@jmmetranoart

Joe(y) / Joseph / Joseph Metrano / 
Joseph Matthew Metrano

As idiosyncratic as it is historic, New England is defined less by geographic boundaries than by its characteristic commingling of old and new. Physical remnants of the past, and pressures to preserve them, here enmesh what to most would be history with what to the Yankee is modern life and the spirit of the Old World commingles with the New to form a cultural landscape that vainly looks to its forebears from across a vast sea.

Defined just as much by its dying malls with pothole-riddled parking lots as by the dry-laid stone walls that cut through its lowland forests, the protean landscape of my upbringing is embodied within the logic of my practice by the resourceful employment of endemic material. Objects specific in their ubiquity and ubiquitous in their specificity have an unrivaled capacity to complicate memory, and it is in presenting them, comme ça, that the otherwise linear passage of time is folded on itself, to the point that it all too often becomes entangled. Such unassuming baubles as wooden nickels, wicker baskets, candy buttons, and plastic Easter eggs therefore serve to trouble conventional notions of authenticity, while fabrication, collection, and wordplay—all used in equal part to manipulate the readymade—make apparent the inevitable intrusion of memory on physicality. It is through this multifaceted and decidedly introspective process that I strive to draw critical discourse away from the object itself and toward the oft-overlooked facets of being, whose sole commonality is that they are shared exclusively by those that call any one place home. 


There’s Scissors in the Hutch (detail), 2024. 
Heirloom apple peels cast in resin and mounted in applewood frames, dimensions variable.

Gumball Machine, 2024. 
Used gumball machine purchased in Manchester, New Hampshire, through Facebook Marketplace transaction with green 1-inch gumballs, 40 × 12 × 12 in.

Not the Teeth, 2025.
2,982 (give or take) candy buttons on paper, 1 ⅞ × 701 in.

Thirty-four Baskets, 2024.
Baskets, dimensions variable.




@artbymaithili
maithilirajput.com

Maithili Rajput

What if discomfort is where power lives? 

Through labor-intensive processes and intimate gestures, I explore endurance, resistance, and boundaries. Using sculpture, performance, video, and installation, I reinterpret everyday objects and bodies, revealing the inherent dangers within the mundane. Materials like steel, wood, and personal objects tied to my upbringing become vessels for these investigations.

Often, I conceal my body within these materials or disguise it in the environment, implicating the viewer in the tension between fragility and strength. By positioning my body in confined spaces, I force an encounter with vulnerability; asking how boundaries shape our connection to one another, to objects, and to the spaces we occupy.

Through cryptic and alluring arrangements, I challenge perceptions of belonging, intimacy, and displacement. These works create spaces where the familiar and unsettling coexist, urging viewers to confront the discomfort of the unknown. Through my practice, I highlight the stakes of what it means to be a woman, a target, and a vulnerable body in a world where the right to exist in space is always contested.

Not suffering, but the weight of struggle, the stretch of time, and the quiet resistance of limits. Encased in steel boxes or confined within structures barely larger than my body, I examine the boundaries of endurance. These works engage with cultural, gender, and social norms, inviting reflection on the forces that shape movement and the limitations we navigate. By confronting these constraints, the viewer becomes part of the experience, engaged in the delicate balance between agency and restriction. If discomfort is where power lives, then endurance is neither victory nor loss, but simply existence.


431002, 2024.
Two-channel video performance installation with rebar, coconut husk, lime, chili pepper, and human body, 16 × 18 × 31 in.

The Scarf, 2025.
Live performance and installation with wood, steel, turmeric, clay, ghee, spinning motor, extension cord, screws, saw dust, aluminum, and human body, 77 × 17 × 17 in.

He[a]re, 2024.
Site-specific live performance installation with steel, wood, screws, hinges, latches, galvanized steel pipes, fittings, cinder block, and human body, 32 × 25 × 12 in.

Dak ID: 404, 2024. 
Two-channel video performance installation with shipping box, shipping label, wood, plywood, screws, coconut sheets, monitors, media player, photograph, and human body, 96 × 96 × 24 in.




@sun_helenart
she/her

Ziwei (Helen) Sun

I explore the poetics of the body and mind primarily through ceramics, using the medium as a vessel for storytelling—revealing different selves each year and the various disguises I adopt in different relationships. I express my joy, pain, helplessness, and shame in an abstract way. Each piece I create carries a unique narrative, shaped by the evolving handprints, contours, and colors throughout the process. To me, ceramics mirror the human form—malleable, fragile, and resilient—constantly shaped by both intention and chance. Through my work, I seek to capture the ever-changing and evolving nature of selfhood.

My artistic practice embraces the unpredictable nature of ceramics, allowing randomness and abstraction to guide both the process and the final form. The way clay bends, cracks, and reacts to fire introduces an element of spontaneity, imbuing each piece with movement and life. Each year, I feel like a new person—altered by my surroundings and relationships, molded by my circumstances. I find meaning in this balance between control and surrender, letting my work evolve naturally. The organic forms, layered textures, and subtle imperfections in my work evoke a sense of intimacy.

I engage with clay intuitively, shaping it with soft folds that eventually harden into rigid forms. I enjoy the tactile pleasure of working with clay—feeling it in my hands and transforming its shape and texture. What is wet becomes dry. Through this exploration, I offer a meditation on the passage of time, using clay to capture the ever-shifting relationship between body, mind, and emotion.


Memento Mori, 2024.
Glazed ceramic, acrylic shelves, water beads, water, 24 parts, each 3 × 3 × 3 in.

Here Lies … , 2024. 
Glazed ceramic, wood, and cement 50 × 16 × 16 in.

Lacuna, 2024. 
Glazed ceramic, wood, and cement 70 × 12 × 24 in.

Specimen 01, 2023. 
Ceramic, wood pallet, steel pipe, monofilaments, and LED lights, 86 × 46 × 46 in.

Count the Sheep, 2024.
Ceramic, River rocks, Acrylic paint, Gloss media 60 × 60 × 20 in.