When they were included in the New Museum's 2007 inaugural exhibition, Kristen Morgin's sculptures stood out as a kind of art which simultaneously adhered to the assemblage aesthetic very much in the ether and presented something more permanent, cerebral, old-fashioned than the trendy work all around it. Morgin understands the tremendous psychological and emotive capacity of freezing objects in the midst of obsolescence-- the way this speaks to Late Capitalism's greatest fears as well as timeless concerns over the integrity of the art object. In all of her work the thing itself has lost its luster and wholeness, so that what is left is a remainder, a traumatized whole. Even as her sculptures attempt to hold on to their nobility, the nobility almost inherent to their implied sense of age, they are sad things. But they are sad in a way that feels earned and quiet. 

For this show Morgin has created dozens of small objects-- toys, cups, books, magazines-- out of unfired clay covered in acrylic, ink and marker. Each is crafted with remarkable care, and many sit beside examples of the practical, everyday objects which inspired them. So a real detective novel, slightly rough around the edges, sits beside Morgin's clay doppelganger, much more viscerally and irreparably damaged in some way. The resultant effect is remarkable for its scale. With these little objects Morgin calls into question the whole worthwhileness of the prosthetic psychological value with which we endow mementoes (who will inevitably obsolesce) and of the tremendous labor (literal and figurative) we put towards maintaining and archiving them. Whereas the everyday objects are authentically worn-down, and actually mean something to the world, Morgin's objects have a manufactured, false patina and only masquerade as practical things. They imitate the gravity which age and emotional specificity endow upon the petite commodities around us.

(Images from top to bottom: Installation shot, Kristen Morgin, objects for every one I have ever known, 2008, courtesy of Marc Selwyn Fine Art; Crime Reporter, 2008, Unfired clay, paint and ink, 1/2 x 8 x 1/2 inches, courtesy of Mark Selwyn Fine Art; Mighty Mouse, 2006, Unfired clay wood, wire, paint, 43 x 16 x 16 inches, courtesy of Mark Selwyn Fine Art)