patricia miranda : work : work : work : work : elegy of forgetting

witness, elegy of forgetting, 2014, mixed media installation. Oak gall wasp nests, handmade oak gall ink, glass separator, torah parchment, print on paper, linen tester magnifiers, digital photographs, wire, insect pins

This project posits the oak gall wasp nest, source for one of history's most common inks, as silent witness and participant in the writing and recording of history, and of the ongoing destruction of libraries in war and conflict. Oak galls were used for ink from ancient times up to the 20th century, in the Dead Sea Scrolls, all European manuscripts before the printing press, the Declaration of Independence, and Hebrew Torah, which is still written with oak gall ink.

The 16' scroll catalogues my research of every library recorded as destroyed or severely damaged in human conflict, starting with the Library of Alexandria up to the date of this project in early 2014. Ink, made from oak galls, drips from the funnel onto the scroll, "re-writing" a new history. Drawings, on calf-skin vellum prepared for Torah, explore the oak gall, its scientific properties, and the recipe for ink. Magnifiers depict photographic images of library destruction. The list grows, as libraries are still being targeted, sometimes collateral damage, sometimes in a deliberate attempt to rupture a culture. This is part of an expanded project using materiality as a lens through which to view larger stories.

TEXT: Witness, elegy of forgetting

Witness: elegy of forgetting

The Witness Projects reflect my longtime work with process-oriented methodologies integrating raw materials as medium and content. Oak gall wasp nests were the source for one of history's most common inks, from ancient times to the 20th century, as well as for a dye in paint, textiles and carpets. The word ink comes from the Latin work "encaustem", to burn in, from the acidic nature of the ink, which bites into the substrate (also allowing for palimpsest). Oak galls are formed by the laying of eggs by the small oak wasp onto oak leaves and branches, and, high in tannin and gallic acid, are mixed with ferrous sulfate to make a permanent black ink. This ink was ubiquitous, used in the Dead Sea Scrolls, all European manuscripts before the printing press, the Declaration of Independence, and Hebrew Torah, which is still written with oak gall, or iron gallic, ink.

This project posits the oak gall as a silent witness and participant in the writing and recording of history and the ongoing destruction of libraries in war and conflict. The scroll across the floor lists my research into this destruction, listing every known library recorded as severely damaged or destroyed in human conflict. The funnel drips ink, handmade from oak galls, onto the scroll, obliterating this history. Drawings on calf-skin vellum prepared for Torah, explore the oak gall, its scientific properties, and recipe for ink. Magnifiers depict photographic images of library destruction. The last dates on the scroll are 2014, when the work was completed. Libraries are still being destroyed, sometimes as collateral damage, sometimes in a deliberate attempt to rupture a culture. This is part of an expanded project using materiality as a lens through which to view larger stories. These projects articulate how the material of our world reveals how we are not separate from nature, culture, and history, but embedded actively and continually within it.

Patricia Miranda 2014

elegy of forgetting

An Icompendium Site