Swallowed: 'Bucolia' at Transformer
feel the soft crush of faux grass under feet
For years, literally, I have tried to recollect the word bucolic after a professor from undergrad unpacked its meaning and its contrast to life in the rural south. In a now-defunct program, every class honed in on the unique qualities of rural communities and how they work, are conceptualized, and occasionally idealized. This was one of those moments where the ideal was cracked and fried.
When hunting for this word, the only phrase that would come to mind is “pastoral ideal,” which also feeds into the fantasy of rural human-environment harmony. Bucolic relates to “pleasant aspects of the countryside and country life.”1 My professor talked about the brutality of agriculture, bold considering we were having this conversation at an agricultural college, but anyone who grew up on a farm or even in proximity to one knows the truth of bucolic brutality.2
Outside of agriculture, rural communities face challenging economic decisions, often at the risk of sacrificing the land, a 2019 report found that around 52% of people detained by ICE, in horrific conditions, were located in rural areas, and let’s not even begin to dig into rural healthcare.34
Bucolic, the dream of a quiet country life is drastically different than reality.5
The title Bucolia resonated deeply, quickly - a pierce.6 But being present with the work at Transformer offered an otherworldly, more psychological plane to traverse.
The work was developed by MK Bailey during a residency at Hillwood where Bailey was surrounded by a living and growing archive: meaning the garden and estate at Hillwood are both actively sustained, and there is the more traditional collection of books, photographs, and references that the artist had access to.7
Bailey said she was able to use the “spent” flowers from bouquets that are replaced weekly to study and make cyanotypes with. The bouquets are replenished by the on-site cutting garden. During her artist talk, she marveled at this apparent “flower factory.” There are loose references to the flora she encountered there, both in the gardens and through documentation, which she amalgamated in the painted works. One identifiable reference is the gate outside of Hillwood is directly transplanted into the work Paradise Lost.
This series is new territory for the artist who had previously used lighter tones, even though the work was“thematically dark.” Here she embraces the darkness and finds rich colors manipulated by complex layering, shadowing, and sudden breaks of light.
The artist mentioned being frustrated with her previous work being described as bucolic and instead considered “bucolic as an affliction.” As noted at the beginning of this writing, bucolic can be an affliction for its flattening out of complex places and landscapes. It seems that Bailey experienced something similar with this labeling stifling her own work.
The primary figures in each of the works appear in their own realms, neither of this plane nor totally unanchored from it. The figures are in an intimate, meaning private, secluded space. They are, in parts, shrouded in shadows. In each work is a silhouette appearing in fragments, caught in motion either entering or exiting the frame.
Bailey was influenced by European art, clearly referenced in the primary figures’ forms, but these paintings take women out of set narratives where masculine forces are acting upon them, or about to, and instead are grappling by themselves, in their own worlds.
During her talk, she notes the origins of figures and their storylines: one was once lying dead and now is in motion, one was being attacked, but is now in a more ambiguous space, haunted, but not directly violent. I was struck by the shadow figures not appearing directly masculine. These people are haunted by shadows that contain no gender, that could be representations of their selves or former selves or malicious selves. They could represent the lasting impact of an outside force: like an intrusive thought, memory, fear. I recognized these forms and felt the soft crush of faux grass under my feet.
Bucolia closed this past weekend.
Keep up with Transformer for future shows and follow the artist here.
The Dessert + Menu will be available later this week in Part Two.
What is this? swallowed, like a play on consumption, a place where I talk about art
The source is Google. Google is the source (😭).
When I was a child, I turned my gaze when my uncle began to skin a deer he shot on my Grandmother’s peanut farm.
But if you want to, here’s a place to start. One doctor I went to only came to town once a week, rotating regionally between small towns. Another chastised me for having a nose ring, suggesting that I might be married and pregnant by now if I didn’t have one. 💀
Experience begs me to mention the people in rural areas who continue to do the necessary work of building inclusive, loving spaces. I’m looking at you rural librarians, art program facilitators, after-school program leaders, caring teachers, and advocates who work out loud and in secret — your work is invaluable.
Bucolia: bucolic + melancholy. Melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause. Melancholia: a 2011 film starring Kirsten Dunst who embraces the inevitable collapsing void.
The Hillwood Estate, Museum, and Gardens: “The former residence of businesswoman, socialite, philanthropist and collector Marjorie Merriweather Post.” Read her obituary here.