Recoding the West

The American West can be a difficult, often ambiguous, term to define due to the various contexts it encompasses and alludes to. It is complex and nuanced- existing across expansive landscapes, complicated histories, and convoluted philosophies. In one consideration, it is a geographic location yet, has no delineating- the landscapes gradually transition as do the communities within them. However, I might also make the argument that the West is more broadly, an attitude. It is an amorphous identity that permeates more broadly across regions. Once a laborious occupation, the cowboy has become an iconic symbol, and in many ways a costume. He is an interpretive character through which to attach or express one’s values and perspective; a crafted portrayal presented through rugged individualism, acts of “frontier justice” and strict “moral” codes. In many ways, it is this character portrayal I observe as key contributor to the hardline, reactionist ideologies taking hold in this present moment.

Through this emerging series of works, I strive to reconsider our understanding of the western cowboy hat- not as a kitsch cultural emblem, but as a charged artifact embedded in various myths, dominance, exclusion, and skewed narratives. Presenting these works through clay, they present competing notions of fragility and permanence. They are relics that are removed from their utility, symbolic of a history that clings to relevance through nostalgia and authority.

The term recoding has been bouncing around my mind for some time now. I think of this word in terms of how we as people put it into practice, what does that mean or look like? At its core, it is about change- changing how things exist and operate, changing how we communicate perspectives and understandings. Through composed narrative scenes, I gravitate to the use of silhouetted figures and images; they act as distilled symbols—recognizable yet deliberately reduced to their essential forms. They invite one to engage with the storyline through both historic framing and contemporary allegory. These banded narratives play upon the histories, tropes, and myths of the American West but subvert their contexts. Instead, they recode these symbols and narratives as reflections on the broader sociopolitical realities of today.

Replacement Theory

(2025) 12in x 14in x 4.5in

Porcelain, oxide colorants, glaze

Replacement Theory, is an ideologic framework which draws from the contemporary white nationalist belief which claims that white identity is under existential threat by demographic and cultural change. This narrative, while false, has become a potent and unnerving political unifier. Under a guise of protecting heritage and values, it fuels violent hierarchies and reactionary legislative shaping. The irony of this nationalist delusion lies in its hypocrisy. It ignores the horrific manner in which cattle replaced native bison, and white settlers replaced the land’s indigenous people. It represents a relentless push to recode these landscapes and governance in service of power and control.

Within this pictorial story, I impose new symbols and points of reference. In doing so, a counter narrative emerges. Behind an orderly line of cattle, I have chosen to depict a version of Picasso’s abstracted bull drawings. While Picasso’s depiction of the bull in his work varies in its intended symbolism, it can often be associated to themes of dominance, masculinity, and, in some instances, fascism. The bull is rendered as an abstraction, but so too is our understanding of the West- a place rewritten, distorted, and simplified. The bull looms over a line of cattle which, unlike bison, live within imposed mechanisms of strict control and artificial conditions.

The bison I have depicted being herded off a cliff’s edge, draws inspiration from the untiled photograph of a museum diorama (often referred to as Buffalo), taken by artist David Wojnarowicz. After losing his partner to the AIDS Crisis and later succumbing to the disease himself, Wojnarowicz’s photograph serves as an emotional and powerfully charged indictment against the government’s indifference and lack of empathy towards such an immense tragedy. In his image which depicts a herd of bison tumbling to their deaths over a cliff, Wojnarowicz parallels the extermination of the bison and indigenous people to Reagan’s disregard and fumbled address of the AIDS crisis.

Through subtle, sarcastic jabs and layered symbolism, I use this ornamented cowboy hat as a depiction of how history is rewritten through imagery, how unchecked authority cloaks itself in mythology and non-truths, and ultimately, how the past and present mirror each other in cycles of dominance and submission. The cowboy, once a figure of rugged independence, now a stage performer for power and masculinity. The bison, once a symbol of strength and American identity, falls once more into the abyss. It begs the question of who is entitled to define “heritage” and at what cost? This ceramic work is not a somber memorial, it is a confrontation.