I began constructing these pieces using contractor paper and masking tape to get the rough shape. I tried using spray foam to build up the shapes, but I didn’t enjoy the material or process. I switched to using a mix of Celluclay and Amaco Sculptamold so I could really get my hands into the material, which was lacking with using the spray foam (plus a lot less toxic than foam). I enjoyed molding by gloved hand rather than carving so it was a good material switch. The photos below show the process before paint and a waterproof hard coat (going to use Aqua Resin). I have the option to sand the teeth down, but I’m growing fond of the rough nature of the material. I’m also happy that these little pieces aren’t biological replicas of teeth but a gesture of inspiration. It reminds me of stones, and I like the idea of these little stark white, rough-hewn monoliths popping out of the ground and greenery in the woods.
Sitti | My Grandmother, Ummi | My Mother, and Binti | My Daughter
Detail of Binti | My Daughter Dress, 2026
When I was invited to participate in Root System2026, I was drawn to the connection between roots and intergenerational lineage. Beneath the surface, roots reach outward, intertwine, communicate, and connect. A tree in New Jersey may seem impossibly far from a tree in Palestine, yet I began imagining them speaking to one another through the earth.
That thought made me wonder about our own roots as human beings.
Where do we lay our roots when we migrate, whether by choice or because we are forcibly displaced and uprooted from our home and land? What happens to the traditions, memories, culture, and connection to land that we carry with us? Do they remain within us, perhaps in ways as deep and invisible as roots? I believe they do.
Even when separated from homeland, our root systems continue through memory, identity, and intergenerational connection.
Northampton Massachusetts, 1970
I am first-generation Palestinian, born and raised in the United States. I am rooted here because this is where my life and my family have grown, but I am also rooted in Palestine, where my ancestors lived for generations. I exist somewhere between these two places, connected to both.
My connection to Palestine lives in memory.
Jerusalem, 1980
I remember the summers visiting my grandparents in Jerusalem and spending time with family in Ramallah. I remember the hot days and cool nights, the breeze moving through the trees, the smell of the earth, and the vibrant sunsets seen from the rooftop. I remember nights filled with bright stars and the smell of food always coming from the kitchen.
I remember my Tata’s (grandmother) garden. Her almond tree, grape vine’s, sour cherry and lemon trees, sabar plant, roses, and jasmine that she so lovingly tended.
I remember the sounds of children playing football in the streets and the calls for Rokab ice cream on hot days. I remember the ordinary, beautiful moments of childhood that become precious with time. Sometimes I find myself longing for just one glimpse of those days, to return for a moment, to see my grandparents again, to hug them tightly.
Those memories are rooted in me.
They connect me to a place I cannot always physically be.
When I walked through the preserve, I began thinking about the root systems beneath my feet and the possibility that these networks might somehow connect us beyond the boundaries we create on maps. The roots beneath the land reminded me that we are connected not only to one another, but also to the natural world and to something much older than ourselves.
This project explores the root system as a living connection between generations, and how the land carries memory, identity, and belonging.
The preserve also reminded me of Palestine. Both landscapes are full of life, shaped by the people who love and care for them. I thought about the mountains and valleys of Palestine, and the cypress, olive and orange groves. I remembered my family’s home in Ein Siniya, a small Palestinian village near Ramallah.
As I began developing the installation, I wanted to bring together the organic and the cultural. I wanted the sculptures to connect the Palestinian thobe, with its deep connection to regional identity and women’s traditions, to the natural world beyond the traditional embroidered motifs that reference the land.
My Mother’s Thobe Chest Panel (Qabbeh), 1970
Tatreez, traditional Palestinian cross-stitch embroidery practiced and passed down through generations, is reinterpreted in my work from motifs handed down to me by my grandmother and mother. They reference the olive trees and cypress trees of Palestine, as well as poppies that grow both in Palestine and here in the United States. Through these patterns, the dresses carry images of the land across distance, connecting Palestine to the place where I live now.
