Doris Salcedo

In her work things that should be comfortable and familiar become strange and even terrible. This process parallels the distortion of reality that occurs when power and violence are used as means of social control. What comfort can be left in the bed one’s lover has been murdered in? What pleasure can one take in the intimate possessions of one’s spouse or child when they have been dragged away with no explanation? Objects retain traces of those who have used them. It is difficult to throw away such traces of an absent loved one, and yet it is equally difficult to continue using them as though nothing had happened.

For TRACE,  Salcedo’s installation included sturdy tables that, at first glance, looked like ordinary household furniture. Up close, however, they began to reveal a fragile covering of human hair. At first there was simply a subtle distortion of the appearance of the wood, but once the hairs were recognised the table metamorphosed into an animal presence. There was something terribly beautiful and yet repulsive about these hybrid objects. Like the memory of a loved one forever contaminated by the image of their death, Salcedo’s fusion of inanimate matter and human remains provoked a sense of abomination.

In another work, wardrobes are doubled so that one structure seemed to slide seamlessly in another. Time and space had been strangely loosened to allow this slippage. All the holes, gaps and cracks in the wood had been meticulously sealed with white cement. It was as if they had been rendered blind and mute, just like those whose silence was ensured by the threat of further violence.  This careful sealing of the cracks could have also been read as an attempt to keep something out or in. But in this case the ‘something’ was elusive, like the nebulous fear of some unforeseen tragedy. These memorials were housed in the Anglican Cathedral in Liverpool.

Although churches have traditionally been places of sanctuary, events in Rwanda during the mid ’90’s demonstrated that sometimes there was no refuge from the horrors of political violence.

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Courtesy of Jay Jopling, London
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Albright-Knox Art Gallery Buffalo, New York
Sarah Norton Goodyear Fund
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Doris Salcedo
Courtesy of Alexander and Bonin, New York
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Carlos and Rosa de la Cruz
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Courtesy of Jay Jopling, London
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Barbara Lee, Massachusetts
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1997
Wood, cement, metal and textile fabric
Collection of Moderna Museet, Stockholm
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1989
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Doris Salcedo
Courtesy of Alexander and Bonin, New York
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1995
Wood, cement, metal and leather
Collection of Anita and Burton Reiner, Maryland
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1991
Wood, cement, metal and cloth
The Carol and Arthur Golberg Collection. New York
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1995
Wood, cement, metal and vinyl
Collection of Carlos and Rosa de la Cruz
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1995
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Doris Salcedo
Courtesy of Alexander and Bonin, New York
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1997
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Doris Salcedo
Courtesy of Alexander and Bonin, New York
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral

Untitled, 1998
Wood, cement and metal
Collection of Doris Salcedo
Collection of The Tate Gallery. Purchased 1999
Exhibited at the Anglican Cathedral