Marcy Davis

A body is never just a body. It is a structure held by skin, pressed against walls, sinking into the weight of land—yet it is also a terrain, restless and alive with invisible life. In these crossings, edges collapse: flesh becomes landscape, and architecture breathes like a body. My work unfolds in this unsettled in-between, where body and structure, inside and outside, are never fixed apart.
In my practice, I warp the familiar until it becomes unrecognizable. Materials such as wax or felt masquerade as skin, wounds, or scars, yet remain unnamable, unstable. They slip between recognition and estrangement, provoking both attraction and unease. What matters is not the material itself, but the experience of not fully knowing.
Thus, the result is work that doesn’t offer answers but confronts boundaries—the ones between body and structure, self and environment, fascination and repulsion. My installations invite viewers to linger in that environment, to feel the body as architecture, and architecture as a body unraveling. My work is deliberate in keeping it at arm’s length in understanding- contributing to a sense of ambiguity that promotes the viewer to outwardly experience the unknown.