Brittany Gould's Art
Here is how one art reviewer described Brittany Gould's light sculpture, which was installed in a major Hong Kong restaurant:
"The artistry of the decor combinations depends on the ingenuity of the light arrangement, in this case, a memorable play of three-dimensional shapes, hidden lighting solutions, designer's lamps and, of course, the astonishing wall-mounted sculpture of light by Berlin-based artist, Brittany Gould."
Here's how Brittany described her art piece, "Swells":
Nothing subjective is constant. Like a body of water, what I think I understand about myself and about my life is in constant flux. Feelings about myself in the world, rise, ebb and morph like swells in the sea. Sometimes it feels like there is an ocean inside of my stomach, and sometimes it feels like just a stomach.
It is a strange feeling to feel connected with the universe around me and still so alone and uncertain. Swells is about this feeling. Letting being be. Like floating in water, to feel so a part of it, because it moves me how it moves, but no matter how it carries me, I will never be water.
I am drawn to the swells of water. Drawn to the movements of waveforms. They follow universal rules but they don't seem to. They seem to have a will of their own. Water makes it seem as if one can hold power over it because it is so easy to handle, but one cannot. It just goes.
My work is like this. I assert myself onto the material, but in a way I let it move me too.
From the Artist
In January 2013 I was fascinated with the process of learning; of becoming; of discovering. With this in mind, I created a sculpture for the Denver Art Museum Design Council called "Dreaming in Another Language." It was one of my first sculptures in this series.
I was interested with the process of learning a new language, skill, or beginning a new relationship with another person. Through the process of learning, one must at first navigate through the idiosyncrasies and strangeness of this new thing. In the beginning, we stumble through these moments as if we are blindfolded. But as we start to learn the words; one by one, the light brightens. We can start to understand the quirks and intricacies of this new task. With time and work, we eventually are able to speak the language. We dream, think, slang and curse in it; it comes natural.
In January 2013, I did not know that even six months later, I'd find myself in this same position I had just made this artwork about. In May, I traveled to Germany on a whim. Saved up some money from my waitressing job, and visited a friend. Through some guts and much needed spontaneity I decided to stay.
I acquired an artist's visa, which allows me to live and work here but only make a living through making artwork. I had never done that before. I always had another way of supporting myself. But I was here — so I opened up an Etsy shop, fixed up my website, made my artwork and crossed my fingers. It was scary, being a "real artist." It still is.
Three years in, I am receiving public and private art commissions around the world, and as well I am starting to dream in German. My fiancé is from here, and sometimes he also speaks English in his sleep. We are learning about each other, from each other, and through it we are building a language of our own. This new language we have built from scratch together. It's a mish-mash of our languages, our cultures, our being; and it's only our own; it's what's called intimacy.
My artwork reflect this. Every piece in my light sculptures are hand-drawn, hand-cut, hand-placed. I could find a faster way, but it would lose its intimacy, it would lose its humanness. I have my own language with my work — the way it shapes and moves about, and the light reflections it makes. The thousands of triangular pieces are a small but integral part of the form, each like a new word in the language I've learned. The progression it's made and every facet of the process has been through my own trials — the successes and the mistakes. I am proud of my work and I am interested in what language I will dream in next.
Thank you for your support and I am eternally grateful to be able to share my work with you today.
