The feminine form in three dimensions: the bricolage of Polly M. Law
I’m standing on Wall Street in Kingston’s Uptown. It’s a Tuesday, around lunchtime. The streets are populated by those emerging and disappearing into shops and cafés. It feels bustling, like a place with energy and momentum. Nobody strolls. It’s a work day, and even lunch is approached with industriousness.
It’s a reminder of the way we previously engaged with our towns, before the Main Street—the center of the action—was superseded by the mega-mall on the outside of town. And perhaps we have changed our perspectives on our small towns, placing increased importance and value on quality of life, and towns are once again emerging as a credible place to find community, opportunity, and purpose. People are looking to reconnect with something more manageable, something they can wrap their hands around and shape. Do we believe in towns again? Or is Kingston just lucky to be down the road from the greatest symbol of North American civilization, New York City?
Polly M. Law works and lives in a top-floor space above an insurance business. Standing in her living room, you can look out over Uptown’s roofs and buildings; when seated, you see the nothingness of sky. We could be anywhere, any town, even a field; the trick is perspective.
Born and raised in rural Ohio, Polly moved to New York City in 1977 and was employed as an illustrator in preproduction art for advertising agencies. She created storyboards, compositions, and animatics to pitch to potential clients—the work that is rarely seen by the public.