The thobe becomes a form without a body, a vessel for generations of women. Through it, I honor the women who came before me, the women who continue these traditions today, and the women who will carry them forward.
The three thobes emerge from the tree as if they are being born from nature itself. They are secured by the roots beneath them, grounded and strong. The three figures represent grandmother, mother, and daughter, three generations connected through the same root system. Sitti, my grandmother, Ummi, my mother, and Binti, my daughter.
Past. Present. Future.
The dresses become extensions of the same natural world.
The root system becomes what connects us and gives us strength.
The thobes become the continuation.
The land becomes the connection between them.
In this way, the sculpture is not only about where we come from. It is about what we carry forward.
Nature has witnessed everything.
It has witnessed people arrive and leave, generations being born and passing away, communities changing, landscapes transforming. We may leave, but the trees remain. We may disappear, but the land continues to hold what came before.
Nature reminds us that life is constantly adapting.
Growing.
Changing.
Falling.
Regenerating.
The land taught me to appreciate all that has been shared with us: the shade of a tree, the fruit it gives, the stories held by a family, the traditions carried by women’s hands, and the memories that travel from one generation to another through the root system that connects us.
I began this project thinking about roots as a network beneath the earth. I ended by understanding the root system as the living connection between generations, carrying memory, identity, and belonging within us.
Perhaps we are all connected through the landscapes we inherit.
Perhaps a tree in New Jersey can speak to a tree in Palestine.
Perhaps our ancestors are still speaking to us through the things we remember, the traditions we preserve, and the stories we choose to carry forward.
And perhaps, like the root system that sustains and connects us, we are stronger because we are connected.
The installation is ultimately a message of hope, survival, and resilience.
The land may be distant, but the connection remains.
We may be separated from one another, but the root system continues to hold us together.
And just as the land continues to change, regenerate, and sustain life, I believe humanity will continue to find ways to survive, adapt, connect, and grow.
Warmest gratitude to the Wildflower Sculpture Park residency for giving me this opportunity to share my art and journey, and to all the artists who are part of this exhibition. I’m so grateful to share this experience with you. And most of all, thanks to Doris Caçoilo and Penelope Malakates for curating and managing a wonderful exhibition.
This installation is dedicated to the strong women in my life, my mother, Lama al-Hussaini;my Sitti’s, Rabiha al-Hussaini and Ulwiyya al-Hussaini; my Great Aunt Hind al-Hussaini; my daughter, Maya Serene al-Hussaini Hatcher; and to all the strong women who came before us, who passed down their strength and pride in ourselves and our culture. And to the men who supported, encouraged, and lifted us up, my grandfather Ishaq Musa al-Husseini; my father Hatem Ishaq al-Hussaini; my dearest Uncle Nabil al-Hussaini; my son Aden al-Hussaini Hatcher; and the love of my life Rob Hatcher.
Each panel depicts a fruit-bearing tree: an Orange, Olive, Lemon, Fig, and Persimmon. White nylon rope was pulled apart into individual threads and woven through orange and green construction netting. The threadwork holds the two layers of netting together while forming the shapes of each tree. The panels are supported by two 7′ wooden dowels, staked into the ground with iron rods. The remaining netting extends onto the ground and is gathered in the manner of a Portuguese para-vento, creating a temporary enclosure within the landscape. Together, the panels form a network of trees; individual forms connected through a shared structure, evoking the interconnected systems of roots, pollination, and community.
It’s been really satisfying to let this project unfold and develop in a way where I am just following instincts and cues from the work itself and beyond. Originally, I felt the prompt of roots as something deep in the ground, our origins, things that came or went before, including people and traditions. I have a visceral urge to connect to those in the ancestral plane not only by sensing them in the vastness above but also feeling their support under foot. With each ‘root’ I’m keeping in mind one of the special people in my life who have passed, and allowing their energies and identities to inform each piece. Whenever I think of tradition, quilting comes to mind as a practice that is handed down and keeps families connected and histories alive. I’ve chosen a different quilt block pattern for each (so far, cathedral windows, simple star, log cabin). As I progress, many of the root forms are taking on more of an obelisk shape, and upon researching the origins of the obelisk I really love this pathway. I’m finding so much alignment in the way obelisks connect the earth to the sky, a symbol of the divine as well as the afterlife (which to me, are one and the same!).
