Michelle de la Vega

Sometimes it’s better not to read the artist’s statement (Corollary: It’s almost always better not to read the curator’s statement.) Affixed to a wall, the 300 delicate white pillows crafted by Seattle artist Michelle de la Vega for her Dream House installation defy obvious utility. They look too fragile for your couch. And forget about pillow fights. On closer inspection, they’re made of old architectural blueprints for residential designs long faded. They’re not the trendy new domiciles of Dwell or avant anything—mostly large suburban homes with yawning garages. The difference in scale between the diminutive pillows and cul de sac behemoths gives Dream House part of its poignant mystery: These headrests suggest obsolete dreams, the visions of the past. And indeed, per the artist’s statement, they are—the handiwork of her father, now in his 80s, who wasn’t an architect but obsessively sketched these designs. None of them were built. And today, their paper walls only enclose the air. BRIAN MILLER

Thursdays-Saturdays, 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Starts: Sept. 3. Continues through Sept. 26, 2009

 
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