Maddie McNeely

Upon entering the carefully curated space of the sculptor and installation artist Maddie McNeely, we are met with an intriguing, low-to-the-ground sculpture. Atop 168 uneven artisanal briquettes sits a giant crafted walnut cut in half. It is made of carved walnut wood, and its scale is as puzzling as it is inviting. On closer examination, we start noticing rough-edged pink ribbons – reminiscent of industrial flagging tape – gently interwoven with the briquettes, along with true-to-size glossy matches, a tiny toy-like axe, peach pits, fragments of ceramics retrieved on the shore, and many more embedded details. From the macro walnut to the micro axe, this sculpture-installation plays up different scales at once, all the while drawing on forests’ rich visual grammar.

On the wall of McNeely’s studio are wooden abacus-like structures, interspersed with fascinating wooden eggs. Hung from the ceiling is a soft ladder made of light-toned textile-enveloped ropes, woven by McNeely, and recycled wood. Different-sized eggs resurface here too, placed on various steps of the ladder, giving the impression that we are interrupting them mid-climb. But even though there is a playful aesthetic, something more ominous emerges from the slipstream of the installations. The matches remind us of the potential for the briquettes to be set ablaze, signaling the unpredictability of wildfires; the axe gestures toward industrial clear-cutting; the eggs serve as a reminder of the precarity of the situation – we are “walking on eggshells,” as it were. At a time when wildfires are increasingly common and clear-cutting is more loosely legislated, thinking of and with the forest – and the rich ecosystem that it hosts – is now more pressing than ever. Having extensive experience with reforestation and fighting wildfires, McNeely is familiar with the growing struggles faced by Canadian forests. And so, the artworks created as part of this residency read as a profound, yet critical, celebration of those forests.