25

and forwards as they please. Entering into the Womb Room is transformative — suddenly you find yourself crawling like an infant into a starry nexus of multi-universal life. Mirrors reflect speckled light, crystalline structures refract a swampy twilight haze. Soak up the warmth of the intergalactic primordial soup. Across all of Jess’ artistic disciplines, there there’s a “really big subwoofer.” Pulling from Saskatoon’s aesthetic, Jess produced a 17-minute track with Paul, directing the piece in the direction of Erik Satie and Brain Eno, ranging from classical to instrumental music not unlike a soundtrack for a meditation, “… but not New Age-y, hopefully.” It’s a tender piece of music that loops, reminiscent is a common denominator: “I draw a lot of inspiration from nature and patterns in nature, so it was important to have that element be a part of it.” Not just incorporated into the imagery, nature was also deeply connected to the materiality and process of forming the Womb Room. “I made a lot of casts of crystals, fruits and vegetables — cucumbers, romanesca, bananas … and cupcakes.” Instead of plastics or silicone, Jess opted for cement mixtures and plaster to cover the cavernous walls in organic textures and shapes reminiscent of barnacles, tree bark and mineral formations. Much of the paint she used was made from natural pigments, including ammonite — fossilized mollusks from the Late Cretaceous period that are naturally found in Colorado. Within the decision to use natural sculpting materials comes a relevant experiment: She’s unsure of how they’ll hold up. “I’m pretty relaxed about how things wear and tear … But it’s the nature of the space. The Womb Room is an organic space so if you were to add elements to it or take elements away, it can transform a bit. It’s its own natural cave, and it’s still going to hold the concept as time changes it and people touch it.” And Jess didn’t have to forsake her textile dreams entirely: She used felt “to create weird organic things … that live on the ceiling.” Among them, you’ll find little creatures hiding in there that she let her daughter paint. So, her animals make an appearance in the room as well. “My favorite creature is inside … he’s like a little Buddha in the corner, he’s blue, and that’s my favorite one for sure. I wish I made casts of them so that I could make a million of them.” SOUND Since so many elements of her installation gesture towards the formation of life, she gave it a heartbeat. Like Numina, one of Convergence Station’s four worlds, both of Jess’ rooms are multisensory experiences, and sound plays a major role in creating a whimsical, surreal atmosphere. In her ambient music practice, she collaborates with her husband, Paul, under the title Saskatoon, and uses field recordings in her work. For the Rainbow Room, Jess again had her daughter pitch in, recording her as she made “crittery, creepy sounds” for the creatures; she then passed the audio on to her husband, who added delay, echo and reverb to make them even creepier. Sound was very important to her, especially its movement. “I wanted it to be very visceral, I wanted there to be a lot of bass, and a lot of movement of sound, bouncing sound through the speakers throughout the room to have it feel like a realistic atmosphere.” Gleefully, she mentions that of bands like Explosions in the Sky and Boards of Canada, and composers like Joe Hisaishi and Yann Tiersen. Throughout it, there’s a heartbeat for the creature of the universe, purposely set outside of the rhythm of the music: “It’s supposed to be a found sound.” A rise and fall of piano provide a wistful melody, twinkles of running water trickle through, strings echo like thoughts inside the cavern, and a gentle lull of bass glows with warmth. “This room is influenced by the moment when you’re underwater and sound is different, and everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion — I wanted that feeling, where everything’s cozy and safe. I mean, it’s the Womb Room!” COMPLETION Jess’ process of developing the Rainbow Room and the Womb Room is fitting — an inkling of an idea birthed, imaginary animals gestated and come to life, a universal cosmic heart given its beat — it was built by acts of creation to represent, well, creation. “I was one of the first artist contractors working in the space … It was an industrial skeleton.” There was steel and concrete. But once she returned before the official opening in September 2021, she saw the transformation. She walked in and thought, “Oh wow, they really did it again. It’s just so magical. Being a part of something that’s really creative in this way is such an honor.” And while she was unable to contribute to House of Eternal Return in 2016, the family she was building at the time helped her build an entire origin of worlds within two rooms. “I was really excited to bring my husband and my daughter to this space because their voices and music and work were really a part of it. Sitting in the Womb Room and listening to the music and being in that space [with them] was really special, and so wholesome … it was really sweet.” Now, on the other side of the process, she feels a natural completion: “When I first began working with Caity, I told her what my idea was with the Womb Room and the animal heads. And I think that my vision came through. Everything that I set out to do, I did. It’s cool to see that come to fruition.” Jess invites visitors to “become their 4-year-old self” within her space. And it lets you do just that. MEET THESE CREATURES AND MORE AT CONVERGENCE STATION IN DENVER, CO: MEOWWOLF.COM/VISIT/DENVER CHECK OUT OTHER PORTALS NEAR YOU: SANTA FE, NM; LAS VEGAS, NV; GRAPEVINE, TX; AND COMING SOON ... HOUSTON, TX! MEOWWOLF.COM/VISIT

26 Publizr Home


You need flash player to view this online publication