Albatross comprises a fabric form of lightweight silk gauze, thin white suspension strings, four counterweights with pulleys, four computerized capstan motors mounted in a wooden crate placed inside an antique suitcase, and a discreetly placed control computer.
The fabric moves smoothly within the space in a never-ending cycle which never exactly repeats. The motion is slow, moving through many phases: the fabric slowly traverses the floor, wafts upwards, hovers silently, slowly billows, descends, folds upon itself. The fabric form is simple and translucent, emphasizing the evanescent interplay of air, light, and motion.
I am fascinated by the sensual meditative motions of fabric moving through air. Albatross is set to inhabit the air, to float above the earth, but on each drag across the floor, the roughnesses catch and snag the fabric until it rises free again. The web of strings makes a plainly visible connection from the fabric to the propulsion motors in the suitcase and the counterweights in the window. The strings silently loft the fabric through its slow ascents and descents but also ground it and define boundaries in the space.