For Lydia Ricci, a broken pencil, outdated forms, long-ago paid bills, and tattered bits of fabric are prime materials for her elaborate, small-scale worlds. The artist credits her parents’ obsession with collecting as the beginning of what’s grown into a scrap-centric process.
“My mother was an immigrant from the Ukraine who could improvise anything when we didn’t have exactly what we needed, which was most of the time. And my Italian father hasn’t ever thrown anything away because one day it might be useful, or some day he might get around to fixing it,” she writes.
Today, Ricci pieces together bits and baubles collected for the past 30 years that many other artists might relegate to the trash. Cardboard, candy wrappers, vintage tumblers, and so much more form uncanny miniatures that she refers to as “observations of what people anticipate, complain about, or muse over. Fleeting, unscripted exchanges—mundane yet deeply human—are a continual source of inspiration.”
Meticulous and playful, the resulting sculptures retain a messy, raw quality that is itself a collection of the original materials. Rather than mask irregularities and signs of wear, Ricci leaves traces of chaos and disorder that capture an authentic quality of modern life.
Find much more from the artist on Instagram.
