Ilene Sunshine is a New York City-based artist who uses an array of eclectic materials— leaves, plastic bags, discarded toys, scavenged tree branches— to explore the interface of nature and culture. Ranging from large-scale site projects to intimate drawings, her work has been exhibited widely in the U.S. and internationally— currently on view in The Alchemy of Place, Gallery Commonweal, Bolinas, CA; and recently featured in a solo show Beyond Words, Metaphor Projects, Brooklyn, NY. Her work is in various collections including the Victoria and Albert Museum (London), and Memorial Sloane-Kettering Cancer Center (NYC). She has received fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts, Dieu Donné Papermill, The Constance Saltonstall Foundation, Ucross, and MacDowell, among other awards.

Question:

The reuse of discarded materials throughout your work reminds me of the phrase attributed to the Hippocratic Oath, “First, Do No Harm”.  You accomplish this through recycling but more notably you intervene with the materials as little as possible. In your most recent work, the transformation of branches into sculpture is done with a light touch, keeping your willful impositions to a minimum. How do you compose without dominating? How do you maintain the balance between control and no manipulation at all?

Answer:

I yield to my materials; this is especially so with my current work from the pandemic era. I’m cajoling twigs into a relationship with cord— a negotiation between hard and soft, brittle and supple. Those physical properties help determine the outcome. The cord is malleable— it responds to gravity and sort of does what it wants. I have to respect that. Moreover, I rely on the way air is corralled by the cord. Sometimes there’s a billow, other times a tautness. Those resulting shapes are essential; I’m using twigs and cord to frame air. That’s what enchants me most— how a space can be empty, yet full of presence. I’m always on the lookout for that. When pieces are in progress, I often flip them around to see how they’ll change. So, though I’m technically the maker, it’s a matter of me paying attention to how these materials behave under certain circumstances.

c9 (luna), 2021, scavenged twigs, cord, embroidery thread, 17 x 11 x 14.5 inches, photo: Alan Wiener

Twigs also provide something unique. Even though they’re sourced from dead tree branches, the life force that shaped them is still palpable. I’m tapping into that while highlighting their distinct qualities— the subtle color variation of different tree species, but also the twigs’ quirky gestures. Again, I’m being responsive to them. When I’m choosing which ones to use from the stick pile on my studio floor, it’s as if I’m plucking from a heap of previously-drawn lines. A sort of conjuring happens; the twigs come back to life in a new context. This revitalization is always a surprise. I don’t have preconceived ideas of how the pieces will take shape. I follow their evolution. Some grow into complex forms (c15, for example), while others emerge as rather succinct contours. There are those that hang on the wall, needing pressure behind them (c15); others float, suspended from the ceiling (c9; c19).

c19 (portal), 2022, scavenged twigs, cord, embroidery thread, 81 x 26 x 3 inches, photo: Alan Wiener

But my process really begins during long walks in the park (essential since Covid’s arrival)— alert to the unique light of the day, the shifting seasons, the habits of various trees, birds and other creatures. Scavenging sticks is part of my immersion in the moment, of feeling alive and in tune with nature. That said, I adore the city. At the crux of my work is a proposed union of grown and constructed (including a subtle tension inherent in such a marriage). Regarding color choices, I’m either matching embroidery thread to twig or using a bright hue for contrast, like the flash of a cardinal’s wing in the winter woods.

c15 (late bloomer), 2021, scavenged twigs, cord, embroidery thread, 48 x 33 x 10 inches, photo: Alan Wiener

c15 (late bloomer) – detail, photo: Alan Wiener