"Self-Portrait by The Artist’s Mother, 1976." 2019. Beeswax, gold leaf, steel, plaster. (Image courtesy of Los Angeles Nomadic Divison)
"Self-Portrait by The Artist’s Mother, 1976." 2019. Beeswax, gold leaf, steel, plaster. (Image courtesy of Los Angeles Nomadic Divison)BCA Studio Resident
A trans-disciplinary story-teller, veronique d’entremont (they/them) explores personal and historical narratives through artifacts, site-referential materials, non-traditional procedures of making, and collaboration with non-human kin. They look to syncretic traditions and applied magic for practices that mirror their own relationship to materials and process. The artist approaches personal content as research and as spiritual practice, creating interactive installations as spaces for discovering poetic entanglements and holding experiences of trauma. Through decentering dominant human narratives, veronique seeks pathways toward healing our relationships to ourselves, each other and the lands on which we live. Whether artwork is composed of cemetery dirt and human cremains, or burnout castings designed to release a curse, veronique believes objects can hold memory and that a sculpture can also be a spell.
veronique has been a BCA Studio Resident since 2022.
“Their Body Became (An Antenna, Transmitting the Message of God)” 2021. Cemetery dirt, clay, canvas, the ashes of the artist's mother. (Image courtesy of Los Angeles Institute of Contemporary Art)
“Their Body Became (An Antenna, Transmitting the Message of God)” 2021. Cemetery dirt, clay, canvas, the ashes of the artist's mother. (Image courtesy of Los Angeles Institute of Contemporary Art)
“A Location From Which They May Watch Us (Observation Hive).” 2019-2022 Feral colony of honeybees gathered by the artist, glass vitrine, plastic tubing. (Image credit: Ed Mumford)
“Made Real, By Process of Annihilation.” 2019. Bronze cast through “burnout” process, steel nails, bell, button and liver of sulfur. (Image credit: Ed Mumford)
“A Reproduction of The Trauma, or, A Portal Through Which Love May Enter.” 2019. Inherited table linens, architectural rubbing made with charcoal from a church fire, clothes line, clothes pins (Image credit: Ed Mumford)