Brianna Bass
b. 1990. Knoxville, Tennessee
A verbal utterance is a flow of phonetic particles. Within and surrounding that flow, predictive cues are constantly at play, organizing and separating one word from another. Unstable, incomplete utterances amplify the search for any evidence that can metabolize abstract phenomena into concrete concepts. In my experience with hearing loss, I find that searching for this evidence induces a state of heightened awareness, urgent listening.
Paintings are utterances; particulate gestures constitute fields of chromatic data. In my work, the patterned map promises legibility as fixed parameters complete themselves. Through the generation of random events, the relentless, orderly hum dissolves into chaos, into ecstatic language.
Unwieldy systems bear witness to the fraying of meaning, setting up a mind game wherein all things are inherently untethered. In the building and breaking of legibility, the observer is drawn into a state of questioning, a listening vision of the moments in miscommunication when words become sounds, and when sounds become words.