at ease under trees

Assessing Final Project

Spending two days straight (minus 3 hours sleeping and some classes) in the basement kitchen, though having its depressing moments, was quite a unique experience. As people flowed in and out, the scent of their various meals changing with them, I became associated with the kitchen, and gained a special level of respect. People would ask my permission before using the microwave, and I was confused as one guy walked out saying, "thank you very much."

It was also very amusing/ akward explaining to every single person who entered the kitchen that 1) I was sculpting my parents' heads out of cake and 2) I was not doing it for some strange personal fulfillment. Although it was quite fulfilling, and I think I might continue cake carving for future celebrations. Once I explained myself, I got a lot of positive feedback, and I came to enjoy my makeshift support system. People stayed up with me up until 5 am, supporting me as I entered delirium at times...

Pictures of the process are above (starting from the bottom, up).

It took me about a full day (noon-5 am) to make one cake. I used my Grandmutti's recipe that my dad had loved growing up--Maraschino Cherry Cake. It was delicious, and the fumes actually made some people dizzy (which I am convinced is a good thing). I baked the cake in a giant soup vat borrowed from the dining hall in order to combine three batches and have a super tall cake to work with. To represent the division between the numbers of men and women who are stay-at-home parents, I put two cherries in my father's cake (for the 2 percent of men that stay at home) and 98 cherries in my mom.

Mom ended up being much more moist and delicious, nevertheless, my father was chosen first at my class' gallery exhibit. I set up a table with three placemats with plates, napkins, forks, and cups of water with the pictures I found on google taped on, and a sign that said "Homemade Cake-- Sit and Enjoy--Only 3 at a time, please." When I came back from looking at my friend's artwork, three people were sitting around the cake, but they had not cut into the cake. I insisted that they do so, and they asked where to cut. When I said it was up to them, the first person chose my father's cheek. Someone else walked up and sliced his nose off, and another his chin and lips.

I thought I would get upset watching people devour my parents, which I've labored over for so long, but everyone appreciated the cakes so much that it was a complete pleasure. Prof. Vivero remarked to me that I had become the host of the exhibit, and it surely felt that way. If I disappeared for a minute to make more cups, throw away trash or refill my water pitcher, I would come back to people waiting around the cake for me to supply them with plates and utensils. They trusted me, and relied on me for nourishment.

So, while I hope that those who saw/tried my cake came away with some new ideas, I can certainly say I learned alot from this experience. I felt the importance of the parent-child relationship and the role of nurturing. I explored its traditional association with feminity (when I told a boy I was glad to be out of the kitchen for once after working for so long, he said I sounded like the quintessential woman). I experienced creating an installation for the first time! And, I learned a few things about sculpture. Only one person responded to my project in a hesitant way--one of the professors, I think. He was not a fan of installation art, he said he prefered to browse art/sample my cake while standing, and resisted being seduced by the artists who desire people to take part in their experiment. I disagree with him completely, so I voiced to him that what I feel to be important is what the viewer gains from being exposed to art, and the level of one's involvement in the art determines how much they get out of it. One who maintaints a surface observation of a piece cannot gain the same understanding as one who chooses to immerse oneself in it.

I really like istallation art. And cake!

posted by kristine @ 11:38 AM