Debbie Lawson is known for her large-scale sculptures of life-size animals cloaked in ornamental carpets. Starting with an armature of wire mesh, masking tape, and Jesmonite resin, she meticulously cuts and tucks Persian carpet around every limb, building a surface that looks unbroken. As if the animals have materialized from within the textiles and are temporarily frozen in a stage of metamorphosis, we encounter them on the verge of making a move.
In the artist’s solo exhibition, In a Cowslip’s Bell I Lie at Sargent’s Daughters, she provokes “questions about the relationships between decoration and nature, craft and camouflage,” the gallery says. The title is a line from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, when the spirit Ariel sings about freedom and the carefree, even charmed connection to nature following his release from forced servitude to the sorcerer Prospero. Several of the works seen here, including “Wild Dog Sundown,” “Red Eagle,” and “Black Cougar,” are included in the show.
Lawson draws on the lineage of nature motifs in art, especially wildlife. She alludes to “the natural and animal forms hidden within decorative forms and patterns, from the frescoes of Pompeii to French Rococo moldings to Venetian stone carvings—the designs of William Morris and even the New York Public Library’s lions,” says a statement. Think clawfoot tubs, heraldic animals carved into hearths and other decorative interior elements, and the more modern form-meets-function works of Les Lalannes, which often incorporate birds and mammals into designs for benches and lamps.
The dialogue between art and decor parallels inherent tensions between interiors and the outside world—refinement and domesticity versus nature or indeed, the wilderness. Lawson also thinks about the gendered history of home life and craft, which has long been been associated with “women’s work.” This is deeply personal for the artist, as textile- and art-making go back generations in both her family and her hometown of Dundee, Scotland. She says, “I’m also thinking about women, including some of my near ancestors, so often confined by the constraints of the patriarchal society in which they/we lived, trapped in the daily grind and unable to pursue their own considerable creative talents or fully inhabit the world.”
Lawson’s camouflaged animals manifest from the backgrounds of carpets, emphasizing emergence itself. As these wild animals—leopards, elephants, bears, and more—are more clearly defined, they don’t break free from their patterns. Rather, they are indelibly characterized by the textile and can be clearly recognized for their unique individual traits. It’s not unlike how craft, especially textiles that were historically relegated to domestic settings and considered at least a notch or two below “high art,” has intently disrupted the art canon in recent decades.
In a Cowslip’s Bell I Lie continues through May 30 in New York. See more on Lawson’s Instagram.
