Joanne Steinhardt

19 x 29 x 35 inches dimensions variable

Shoes, shoe boxes, miniature lumber, acrylic paint, glue, Bristol board

So many aspects of identity are found in the collections within closets; not the least of which are in shoes. One of the first things that my sister needed to give up due to her Parkinson’s was her shoes. Three sisters and their mother are represented in cleaved shoes. A tiny closet, created inside her shoe, stands on the support of her sisters and mother illustrating not what is lost but rather that which is cherished and remembered.

61 x 23.5 x 20 inches with pedestal

Books, binding paste, Bristol board, carpet, paint, upholstery fabric, sculpey, newsprint, sand, foam core, and wire

My mother-in-law was one of the unhappiest and most frightened people I have ever known. As she aged, her once-large world shrunk to contain only her Queens apartment, her cat, and her collection of books. This is a replica of her living room is carved into a stack of books saved from her apartment. She tried to not have the past define her future but no matter her efforts she could never overcome her past or her fear.

41.5 x 15.5 x 4.25 inches

Wood, acrylic paint, Bristol board, miniature lumber, wire, glue, guitar

When this person’s life was defined by fear and suppression this instrument was the refuge where expression and emotion lived. The trust to let anyone else into this fortress of personal protection takes a lot of courage. The interior is a replica of their safe haven, desired in reality but never achieved. I have had both the privilege to peek in and the frustration of being held out. I forever stand by them with love and patience.

6 x 5 x 2 inches dimensions variable

Aluminum, wood, sculpey stain, acrylic, glue

From the kitchen of my mother to me. These spoons have measured countless times.

27 x 20 x 7 inches dimension variable

Cast iron, coffee filters, acrylic and watercolor paint, wire, wood, sculpey, clay, glue

My mother was an avid and gifted gardener. Her gardening was a perfect balance of her dichotomy of a need for control and her odd ability to let things simply be as they are. In an old pan passed to me from her, I have inserted essential elements from her flower gardens: clustered roses, tulips lining a path, strawberries in a pot, a lone sunflower, and vines of wisteria.

8.5 x 6 x 6 inches dimensions variable

wood, coffee filters, acrylic paint, epoxy, dirt, bark, wire, sculpy, and antique heartshaped cookie cutter

Some things are forever out of place. One would not anticipate a fig tree to prosper and consistently bear fruit in New Jersey but alas through constant nuturing and care my Mother did just that. Not only did her fig tree survive; with her care it thrived.

3 x 6 x 3 inches

glass, wood, sculpey, wire, acrylic, stain, glue

This shattered vessel represents all women who are now left “less than;” shattered and reduced to lesser than equal humans by losing the right to their own autonomy of choice about their bodies. I was one of you. I am one of you. I will forever stand with you.

9 x 13 x 4 inches dimensions variable

Copper, coffee filters, acrylic paint, wire, wood, sculpey, hemp cord, clay, glue

One of my mother's copper pans becomes a safe, contained place to insert memories of the gardens she cultivated. In miniature, the pan transforms into a combination of edible gardens that has features from my mother's herb and berry patches in South Orange, full vegetable gardens propagated with incredible variety on Long Beach Island, trellises filled with beans and cucumbers from the Hunterdon Valley, and her strawberry patch in Florida. Through the solitary process of gardening combined with her extraordinary culinary skills, she found a way to feel nourished - at least in this perspective.

14” x 10” x 10”

wood, coffee filters, acrylic paint, epoxy, dirt, bark, wire, hemp, and antique sandwich pan

My mother had so much yet coveted that which she could not attain. Her mental illness made her only see what she didn’t have leaving her consistently unfulfilled. This is a replica of an actual magnolia tree located on Ridgewood Road in South Orange, New Jersey, the town she lived in for 50+ years of her life. She wanted this tree and, of course, she could not have it.

36 x 36 x 24 inches dimensions variable

Custom silk top hat, paper, acrylic paint, canvas, wire, wood, sculpey, clay, glue

"Poppy," born in 1884, immigrated to the US from Romania in 1900. He was a professional inventor and a leader in the plastics industry. Upon his retirement, Poppy started his second life as a painter. He told me his hat was who everyone thought he should be and who he costumed as, but the painter was who he was. That impacted me.

In this context, my grandfather's top hat in its original box contains his painting studio: his world, his object, but my interpretation of how he affected me. Referring to a specific painting of Poppy's I inherited, fruits and books are arranged in a still-life, and a tiny painting replica sits on an easel under a powered clamp light. A miniature top hat sits on the floor under a box of paint tubes. Installed beside the sculpture is the original painting.