Mushky Rice
Mushky Rice lives in Boston M.A.
Originally from the Bay Area California, Mushky Rice currently lives and works in Boston Massachusetts. She takes a multidisciplinary approach to her art practice. With a passion for connectivity, a lot of Mushky's recent work has been about performativity. Her work has been featured at the following venues:
Proof Gallery, Running Late at Art Plug Boston
Havdalah: the ceremony that beacons the holy soul for departure at sundown. This Jewish ceremony, performed weekly at the close of the Sabbath, symbolically ends the day of rest and ushers in the new week. Havdalah represents the distinct divide between what is sacred and what is secular. It is a multi-sensory ritual that employs elements of fire, spice and wine, to initiate the experience of a physical and emotional transition from holy to secular. My childhood memories of Havdalah are palpable. I will never forget the smell of the cloves and when I close my eyes I can still picture the candle’s flame dancing in the shadows of my family’s hands. These memories of ritual manifest into my artwork through extensions of my bodily experiences, diverse textures, and cleansing smells. Havdalah represents transition. These familiar rituals allow me to celebrate my new found secular life and body.
My work allows even the most vulnerable parts of me to be accessible to the public. Many jewish rituals including Havdalah, place men at the forefront of the ceremonias, which is loudly accompanied by the level of female modesty that is imposed by judaism regularly. As an ode to my transition from this male-oriented structure to an art community where I am encouraged and willing to display vulnerability, I utilize elements that openly celebrate qualities associated with my sexuality and secular identity. Specifically, in religious jewish tradition, many women cover their hair after marriage as a way to be modest. The only person that is permitted to see her hair is her husband. In recent work my hair, represents a part of me that was going to be covered by a husband, but in my secular life, it is a form of self-expression. In my performance, titled “14 ways to cut hair”, I hand the scissors to strangers who each cut off a portion of my hair, which I consider to be the dead parts of me. As a practice of generosity I give a packet of cleansing spice to each person who participates. Through the act of performance, my hair becomes a symbol for the space between my religious and secular self. The piece displays a sensual part of myself that I feel was hidden while I was religious.
Many Jewish rituals are fueled by the labor of women in domestic spaces which led me to eventually use fiber in my work. Piecing together fabric is important to me because it represents labor, generosity, and love.