An overstuffed, wingback chair stands in for a dementia patient. Slip covering this soft old chair is a patchwork of the past; clothing remnants recounting a woman’s life experience. They are stitched together in no particular pattern, and this, along with the ambiguous style/date of the covered chair, signifies the patient’s increasingly jumbled sense of time. Memory triggers, the bits of scarves, jeans, slips, stockings, blouses, hats, etc., envelops this chair attempting to hold on to an identity that is slipping away.
A quilted life preserver vest is camouflaged and attached to the chair back, functioning physically and metaphorically. When dementia patients enter late stages of the disease, they sometimes restlessly wander about, confused, lost, uninhibited and extremely vulnerable. An unfortunate but realistic solution is often strapping them into their chairs with “safety belts” to keep them in place. The life vest emerging from this chair is a physical manifestation of both the patient and her caretaker’s desperate desire to keep her physically and mentally ‘afloat;’ to keep her from ‘drowning.’ A less sterile, armless, more humane version of the straitjacket, this garment references the historical evolution of the term ‘dementia,’ and the common misunderstanding with which the inflicted were treated. Made from the same collection of garments as the slipcover, the jacket flows seamlessly from the chair, perhaps, in its lack of obviousness, slightly preserving the wearer’s dignity.
Strewn across the are afghan fragments crocheted in the traditional “granny square” pattern; made from recycled yarn and unraveling sweater strips, alluding to the fabrication and dissolution process of the dementia laden mind. The provision of comfort and warmth are among the easier things her caretaker can provide.
The sound montage playing from the dementia headset loosely parallels the three major stages of this illness. Progressively moving from 1) very specific, cerebral and articulated efforts to 2) sing-songy, emotional, and nonsensical to 3) sounds of “being” – purely abstract, physical and rhythmic noises like soft breathing or heartbeat. A sustained silence completes the piece. Initially, spoken mnemonics, in the form of word or number games, both entertain and keep the patient’s mind as ‘in shape’ as possible. In this phase she is aware of the beginning degeneration of her memory and attempting to ‘brace her brain’ for what is to come. Secondly, interviews from daughter caretakers take the form of song and spoken word. Layered, aggravatingly confusing, and at times fragmented and meaningless, the voices vary in pitch and density, reflecting the patient’s struggle to converse, hallucinate, or become spatially disoriented. The final audio element, before a calm period of quiet, will be a less intense soundscape: more visceral, nonverbal, and repetitive. Unexpectedly, a surprise emerges: from the infantile nonsense comes a perfectly recalled, crystal clear prayer or hymn the patient learned as a child, beautifully resurfacing as a testament to the still intact ‘psyche’ of the dying woman.
A quilted life preserver vest is camouflaged and attached to the chair back, functioning physically and metaphorically. When dementia patients enter late stages of the disease, they sometimes restlessly wander about, confused, lost, uninhibited and extremely vulnerable. An unfortunate but realistic solution is often strapping them into their chairs with “safety belts” to keep them in place. The life vest emerging from this chair is a physical manifestation of both the patient and her caretaker’s desperate desire to keep her physically and mentally ‘afloat;’ to keep her from ‘drowning.’ A less sterile, armless, more humane version of the straitjacket, this garment references the historical evolution of the term ‘dementia,’ and the common misunderstanding with which the inflicted were treated. Made from the same collection of garments as the slipcover, the jacket flows seamlessly from the chair, perhaps, in its lack of obviousness, slightly preserving the wearer’s dignity.
Strewn across the are afghan fragments crocheted in the traditional “granny square” pattern; made from recycled yarn and unraveling sweater strips, alluding to the fabrication and dissolution process of the dementia laden mind. The provision of comfort and warmth are among the easier things her caretaker can provide.
The sound montage playing from the dementia headset loosely parallels the three major stages of this illness. Progressively moving from 1) very specific, cerebral and articulated efforts to 2) sing-songy, emotional, and nonsensical to 3) sounds of “being” – purely abstract, physical and rhythmic noises like soft breathing or heartbeat. A sustained silence completes the piece. Initially, spoken mnemonics, in the form of word or number games, both entertain and keep the patient’s mind as ‘in shape’ as possible. In this phase she is aware of the beginning degeneration of her memory and attempting to ‘brace her brain’ for what is to come. Secondly, interviews from daughter caretakers take the form of song and spoken word. Layered, aggravatingly confusing, and at times fragmented and meaningless, the voices vary in pitch and density, reflecting the patient’s struggle to converse, hallucinate, or become spatially disoriented. The final audio element, before a calm period of quiet, will be a less intense soundscape: more visceral, nonverbal, and repetitive. Unexpectedly, a surprise emerges: from the infantile nonsense comes a perfectly recalled, crystal clear prayer or hymn the patient learned as a child, beautifully resurfacing as a testament to the still intact ‘psyche’ of the dying woman.