Roundels: Open Source 
Photo Constructions by Heather Cox
November 21, 2024 - January 22, 2025

Opening Reception: Thursday, November 21, 5:30-7pm

Artist Talk: Saturday, January 11, 2025, 3:00pm

Guild Gallery II

Hudson Guild Fulton Center

119 9th Avenue, NY NY 10011

Between 17th and 18th Streets

Subway: A, C, E to 14th Street in Manhattan

Gallery Hours 

Tuesday - Friday          10:00am - 5:00pm

Saturday January 11    1:30 - 4:30pm

and by appointment     212-760-9837

Limited hours on 12/24 & 12/31     9:00am-1:00pm

Closed on 12/25, 12/26 and 1/1

Heather Cox creates elaborate sculptural photo installations that fill the walls, windows, and floor of Guild Gallery II. Harkening back to the days before the preponderance of digital imagery, Cox takes an old-school approach to pixelation; slicing hundreds of donated analogue snapshots into thousands of circles, then reconfiguring and stapling them into idiosyncratic sculptural photo albums. The bite of the stapler, like the camera’s shutter click, fixes each photo to another, complicating the play between 2D and 3D surfaces.

Miscellaneous birthdays, vacations and sunsets melt into a mosaic of color, tone and pattern. As memory and materials fade, Roundels offers a moment to delve into our fragmented collective visual history. 

You Should Have Seen It!: A four-part zine about lost or destroyed artwork

Featuring stories and documentation of lost and destroyed artworks from Skowhegan alumni across 8 decades, the zine showcases 83 Skowhegan Alumni, curated by Rebecca Shippe (A '18) into four thematic books (“it was their fault”, “it was my fault”, “it wasn’t meant to be”, “it never was”), in addition to four commissioned essays. You Should Have Seen It aims to highlight the often ephemeral nature of art as well as the necessity of proper arts archiving by placing stories from a wide array of social contexts and media landscapes in conversation with one another. Free digital download available here.

Art won’t last forever. Heather Cox, MFA '98, would argue that artists often make their art intending for it to die one day. In fact, it’s Cox’s job as Executive Coordinator of the Conservation Department of the Whitney Museum of American Art to interpret artists’ wishes when it comes to the care and feeding of their greatest works.

From her studio in New York City, surrounded by shoeboxes, magnifying glasses, rulers, and a stapler collection, she explained, “I didn’t have to take organic chemistry. I’m not a conservator. I don’t touch the artwork, but am able to be a bridge between the administration of museum departments, other conservators, and artists.”

Cox and her colleagues at the Whitney weigh ethical issues as they try to answer the same important question over and over again: What was the artist’s intention?

One example is Alexander Calder’s 1926 Calder’s Circus, “a visitor favorite” at the Museum. The whimsical troupe of figures and animals is fashioned from found materials like fabric, wine corks, wires, and scraps of leather. Calder famously performed his circus in the U.S. and abroad.

Cox explained, “They started out as performative objects but now they are static. We have them carefully displayed in a light and climate-controlled environment. They were already fairly fragile to begin with—and the question now is how much do we interfere with that?”

Another example concerns The Ballad of Sexual Dependency by beloved SMFA alumna, Nan Goldin, ‘77. This seminal work is a diary of the 1970’s East Village punk scene composed of 690 35mm color slides shown in conjunction with a 45-minute loop of club anthems. While slides were the height of new technology forty years ago, Cox said that the medium is dying out and hard to preserve today.

“The contemporary art space is always changing,” she observed. “The work won’t last forever. We keep a master set of slides in cold storage and are in dialogue with Nan in her studio. She has questions about her originals. We have questions about our set. We are fortunate to be able to talk and get her thoughtful feedback. “

With her own practice, Cox has also examined questions of impermanence.

She dove into photography as an undergraduate at Mills College, conscious even then of how the printed image fades, blurs, or disintegrates over time. Before graduate school, she managed a photography gallery in San Francisco and a bookstore in Portland.

