The figure on top could be imagined standing upright, but is presently laying down, too tired from the performance to continue. Our apprehension of the performer shifts as we are asked to observe its remnants, dissect what has been left behind, read the traces of life still visible after its collapse. The stage becomes an operating table; here lies KAYA.
Imagined as a painting from its conception, the work sustains this identity in different ways incorporating the medium either as base, frame, or background.
Green stitches run through its body, puncturing the various layers of mylar and vinyl at different points, holding certain parts together, while also tying other parts down, keeping them in their own space. Oil on mylar, leather belts, grommets, vinyl, epoxy, c-print, aluminum, wire, cotton, spray paint, meat hooks, peened grab bars. This is what the body is made of, an accumulation of materials that have accrued over time, added to whenever KAYA is exhibited.
The different pieces sometimes blend together, mixing into a whole and at other times stick out at awkward angles, protruding from the body haphazardly, being able to be absorbed only so far.
A violent crashing together of the work of Kerstin Brätsch and Debo Eilers.
A Painting become Monster.
The real girl Kaya, now aged 18, is a starting point to the project, but the collaboration KAYA exists in a completely different paradigm where the energies of the different collaborations crucial to it take shape. Going beyond the mere labor of the two artists, the work reflects a host of other relationships (a community stitched together) that adds to its growing form. Not only involving people brought in from the outside, the work also includes within itself a portion of the institution, be it a museum or gallery, as part of its process.