My work is based in the bio-art tradition, using materials and techniques associated with science to make art. For this Bio-Portrait I will create a female human and grow sculptural works from mycelium (the root like structure supporting the fruiting fundi/mushroom) and plant seeds (identifying those native to the area). I will also use clay/mud as part of the sculpture. The work will be strictly temporary, and ideally it would cease to exist at the end of the exhibition, the component parts having returned to the earth.
Heritage continues to take root in the soil and will always be remembered, no matter where we are.
As a first-generation displaced Palestinian, the sculptural dresses reflect the experience of carrying identity, memory, and ancestral connection. Like root systems adapting to different environments, they speak to the resilience of diaspora communities who remain deeply connected to their cultural roots despite displacement from their homeland. The work is grounded in the idea that the land is always within you, carried through memory, tradition, and inherited practices such as tatreez and folk music.
Created as an homage to past, present, and future generations of women, the sculptural forms honor the passing of cultural knowledge from grandmother to mother to daughter. Installed in nature, the dresses become part of a larger root system, connected through shared histories, memory, and intergenerational knowledge.
Like roots spreading beneath the surface, these connections continue to grow and sustain identity across distance, time, and place.
The generational series of reinterpreted sculptural dresses explores resilience, cultural memory, and identity through the exaggerated form of the Palestinian thobe, a traditional dress featuring distinctive tatreez cross-stitch embroidery that tells the wearer’s story and reflects regional cultural identity and land through its patterns and motifs. The project transforms painted canvases into large-scale sculptural dress forms designed for the outdoor landscape.
Inspired by the colors of nature, layered abstract surfaces are created on canvas using paint, texture, and mixed media. Layered within these compositions are Palestinian tatreez motifs (cross-stitch embroidery), such as the Cyprus tree, olive branches, and the tree of life, all symbols that carry connections to ancestry, place, and cultural continuity.
Though not wearable, the sculptural dresses honor the women of past, present, and future generations who carry Palestinian culture and traditions forward. The works speak to the resilience of remaining rooted in identity and heritage despite displacement, fragmentation, and distance from homeland.
Through painting, textile, and form, these dresses become a visual language of remembrance, resilience, and the enduring strength of cultural roots.
Posted ingeneral|Comments Off on The Land Lives Within Us
This project has taken many twists and turns; at its heart, it is about connection: to self, to place, and to the life that sustains us. In developing this work, I became so focused on the details that I lost sight of the bigger picture: the importance of connection. Yet the materials themselves are part of this story.
For this project, I am creating tree forms on orange and green construction netting held together by threaded tree shapes that I weave through the fabric. The trees represented are all fruit-bearing: orange, fig, plum, persimmon, and olive, among others. These trees depend on systems of pollination to thrive. The panels will be connected by wooden dowels staked into the ground to form a honeycomb shape. The hexagonal pattern represents the interconnected networks found in nature.
The structure will also resemble a ‘para-vento,’ a windbreaker commonly used on beaches in Portugal. Some of my most formative experiences have taken place in Portugal, a landscape that is also home to the fruit trees I am exploring in this work. As the wind moves through the netting and threaded forms, the installation becomes activated in its environment, emphasizing the ongoing exchange between the work and the natural world around it.
A watercolor study of green on green netting.
This project is rooted in the experience of living between two places, and the feeling of not fully belonging to either. By bringing these trees into a space where they do not naturally grow, the fruit trees become stand-ins for memory, migration and lineage.
I plan to complete the panels in Portugal and photograph them among the landscapes that inspired them. In this way, the project embodies its own network of connections: conceived in the US and physically created in Portugal and informed by direct observation of the trees themselves. The work becomes a living reflection on connection, and where we find ourselves within larger communities of human and non-human life.
