Born in 1984
Lauren Pascarella was born in Hollywood, FL in 1984. She studied at New World School of the Arts in Miami, Florida from 2003 to 2007, majoring in Photography. After completing her BFA, she relocated to New York City. There, she completed her MFA in Photography from Parsons, The New School. She has shown her work in various group shows in both Miami and New York City since 2006 and in 2014 had her first solo exhibition at the MDC Museum of Art + Design in Miami. She is currently working in cross-disciplinary genres, including New Media and digital photographic installations. She lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.
Destruction may be the inevitable first impression that one has when considering my body of work. Overturned furnishings; human limbs repositioned; and any number of twisted, upended, and scattered everyday items arranged haphazardly in loose stacks are commonplace occurrences in my photographs and installations. But demolition is not my intention.
My work attempts to recognize the fact that all useful things, including people, are comprised of somewhat standard parts—elements that when arranged in the appropriate fashion work in concert to achieve a greater good. Dissemble these components, however, and what’s left is a collection of ornaments that range from the simple to the elaborate. All creations, whether made by Nature or Man, are developed from baser materials, and with the proper apparatus, can be broken down to atomic particles. With the subjects of my images, however, the destruction is arrested almost immediately after it begins, leaving entirely recognizable, if not functional, components. The remains are salvaged and reassembled to create a new construction, often with some modifications: a bend, a stretch, a warped line—a hint that what the observer is looking at is not quite what it seems.
Due to the fact that my process utilizes photographs of printed and manipulated photographs, I have the ability to shift perspective. At times, the flat photographic images behave just as if they had the depth of their real world counterparts. In other instances, they are arrayed in a manner that wouldn’t be possible without shedding a dimension.
When examining my work, the viewer is confronted with an unsettling situation that demands correction. Whether the subject is a single item or a cluster of disjointed objects, the mind will attempt proper placement, but without satisfaction: these are machines that cannot be hammered back into service by the tinkerer.
What was once achieved is now unquestionably lost, and no amount of unbending, sorting, or shuffling can restore it to its former self. Not what it used to be, not what it was meant to be, but something altogether new.