Amy Gross’ faux plant life

Every so often, I come across an artist who just takes my breath away. Amy Gross is the latest culprit, and not only does her work speak to me on a very emotional level, it turns out she’s a pretty friendly person, too. Today I’m going to feature some pictures of her work and talk about why I love it so much, and next week I’ll share some of her own words about her process and her inspiration.

I was bitten by the gardening bug a year or two after I moved to Missouri from South Texas. I think it was a survival reflex — I often felt like studying flowers and plants was the only way I could survive January. But the style of garden I love is the kind where different types of plants tumble over each other in a riot of contrasting colors and shapes. Amy Gross’ biotopes are like the dreamland version of this garden, where nothing you see is what it appears to be at first glance.

When I first saw the biotopes, I was sure they were made of cleverly-arranged silk flower stems and leaves, or possibly some kind of cast media like latex or fiberglass. I was stunned to find that her materials list includes things like thread, yarn, paper, fabric. No found objects or silk leaves. (And by the way, thank you very much, Amy, for including a materials list instead of just saying, “mixed media.”) Upon closer examination, I realized that the grass and mosses in each little biotope are made of embroidery stitches. The mushrooms are paper or fabric with trompe l’oil textures printed on them, and underneath it all are more layers, including little lizards and birds and tendrils that might be reptiles or might be tree roots. I could stare at all that detail for hours.

Amy writes that the biotopes evolved from similar pieces which were encased in glass. I love that she decided to set them free. I saw an anime once about a world made of tiny bits of land that hovered around each other in the air, like islands in a three-dimensional archipelago. That’s what her biotopes remind me of. They’re powerful, almost dangerous expressions of untamed life. I often discuss my garden in terms of aggression (I have this militant groundcover that has imperialistic plans involving an invasion of the front lawn, if it could only get across the sidewalk…), and that’s how I see these pieces, as savage bits of beautiful wilderness that might try to take over their surroundings.

Via Daily Art Muse.