Artificial Arrangement
Michelle Gonzalez Valdez
Faux flora thrives in a humble house that doubles as an art gallery known as Sala Diaz in San Antonio, Texas. Artist Leigh Anne Lester cultivates genetically modified plants through layered, graphite drawings on mylar. Lester, owner and curator of Cactus Bra Space at Blue Star Arts Complex, says her work exists in a time when humans often have a hand in altering the fundamental structure of natural processes.
Tracings of 15th century botanical catalog drawings overlap one another in ghostly, pregnant poses as if each blossomed from the same seed yet followed a different path of cell division. The pith of the artist’s drawings and sparse sculptures dwells in its ability to convey scientific significance. Over centuries, botanists and apothecaries utilized drawings similar to Lester’s graphite tracings to concoct medicinal tinctures. Today, this folk remedy path has lost its charm for the glistening ersatz of perfectly manufactured crops and livestock. Science has left no seedling unopened, no animal ova unsliced. Lester takes viewers into that world of predetermined horticulture.
Inside her drawings, a precarious greenhouse flourishes with plants that seem fragile yet unfamiliar. Titles of works in "Artificial Arrangement" deserve their own accolades with mythical, categorical references such as: Latherodcerinympyrusiumnthehaca Tubeincaminocaerrosurnatruleasum. Though the concept of botanical drawings seems static, Lester circumvents conventional renditions by purposefully plucking each subject at the apex of its existence. Buds of succulents and clusters of circuitous roots emerge beneath one another like freshly clipped centerpieces. Each extension of a stamen or petal evokes a subtle suggestion of pregnant potential. However, viewers may find a sense of projected longing where something may not grow at all, given each plant’s new set of genetic coordinates. In her own words, Leigh Anne Lester points out the connections between eugenics and the ubiquitous transmogrification of food and plant.
The inchoate forces propelling Lester’s body of work began with questions of hereditary diseases and eugenics: How is it acceptable that in the span of our lifetime we will see something that is integral to the balance of our existence, no matter how distant or insignificant to our lives, go missing? What takes its place? What happens to the "balance"? The idea of generating something newer and better means a possible aberration or sacrifice of what we know.
This concept of improvement upon nature’s flaws guides the artist into fertile territory. The invisible strings that pull and perpetuate undesirable traits manifest in the hand-sewn stitching of a solitary, glistening, clear vinyl sculpture at Sala Diaz. The Plexiglas base offers an oasis. Its manufactured conglomeration of polymers shimmering above the scuffed surface of weathered wooden floorboards. Petals of plastic appear to shun sunlight and dwell in another space sans chlorophyll and water. The piece stands over five-feet high and gives a gentle nod to Eva Hesse’s talent for high contrast and feel for otherworldly connections. Lester says the importance of human manipulation adheres to tampering with organic, archaic and otherwise flawless processes. The need to purge undesirable characteristics from both human and plant DNA creates space for a palpable utopia where memories of pure, natural states become transparent and vulnerable. An emphasis on artifice surfaces through Lester’s ability to both intrigue and invest in scientific derivatives. Where an ornithologist might seek the perfect warble of a Wood Thrush, the artist seeks "a visually appealing and seductive" portrayal of otherwise quotidian flora. She sees science where others observe herbs and spices.
In revisiting the lines of artificial plant life, Lester sifts and sketches through the infinitesimal arrangements surrounding a type of horticulture concentrated in copies of copies. Her subjects range from mild ferns and plucky irises to subtle, pine cone-shaped blossoms and clusters of anaerobic roots. Though these plants are sedentary, Lester’s touch elevates her subjects to a weightless, unsullied plane.
Cumulatively, the drawings deliver a somnambulist’s dream of perfect, earthly delights. Artificial Arrangement punctures the second dimension by giving observers a closer look at botany in the 21st Century.
