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Work Samples


Vessel, Paper, glue, 37 x 74 x 44 in.

Three legs

Three Legs, brass, steel, found wood, hardware

Caryatids (wrapped)

Caryatids (wrapped) Acrylic tape, foam approx. 12 x 12 x 65 in. per form

Installation view

Left: Mass on Table on Dolly, Hydrocal, cast foam, paper, found table, blanket, pine, casters 52 x 31 x 65 in Right: I still love you, dead mushroom, steel, pine, paper pulp, hydrocal, 44 x 54 x 55 in.


About Anne Clare

Baltimore City - Station North A&E District

Anne Clare Rogers's picture
Anne Clare Rogers  is a studio-based sculptor. She was a 2017 -2018 Visual Arts fellow at Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, MA and a 2015 Summer Fellow at Ox-Bow School of Art. She holds an MFA in Sculpture + Extended Media from the University of Texas at Austin. 

Sculptures 01

I make work that privileges the tacit, the inarticulate, or the meanings which can exists before language. Meaning is made through shared tools like language, but I also want to consider the ways that these tools can blind us to other possibilities of knowing. 

My sculptures are anchored in the real world in the same way that a mushroom anchors itself to a dead tree— reliant on it for nourishment, while, at the same time, breaking down the structure that supports its place in the world. My sculptures, in this sense, take their purpose from the model of digestion, nourishment, and assimilation.

Odd as it may sound, I find an analogy between my work and mushrooms. Consider the common names used for the following fungi: dead man's fingers (Xylaria Polymorpha), Hairy Earth Tong (Trichoglossum hirstum), and Black Witche's Butter (Exidia Glandulosa), to name a few. When paging through a field guide to mushrooms and reading these names, I am reminded of Joseph Campbel who, in reference to lirugy described Latin as, "A language that throws you out of your domesticity". I think we should consider Campbell's words in the context of scupture as well. Sculpture—my sculpture—is a language that throws you out of your domesticity.

  • Vessel

    Vessel, Paper, glue, 37 x 74 x 44 in.
  • Vessel

    paper, glue, 37 x 74 x 44 in.
  • Tube (I lost)

    Found aluminum foil, driftwood, steel, chair leg, Herman Miller base, 27 x 24 x 67 in. This sculpture was inspired by hospital furniture and a tube of aluminum foil I found in a creek. Having weathered the elements, the aluminum foil was transformd, it was beautiful. I built an armature to house the mysterious tube in an upright position. I incorporated casters into this piece (amongst others) to emphasize that nothing is static.
  • Tube (I lost) (datail)

    Detail of Tube (I lost) Found aluminum foil, driftwood, steel, chair leg, Herman Miller base, 27 x 24 x 67 in.
  • Spine

    Cast hay and latex, steel, 83 x 13 x 11 in. I was interested in pushing the material potential hay whilst also creating a visual expression of digestion.
  • Spine (detail_

    cast latex and hay, steel, 83 x 13 x 11 in. Ballon lips function as the point of connection between the cast form and the armature, a motif in several of my works. I use this to give the impression of intimacy, that the point of connection is somthing that could be kissed or filled with air from a persons lungs.
  • Part of the tree

    rope, asphalt, steel hardware, deminsions vary, approx. 14 x 25 x 11in. This asphalt and fiber structure is maliable, though it's movment is slow. This sculpture slowly adapts to its surounding environment, and thus, its form continualy changes. In this piece, I was interested in conveying somthing beyond what is visually perceptable; in this case motion but akin to the speed of a growing plant.
  • Sleeve

    Latex, steel, cedar, 17 x 6 x 70 in. The green form is a latex cast that was molded from a failed sculpture. The cast hangs from a steel armautue and, like cloths hanging out to dry, flutters with the movment of air.
  • Impression no. 3

    Collagraph; litho ink on paper, 40 x 78 in.
  • Rug

    Acrylic tape, garbage bags, 60 x 96 in.

