Doris DeNudt | mi2pid

As a middle child of middle-born parents, I’m drawn to what sits in between. That in-betweenness runs through my work. I make composite paintings—images that shouldn’t belong together but land in the same space. What’s remembered, not described.

I have very little visual memory. I don’t recall places or events as complete pictures, but as fragments and impressions that have to be pieced together. I work much the same way, in repeated passes, letting each stage suggest what needs to happen next. Figures move through fragments of structure and geometry, shifting forward or falling back until the image settles into balance.

I began with crowds, learning people one face at a time until the crowd narrowed into the paintings I make now. The 2017 Inauguration series, built from a single gigapixel photograph, pushed me toward composite images and toward the gap between what happened, what remains, and how it is reconstructed.

In recent work, the paintings move from abduction to aftermath. The aftermath is a return, but not all the pieces fit the way they did before. The paintings settle into that gap, where fragments are rearranged and what is remembered matters more than what is literally seen.

Originally from Virginia and a graduate of Virginia Commonwealth University, I’ve lived and worked in southeast Michigan for nearly four decades.

Art prints available →