This series of sculptures centres on the biker glove as its primary material. The biker glove, with its associations of masculinity, toughness, and subcultural codes, becomes the site of a layered and ambivalent transformation. The process begins with an act of dissection: each glove is filleted open, as one might do with a fish, the seams undone, and the protective skin dismantled. These fragments are then reassembled into new surfaces, recalling the stitched body of Mary Shelley’s ‚Frankenstein’s monster‘. This reference resonates deeply with Susan Stryker’s writings on the trans body as a constructed, abjected, yet powerfully resistant figure; a body stitched together by multiple contexts, both scientific and cultural. In this new form, the biker gloves shed their original function as tools of grip, speed, and protection, and instead take on the quality of specimens. They spread open like pinned insects in a scientific display, recalling practices of cataloguing, classification, and exhibitionism. Yet rather than stabilising identity, these sculptural specimens destabilise it, suggesting the trans body as always in transition, always caught between states of recognition and alienation. What seems at first to be an archive of fixed forms reveals itself instead as a documentation of flux.
The biker glove is a material dense with cultural coding. It embodies the aesthetics of masculine performance, with its black leather, padded reinforcements, and promise of courage and danger. At the same time, it contains other histories: a strong presence within lesbian biker communities, or its slippages into fetish culture, where leather and touch are charged with queer eroticism. By pairing these gloves with objects like hair, spikes, a glass dildo, jewellery and other queer markers, I reclaim and unsettle these codes. The biker glove ceases to be an accessory of heteromasculine self-fashioning and instead becomes the flesh of a queer organism. These works oscillate between violence and tenderness, between armour and vulnerability. The act of sewing, of piecing together cut fragments, suggests both repair and violation. The stitches mark wounds but also bind new possibilities into being. The resulting surfaces are scarred yet alive, textured with traces of their past function but oriented toward different futures. In this sense, they perform what runs throughout my practice: the radical rewriting of meaning, where material and body merge in an open-ended process of becoming.
Another part of what happens in these sculptures is a tension between exposure and concealment, between the logic of display and the lived reality of being seen. Just as queer and trans bodies are often made into specimens through the gaze of normative society, here the sculptural body leans into that condition, exaggerating it, twisting it into a site of empowerment. To pin open the glove is to expose its inner structure, but also to demonstrate the artifice of its design, the way gendered and cultural codes are stitched into the material world.
This new series, which I continue to develop, positions things out of daily life as both object and metaphor: an artefact of heteromasculine performance, an erotic accessory, a queer emblem, and a sculptural skin. Through dissection and recomposition, the works foreground the instability of bodies, the porousness of categories, and the power of transformation. They do not offer resolution, but rather insist on staying with the tension of fragments. They are resistant, fragile, and monstrous in their refusal to settle. If monstrosity has long been the name imposed on trans and queer bodies, these forms reclaim monstrosity as a method, as a way of inhabiting contradiction, exposing the artificiality of normativity, and insisting on other possibilities of becoming.