Indiscreet Objects
Elizabeth Switzer
Our bodies make us worry.

They are always leaking, breaking, and sitting themselves just outside the realm of what we consider socially acceptable. It is this fear of the body that is a catalyst for my work.

My practice lends itself to the obsessive; continually counting, measuring and recording, as I seek to elicit humor and exaggeration through gross fascination with the feminine dis-eased body. I seek out the rather mundane effect of illness on a person’s sense of self: the changes in day-to-day behavior, the monitoring of intake and output.

This concept takes a multitude of forms and the physical content of my work is ever changing, while the repetitive act remains the constant. In my practice, one is never enough. I make use of excess, as I seek to overwhelm my viewer and create in them a sense of discomfort as if they have accidentally wandered into someone’s bedroom or were caught looking in the medicine chest.

In my work every nightmare, disease, painful insult, or bad memory has been obsessively reiterated. Repetition becomes the marker of madness and an absurd gesture at comfort, like a child rocking itself to sleep.