Fountain for Matt Freedman 2021 Polystyrene, silicone caulk, cornstarch, acrylic paint, paper mache clay (flour, toilet paper, glue, joint compound), aluminum mesh, wire, painter’s tape, Flex Seal, polyurethane, expanding spray foam, plastic bag, showerhead, vinyl tubing, fountain pump, epoxy putty, wall shelf, brackets, water
50 x 31 x17 inches     This piece is dedicated to our beloved professor Matt Freedman who passed away in October 2020. Matt radiated humor, wisdom, curiosity, and love, and he encouraged us to work without restraint. Whatever it is that moves people to make things, it felt like Matt was connected to the very heart of that impulse, and just by listening and engaging in conversation with him one felt more grounded. I wanted to make something in his spirit, without restraint, from a place of love and grief: a fountain that would both celebrate and weep for Matt.      It is strange that we cut off the life of something living (flowers) in order to honor a life that has just ended. A fountain persists, it cycles without stopping, taking in and spitting out, but even it is dependent on the grid of electricity. We depended on Matt’s care and insight, and it is a profound and enduring loss that we have felt since his passing.       What role do objects play in psychological healing? In grief and mourning? My interest in fountains is due in part to their performance of something like an unending catharsis. In fountains I have made over the past few years, this has taken the form of peeing, leaking, overflowing, and weeping. I am curious about this ability of fountains to appear celebratory while performing a great, perpetual grief. Shrines interest me, especially small-scale, personal shrines, because of their play between object and architecture, religious belief and private devotion.       I am drawn to psychoanalytic thought because of its recognition of an unknowable element of our being, one that cannot be revealed through introspection alone. That this unknowable element can only be glimpsed through a strange and gradual process of relating to another person, through the interpretation of distorted dream images and narratives, and by the act of making external what is internal, is to me a deep and lasting mystery. In my practice, I ask myself what role art making might have in this process and search for ways to prod at this mystery through form and material.     Jane Fentress is an artist and educator based in Philadelphia who works primarily in drawing and sculpture. She received a BA in Visual Art and English Literature from the University of Chicago and an MFA in Interdisciplinary Art from the University of Pennsylvania.