 In Ilya Kabakov’s work, I like the collage that also incorporates found objects, and the writing behind the work is absolutely amazing. 

He is doing a similar concept. The creation of how it is to live under certain circumstances. 

Maggie - Small World

3/6/2026

Update: I was never able to do any more work on my small-world. The container I chose, the violin, was not the right choice of container because the viewer cannot look inside. I couldn't do any of my revisions, so this piece will remain forever unfinished. I'm not happy with the lack of scale or the doorway that is too small to look into. Could've, should've, would've. Hindsight really is 20/20. 

2/9/2026

Artist Statement: 

For the small world installation, the object that I chose was a violin. My dad was an orchestra teacher who repaired school instruments for years, so he had some discarded, scrap violins that were past the point of repair lying around. I initially thought about using some sort of string instrument because of the interior space. I also have a long and troubled history with music, so I thought this project would be a good way to say something about that.

The two artists I studied were Thomas Doyle and Matthew Albanese. I found them inspirational because they both do miniature-scale installations. Thomas Doyle is really good at creating miniatures that mimic disaster situations, and it takes time to see all of the detail and meaning in his work. He is also really good at creating textures that seem scale-accurate, such as the rock texture that he features frequently. Matthew Albanese is really good at completely throwing off scale and incorporating interesting visuals with light. I tried to use both of their works to create the texture of the "rock" in the cave, as well as the lighting. 

My sculpture changed the existing space into a cave. The interior of the violin originally looked more conducive to being turned into a small room. There was ample light coming in from the F-holes, and the interior was all wooden. Now, the space still has some light coming in from the F-holes, but the majority comes from the dollhouse lights. I think the space looks both creepy and serene. 

This miniature alters the meaning and perception that most viewers would expect to see because of the juxtaposition between the sophistication of a violin and the bleakness of a cave. It takes the item from being a symbol of class to something raw under the surface. 

I'm not sure what sort of entry the viewer experiences. I'm pretty sure it is just a visual thing, but I don't understand what this part of the prompt meant aside from "the viewer looks into the space with their eye". Overall, I'm not sure exactly what I want the viewer to experience. I could make up something philosophical, but I really just want people to see a cave. 

2/8/2026

Update:

I started this project by removing the back of the violin, and then I dripped and brushed wax on the inside. I wanted to make a surface to adhere stalactites and stalagmites to. I was originally making them by hand, but that process was laborious and took a lot of time, so I made a flask mold with clay to make a mold. That was a lot faster, so I was able to bust out a bunch at once and then weld them to the surfaces. I decided to experiment and made columns by measuring out pieces of wire and then dipping them in wax until I reached the desired thickness. 

In the third picture, you will see the color choices I made for the lights. I ended up buying dollhouse lights, and then screwing a couple more holes into the back to stick them through. I chose red and blue because of the dual meanings behind the colors - red being both angry and passionate, and blue being both sad and calm. 

I decided that I wanted to make it look wet on the inside of the cave. Ashley suggested that I avoid nail polish and use LureCraft instead, but I couldn't make it thin enough. I did end up opting to use cheap nail polish in clear and then a sparkly tone, and I poured it into the bottom. I also used the nail polish to try to make drips on the end of the stalagmites on the top. I am curious to see what it looks like when it is dried, but it was giving me the desired effect when I left it. 

 

Here is the view into the violin. I realized after I had already started sealing it up that you can still see a very obvious seam in the wood. I think I need to go back and open it up again to fix that, and then I can reseal it.  Do you think that is necessary?

1/24/2026 

Small World Installation

My Item: 

    This is the violin that I plan to use, as well as the inside of the space. 

The story: 

    For this installation, I centered my concept around the item that I plan to use. My dad was an orchestra teacher in Cheyenne, and for years, he repaired old, beat-up musical instruments that belonged to the school district. I want to use one of his scrap violins to create my small world. 

    I was heavily involved with music from 4th grade up until the second semester of my senior year of high school. I started by playing the cello, but then moved to playing the string bass for orchestra when I was a sophomore in high school. I was also in the marching band (I played xylophone and such for the front ensemble), jazz band, choir, and the acapella audition group. I was really working to get the letter award for being the most involved in the music program in my high school. However, the students and my choir teacher really sucked.

    There was this toxic atmosphere of competition and stepping on each other's backs in order to succeed. I had a stay at WBI in Casper for a week, during my junior year, after getting particularly overwhelmed by school, the music program, and my undiagnosed ADHD. After that, it felt like a fall from grace. I had gone from one of the most competitive students in the music program to not being able to audition for any extracurricular activities like All-State and All-Northwest. 

    My choir teacher created a lot of this environment. He would play favorites, and often in a very unprofessional (and quite frankly pedophilic) manner. My former best friend became the object of his desires, and she didn't see how creepy it was. One time, he cried to the whole class about how she was the best singer in the school (she sounded like a goat), and that she hadn't made it into All-Northwest, "but congratulations anyway to the people who made it" (yuck). 

    I ended up leaving my high school in the second semester of my senior year to attend an alternative high school and finish my credits online. I never had a senior prom, nor did I walk for graduation, because of how disgusted I was with the music program and the people around me.  

Design Ideas: 

    I want to turn the interior of the violin into a cave. I like caves, and I think they are very visually interesting, but they also represent my bitter feelings towards music. I want to put in colored lights to show that I do still have some love for music, but a lot of it is dark. 

Artist Inspiration:

    For this piece, I am inspired by Matthew Albanese and Thomas Doyle. I am also inspired by these pictures of real caves. 

The Hoax by Matthew Albanese

Thomas Doyle

Maggie, thank you for sharing this so openly. The choice to use your dad’s scrap violin is meaningful and grounded, and it’s clear that the object itself carries history, care, and complexity. That makes it a strong found space to work within.

The idea of transforming the interior of the violin into a cave is a compelling direction, especially as a metaphor for both shelter and darkness. Caves can feel protective, isolating, and immersive all at once, which aligns well with the emotional tone you’re describing. The challenge here will be translating that idea clearly at a small scale so the interior reads as an environment, not just texture.

As you move forward, try to focus on how the viewer encounters the space. Because the violin already has a very specific opening and interior curve, think about:

• Where does the viewer “enter” the cave visually?

• How does light guide the eye through the space?

• What makes this feel like a place rather than a surface?

Your instinct to use colored light selectively is a good one. Rather than lighting everything, consider using light sparingly so it feels intentional—almost like a trace or echo—against the darker interior. This will help the emotional contrast read more clearly without overcomplicating the build.

Your artist references are appropriate for this scale. Both Albanese and Doyle work with miniature environments that feel immersive because of careful control over depth, texture, and lighting. Pay attention to how they use scale and restraint to suggest entire worlds in very small spaces.

For now, I’d encourage you to:

• Keep the concept simple and focused

• Let the violin’s interior shape do some of the work for you

• Avoid adding too many elements at once

This is a strong starting point, especially for a first installation project. Focus on clarity and atmosphere rather than explaining the full story, and you’ll be setting yourself up for success.