Disposability rarely aligns itself with sacredness. Consider latex gloves, masks, wipes, Kleenex, empty sanitizer bottles — all disposable objects that we turn to out of necessity but that now sit at the bottom of our trash cans or forgotten in grocery baskets or dropped onto asphalt parking lots, waiting to be picked up by the wind as we buy their replacements. These are objects that are easily taken for granted until they are unavailable — that’s when they become sacred, as we all have learned during this pandemic.
But for artist and metalsmith Becky McDonah, these objects hold importance outside of the moments when they are scarce. Instead of letting go of an empty bottle of hand sanitizer that served her in a time of need, she has taken the time to honor that object, quite literally, by placing it on a pedestal adorned with delicately placed turquoise, copper, and brass. In fact, her “Evaluating Essentials” exhibition at the Metal Museum contains reliquaries just like this one, all with elaborate and skillful metalwork enshrining everyday objects, a distinct departure from reliquaries that ensconce relics deemed to be holy and above the ordinary.
“From car tires and applesauce cups to pill bottles and shower curtains,” McDonah says, “I would like the viewers to take the time to stop and think about little things that have an impact on their lives or the lives of others around them.”
“I am influenced by the idea of the ‘sacred’ object but then deviate to think about things that we may be extremely thankful for at specific times in our lives, or always,” the artist continues. “Taking heart medication might be a helpful or harmful approach to improving our health depending on who you ask, an empowering book may be a way to access confidence or take you on an adventure, a mask can protect you from breathing harmful particles, and when you desperately need a tissue you are grateful when it is provided. These situations all carry stories or memories along with them, and I am hoping to release some of those using the items contained.”
The chosen items also carry personal connections to McDonah. “I wouldn’t just use any car tire or shower curtain. These items come from specific places or people,” she says. “When I design a piece, it always has a personal meaning for me at some level, but my goal is that it is also something that can resonate with others and they are able to bring their own personal experience to the piece.”
McDonah, who heads the fine art metals program at Millersville University in Pennsylvania, has been making these reliquaries since 1997. “The death of a family member had me contemplating the rituals surrounding the circumstances and thinking about how much emphasis is sometimes placed on the remains of the individual when the body no longer houses the essence of that person,” she says. That first piece, titled Preservation of the Core, was a small-scale coffin holding a painted apple core at rest in its satin lining.
Although the artist has generally stayed within the reliquary format since then, McDonah consistently pushes herself to incorporate a new technique in each piece. She also works with a variety of materials in addition to the main component of metal. “The other materials are usually things that complement the contents whether that may be something that is associated with it in its typical environment or materials chosen for more formal reasons, like to accent the color or texture,” she says. For instance, in Reoccuring Rejuvenation which honors a shower curtain in a pendant, dental floss is braided to form the necklace’s chain and toothbrush heads flank either side of the pendant.
Notably, though, these details and even the honored object may not register to the viewer at first glance. At first glance, Panic Purchase might seem like an interestingly decorated jar, but a prolonged look reveals that tiny toilet seats rest on the lid with a metal rim engraved to look like perforated toilet paper.
As an anecdote, McDonah mentions one piece not in this show that contained toenails inside a thumb-shaped reliquary. “This piece was about relationships, and I collected toenails from family and friends to contain in it,” she says. “The closeness of the relationships went both ways as to them being willing to give or mail me their toenails and for me actually having to work with them. I was playing with the ability of a container to elevate the objects contained, and it worked. A group of people were looking at this piece and one person dumped the container upside down and the toenails fell to the floor. They all automatically went down to the floor and scoured it, picking up the fallen toenails of people they had never met!”
Though that was an unusual experience for one of her shows, the effect gratified the artist, showing how easy it is to get swept up in the beauty of the container that suggests a degree of reverence before realizing the ordinary nature — or in the case of the toenails, the gross nature — of the object that is being uplifted. “Disgust is not the typical response that I would like to bring up in my audience,” McDonah says, “maybe a little surprise and a chuckle, followed by them contemplating the contents and what memories it may bring up for them or why it has a place of importance within the piece.” “Evaluating Essentials” will be on view at the Metal Museum through May 15th. McDonah will give an artist talk at the closing reception that day from 3 p.m.-5 p.m. Admission to the reception is free, with a suggested donation of $8 per guest. Register here.