Sculptures 02

  • Three legs

    brass, steel, pine, wood glue 22 x 19 x 48 in.
  • Incubator

    Steel, asphultum, twine, paper, glue, epoxy 31 x 16 x 50 in.
  • Impression no. 4

    Collagraph; litho ink on paper, 52 x 64 in.
  • Puncture

    Driftwood, cement, 17 x 16 x 114 in.
  • Specter

    Mop head, asphalt, found wood, poplar 15 x 14 x 61 in.
  • Nocturn

    Inkjet print, 21 x 35 in.
  • First Position

    Horse hair bundle, aluminum, steel, 9 x 2 x 125 in. Horse hair is pressure fit to bisected aluminum tube.
  • That dark cottage

    pigment print on paper, 18 x 24 in.
  • Caryatids (wrapped)

    Caryatids (wrapped) Acrylic tape, foam approx. 12 x 12 x 65 in. per form
  • Stomach

    paper mâché, polycrylic, steel,

A Potato in Space

Some of Saturn’s lesser moons (which do, in fact, resemble the root vegetable) have been

dubbed “potatoids.” These non-spherical, lumpy satellites are held in their orbit by the
balance of centrifugal force and gravity. This is the structure of their relationship to their
parent planet. There are not, of course, potatoes in space, though I like the thought.
Naming an object draws it closer, makes it knowable (or at least, makes it possible for us to
think we know it). Naming allows us to bridge a gap, though the act of naming also carries
the risk that we will simplify, limit, or reduce what we are trying to understand. At the same
time that we call a small moon a potatoid, we drift further from knowing the reality of the
satellite, its true character.
My work is concerned with meaning-making, time, loss, and death. Calling these satellites
potatoids is itself a metaphor for our attempt to accommodate the unknowable, a comically
familiar name for something far, far from our grasp. Grief is a similar search for the right
name; it lies between the desire for the thing lost and the devastating fact that it is gone. It is in this space—between the wish and the fact—that I seek to locate my work.
  • Love Poem

    Potatoes, inflated steel, brass, pine, chair leg, hardware, 70 x 13 x 63 in. This is a mobile. The donut-shaped inflated steel is balanced to the weight of potatoes. As the potatoes decay, the balance of the mobile shifts. This piece was made in response to the death of a loved one. Through the metaphore of a root vegitable I sought to give motion to and make verticle something from the gound.
  • Weather vane

    Weather vane: poplar, paper mache, human hair 51 x 28 x 34 in. This sculpture comprises thousands of strands of the artist's hair, which were embedded into the leg-like form through a process of making pore sized punctures into the paper surface, dipping individual hairs into Elmers glue and plugging the holes.
  • Weather vane (detail)

    Human hair, poplar, paper, glue
  • Mirror Shaped

    Mirror Shaped: Broom stick, pex tubing, found vine, 81 x 38 x 2 in. Curve of pex tubing is maintained though the tension of vine.
  • You lacked the artist's usual skills

    You lacked the artist's usual skills: fossil, found wood, yarn, ren board, 14 x 13 x 44 in. Yarn wraps around the carved figure's feet and pierces it's chest. Fossilized poop is attached to the end of the yarn and functions as a counter weight to the carved figure.
  • Potato

    Potato, White marble, latex, particle board, 30 x 30 x 34 in. I carved a spud-like form out of white marble which rests on a particle board plinth. By carving thousands of holes into the plinth I hoped to transform the ubiquitous cheap material into somthing less recognizable. I hoped the plinth would convey more of a body-like presance through the use of pores. Between the marble carving and the plinth is a square of latex, a material that references both medical protection and balloons.
  • Potato (detail)

    White marble, particle board, latex, 30 x 30 x 34 in.
  • I Still Love You

    I Still Love You, dead mushroom, paper pulp, steel, pine, hydrocal, epoxy resin, 44 x 54 x 55 in.

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