In a way, the lawn is already a drawing--a flattened interpretation of nature, a manicured version of wilderness--where straight lines regulate growth and greenery is neutered to a carpet.
Between lawn-mower stripes and planting patches, we draw on the lawn as much as we look at it as a drawing of something else. The lawn is the largest ornament one can find across America, and is decorated by its own ornamental language: from plastic flamingos to the garden gnome.
For this installation, we are re-drawing the lawn. We begin with the elements of the front yard--its fence, its trees, and a collection of gnomes--and look at each as bridging a divide between form and planar geometry. Everything becomes both a placeholder for itself as well as an implied volume in the space of the room: a stand-in that unfolds when juxtaposed with its quasi-flat neighbors. In the end, the lawn reframes the gallery as a place for object-like drawings, and drawing-like objects. Hosted by 1.5 Rooms.