Cuerpo-Tierra or Earth-Body is an exploration of migration, memory, identity, and community as mediated and nurtured by the diverse geographies that hold us. Humans are not ethereal, floating beings; our souls, minds, and bodies are intimately and inextricably connected to the Earth. Just like our plant kin, we are intertwined with the land beneath us, no matter how often we seem to forget this simple yet powerful truth. Immigrant women, specifically, carry the land-based knowledge of our ancestors and have the potential to re-root and flourish in our new home. Our brown bodies may be rejected by a political system, but Mother Earth welcomes us wherever we arrive, as long as we take the time to recognize her and remember our ancestral ways.
My proposal is to represent a woman who travels below and above the ground, living between two cultures, and carrying her memories like a patchwork of keepsakes. Evident in her rooted body are pieces of the geographies, people, and experiences that create who she is – a symbiosis with the potential to dream and embody a more benevolent future for all women and Mother Earth.
My proposal for the Wildflower Sculpture Park Residency Program, Root System, is to create a modular ceramic sculpture depicting the networks of life within South Mountain Reservation. Exploring specific species that live and keep the reservation’s ecosystem thriving. There is a very delicate balance in nature, if one or more species is removed from the equation the ecosystem at large suffers. This work will showcase that by having each individual piece that represents a species not be able to stand stably on its own. Once all the pieces are combined the entire sculpture stands solid and stable.
I have been exploring nature and specifically flora and fauna most of my artistic career; drawing and sculpting animals from all over the world. Recently I have been narrowing my focus to my own backyard. Despite New Jersey being the most densely populated U.S. State, it contains a vast number of diverse ecosystems within its borders. With South Mountain Reservation being right in my backyard it seems the perfect place to begin this new series of work. Not only do I want to highlight the diverse species living amongst us, I want to make sure everyone understands the delicate balance needed for them and their environment to thrive.
General Design of the modular sculpture, consisting of different size cylinders. That way I can add the surface decoration that will represent the different species in South Mountain Reservation.
Surface decoration options, carving clay away or adding 3-D lines to create the imagery.
Posted ingeneral|Comments Off on Networks of Life – Corrine Carr
Root and Seed is a two part sculptural installation that explores root systems as both visible structures and as metaphors for evolving and unseen connections. The work will initially present as two distinct forms. The first is a vertical bark like form that climbs and wraps to the bottom of an existing tree while extending into a root like form across the ground. The second an Ovoid form that references a fruit or an egg, which rests nearby, just barely in contact with the roots.
The root and bark structure is constructed from laser cut wood with hand drawn patterns that will be etched onto the surface. The form will appear to trace an imagined network made visible above ground, mapping hidden connections within the preserve. The second form, the fruit/egg sculpture, will contain an internal laser cut armature patterned with the same hand drawn design as the root and bark. That internal structure will be encased in a temporary outer layer composed of handmade paper, seeds, suet and bees wax. This skin is designed to gradually be consumed by wildlife and weather which allows it to transform over time. As this outer layer erodes, the inner structure will be revealed, visually linking it to the root sculpture.
I would like to use this opportunity and this installation as a way to think about migration and belonging. While the two forms seem separate, they are structurally connected, suggesting the ties to a home that are fundamental even when not visible. As the outer layer of the fruit breaks down this connection becomes clearer. This transformation is meant to show how we adapt to new environments while still carrying histories within.
Posted ingeneral|Comments Off on Root and Seed (Proposal)
The fourteenth edition of the Wonder Women Residency Project called Root System asks artists to propose and create artworks as part of a thematic project developed through weekly group meetings over two months. The cohort of ten artists will discuss their ongoing projects, philosophies and processes surrounding the projects and planning for installation and performance. The residency will culminate in an outdoor exhibition at Wildflower Sculpture Park in South Mountain Reservation in September 2026.