“Having had an eight-year break between college and graduate school, I was hungry to start an MFA program,” she said.

Cox was attracted to SMFA because Goldin had gone there–and for its interdisciplinary focus and relationship to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Having access to the Museum, taking challenging courses in art theory, and acquiring “a whole new language” for describing her work helped Cox find her footing as a mixed media artist.

After graduation, she moved to New York City and needed a day job to support her studio practice. "I dropped my resume off at all the major museums and miraculously got a call from the Whitney letting me know they had a position in their Exhibitions Department. I felt like I’d won the Golden Ticket,” she remembers.

The Museum has been a part of her life for 25 years because of that one unsolicited resume.

These days, Cox works at the Whitney three days a week and in her studio the other two. The job not only brings a degree of financial security but also focuses her studio time. There, she’s homed in on repetition, the precision of punching castoff photographs into full moon orbs and stitching them together with steel staples into pointillistic quilts of collaged color.

The Roundels series has more recently evolved into 3-D sculptures—many of them suspended from Cox’s ceilings, angling off her walls, and resting in half-finished states on her studio tables. Some of the completed works from the series were shown this fall in Paper Cuts, a group exhibition at the Elza Kayal Gallery in New York City.

During Covid, Cox’s focus fell on examining family genealogy and creating artwork using materials found around her home like spare buttons. While tracing her ancestry, she found that her grandparents had lived in a small town along the Ohio River that housed a button factory in the 1900s, where freshwater mussels from the river were used to manufacture buttons.

“A button today feels like such a utilitarian, throwaway object, but when they were first invented, they were regarded as a very fancy technological advance,” Cox said. "Shell buttons gave way to plastics and the local industry collapsed."

She found herself stitching buttons over children’s faces from old school photos—repeating the ritual with friends’ photos which they dropped off in shoeboxes. The ongoing series of portraits, Vibrant Matter, marked a rediscovery of Cox’s original medium of photography, but in a new form.

For Cox, the juxtaposition between the Whitney and the studio is exactly what is needed to keep her curious.

She urges other MFA graduates to realize how valuable their skillset can be in a museum setting. “Institutions are looking for people with creative thinking and problem-solving skills. I believe that these kinds of humanities-based backgrounds that SMFA provides are only going to become more and more needed and necessary,” she predicts. 

Readers, no matter their age or language, will delight in this wordless picture book that follows the journey of a simple circle traveling through colorful landscapes. Adventures await in this vibrant world filled with curious sewing notions and colorful batik fabric. Lush palettes and imaginative backdrops usher us through portals, over hills, and behind curtains: So… is a magically unfamiliar world made of familiar things. Intricately designed by NYC-based artist Heather Cox, this work is at once parable and art-piece, sure to give new voice to your everyday household objects. So… is a story about who we meet, what we acquire, what we discard, and how we are quietly transformed along the way.

Download a Press Release or Press Kit

"So… is an artist’s book by Heather Cox that elegantly animates familiar tools of sewing—thread, scissors, straight pins, bobbins, buttons, fringe, batik—into a visual theater that changes as the reader turns each page. So… is a soundless book which the reader can see, hear, and enjoy."

—Sabra Moore, artist and author of Openings: A Memoir from the Women's Art Movement, New York City 1970-1992

"Works of art in book form have tremendous power to transport their readers to new realms. So, along comes this exuberant work of art by Heather Cox that did just this for me, with exquisite style. So…speaks volumes in only a few pages, with no words at all. It follows the quirky and mysterious trail of a circle who, after many ups and downs and adventuring with someone new, becomes… someone new. The luxurious textile backgrounds tell stories of their own, offering more to discover and delight in at each re-reading. So… is a delightful gift. It is the kind of book that would easily inspire discussion and introspection for all ages. And it left me, just like the circle protagonist, changed. So… what’s better than that?"

—Karen Viola, book artist, KV Artworks