Walking through the Baltimore Museum of Art’s exhibit on ordinary objects last week, I paused in front of Zoe Leonard’s “Untitled,” a collection of fruit peels stitched back together.
I think I must have first seen Leonard’s piece back in 2006, and I remember being struck by it that first time I saw it. The fruit peels, though sewn back together, haven’t been preserved, and so they are always changing and decomposing, even as we look. There’s an immediacy in relating with this piece. You’re always witnessing it as it exists in the moment, and in that moment only, so that engaging with this piece feels a bit like meditating. There’s a way that time dilates to absorb its details.
On this most recent visit, I noticed how much Leonard’s work has changed since I first saw it. I can see how it’s evolved, decomposed, color-shifted, re-textured.
It feels very moving to have a long-time relationship with a piece like this.