Predators and Prey, 2015-2018 + 2020, 2021, photography/installation/performance, vintage fur coats and acrylic

A controversial item, the fur coat in contemporary society remains timeless. Historically representative of social status and wealth, now vintage-sourced and repurposed (though some have claimed I’ve ‘destroyed’ them). In my exploration of the animalistic, vicious side of humans combined with my daily experience living in New York City, the coats spawn social conflicts and dispute any time they’re in public. Individuals either feel disgusted or exhilarated, angry or elated. They contain outward messages full of rage and expose truths, but also are utilized as a protective shield, my second skin.

However, as I cover my body with the animals that have been hunted by man, I am confronted with a confounding thought: 

Am I the hunter, or the hunted?


Over Exposed, 2017, Vintage Mink and Acrylic, 20”x30”

 

YOU ARE NOT FOLLOWING ME, 2017, Vintage Mink and Acrylic, 20”x30

YOU ARE NOT FOLLOWING ME, (detail) 2017, Vintage Mink and Acrylic, 20”x30

 

PREY, 2015, Vintage Mink and Acrylic, 20”x30”

 

CORRUPTION WALKS IN DISGUISE, 2016, Vintage Mink and Acrylic, 20”x30”

 

Installation View, 2019, Pen + Brush, You Are Not Following Me, Over Exposed, Corruption Walks



PREY, 2018, performance at Pen + Brush, 90 minutes

The act of hunting, or being hunted - which one I am, which one you are. How these feelings and characters are continually in flux. For one hour I walked around the gallery, on the prowl, following men to the bathrooms, handing people unnerving notes, “i have been following you all day” “i know where you live” as well as aggressively photographing viewers with a disposable camera, flash on. For the remaining time, I morphed into prey, handing people notes desperately such as “no one in here will do anything” “get me out of here.” When someone is in trouble, who is it that helps? The remaining moments consisted of me laying on the gallery floor, dead. And at other times rapidly writing the names of unknown and openly known victims and predators around the globe. Initially, The coat was below photographs of mine on the wall, draped over a small chair as an installation. I walked in, took off my shoes, placed the coat on, left a note on the chair, and “began”. Att the “end” of the performance I placed the coat back in its installation place, put on my shoes, and left.


AM PM EST (clip), 2018, performance video, 4 minutes and 35 seconds

A perpetual rotation of paranoia, an invasion of one's being. This internal agony is not only inevitable but involuntary.  AM PM EST is a performance video that confronts notions of power and abduction. The video series is non-linear, created with a variation of different outcomes from multiple points of view; a reflection of hunt versus hunted / vise versa.  It projects around the clock anxiety, staged mental delusions with the perception of always being watched, hiding under the unwanted gaze of other people.

How many times have you looked over your shoulder today?

Installation View, AM PM EST


OPEN SECRETS, 2019, Photographic Film

Language repurposed from headlines and unsolved missing person cases Katelyn exposes open secrets. These are atrocious events that are swept under the rug, covered up and forgotten about. The language is blurry, barely legible and partially erased much like the stories they are based upon. Media diverts our attention elsewhere while predators hunt among us often targeting our children. Monsters don’t hide under your bed or in your closet. In fact, they are charming and manipulative. Their violence is unapparent and usually concealed behind a cloak of power. They can run for public office, CEO a corporation, start a cult, or be a celebrity you admire.  They are your unsuspected local priest, your boss, in your family and sometimes your closest friend or lover. 

Have you met one?

The Catholic Church, 2019, Photographic Film, Digital Inkjet Print, 28”x40”

 

The Sociopath, 2019, Photographic Film, Digital Inkjet Print, 28”x40”

 

“The Unreported Unsolved, 2019 Photographic Film, Digital Inkjet Print, 28”x40”

 
 

Installation View, Open Secrets

 
 

Instructions for Commuters (Clip), 2019, performance video, 3 minutes and 30 seconds

Instructions for Commuters is a sequence of directions for commuters that I have visualized in response to the ever present fear of being abducted by a cab driver. Everyday we step into cars with the expectation of being brought to our desired destination, alive. We relinquish control and trust complete strangers based on the generalized idea that people are what they appear to be.


Who are you?

 
 

Installation View, Instructions for Commuters

 

 Instructions for Commuters, posters, 2019, Placed in NYC Subways, Cabs, and Ubers, 8”x10” & 18”x24”


SHE WAS LAST SEEN, 2019-2020, performance/installation documented with photography, New York City

Markers of a violent past, SHE WAS LAST SEEN is an expression spoken or written within situations where there is no guarantee of rescue. A phrase repeatedly heard in the news or read in missing persons reports, Katelyn confronts forgotten about, unsolved or unreported traumas.  A handwritten brutal checkpoint SHE WAS LAST SEEN embodies a harrowing uncertainty. A marker of someone's presence, but expressed in a time of devastation and chilling absence. Any information following this phrase is generally “found dead” or continues to be “unsolved.”  

Katelyn began writing SHE WAS LAST SEEN on mattresses she finds on the street. Attacking them aggressively, taking a momento, and discarding them - paralleling the dark reality experienced by victims of violent crime. Katelyn has placed mattresses in site specific locations contingent upon historical areas of crime and abuse.

Have you seen her?

she was last seen in central park, 2020 installation documented with photography, 30”x40”


Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, (clip), 2019, performance, 80 minutes

Monsters do not hide under your bed or in your closet. They aren't bleeding out of their eyeballs and drooling out of their mouths. Everyday we let strangers into our apartment, hop in cars, send our kids to summer camp etc. A nonlinear performance, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes is a psychological sequence of scenes that speak about predation, violence, the bought and sold, and the everyday female experience. Using two free standing doors as representation of a space - dangerous or not. As well as symbolic of a shift in identity / persona.  Some scenes played multiple times, with different outcomes. Some scenes nothing happened at all. Audience members were recognized and at other times disregarded.

In times of desperation who are the onlookers who help and who chooses to ignore?