I use craft to transform the unspeakable. The rhythmic motion of weaving, the razor edge of broken glass softening under the extreme heat of the kiln, the arduous cranking of the printing press — these become something like a choreography, or a trance, where the hands move to channel what language cannot contain. The resulting objects speak viscerally, embodying not just the afterlife of trauma, but also the possibility of care, of defiant pleasure, of undeniable authorship, of new worlds becoming.
This is not just a personal healing journey; I see my practice as a means to confront systems and structures of violence at the intersection of the criminal legal system, State power and the family. I draw on archival material — including court documents, news articles, and family photos— to challenge the official record and create more nuanced narratives that acknowledge complicated, and contradictory truths.
To do this, I must disarm the social stigma that viewers project on my work — queer, victim, inmate, monster. This is one of my greatest fears as an artist: that my work cannot overcome a culture of shame and silence to reach a public audience. My work embraces an abolitionist vision; however, I believe that radical social change must first begin by turning inward, by interrogating ourselves and the limits of our own compassion.
In my work, the physical labor of creation becomes a force of alchemy to process troubling memories and information. Through the tedium of wordless repetition — passing a thousand threads through the heddles of the loom, or watching a crack move along a score-line on glass — the roiling energy of grief and rage transmutes into an uneasy beauty. In the space preceding language, outside of myself and the world, there is finally the freedom to speak. This is what I aim to accomplish as an artist: to share the transformative power of art, particularly its potential to break cycles of intergenerational trauma, disrupt carceral logics of confinement and create the conditions for liberation.
Rowan Renee (b. 1985, West Palm Beach, Florida) creates site-specific installations that are the culmination of months or years of research within communities, landscapes or archives. Their work addresses legacies of violence within the family, the state and the criminal legal system, especially their impact on women, LGBTQ+ and incarcerated people. By incorporating labor-intensive processes including printmaking, darkroom photography, stone carving, weaving, and kiln-fused glass, they conceptualize craft as care-work to transform experiences we cannot put into words.
Renee has presented solo exhibitions at The Green-Wood Cemetery (2023), KODA (2022), Smack Mellon (2021), FiveMyles (2021), Aperture Foundation (2017), and Pioneer Works (2015). Their projects have been influenced by community-based workshops with people affected by gender-based violence and mass incarceration. Previous partners include Recess Art, The ReEntry Theater of Harlem, and Phoenix House. They have received awards from the Aaron Siskind Foundation, the Harpo Foundation, the Jerome Hill Foundation, and the Art for Justice Fund. Their installation, No Spirit For Me (2019), was included in exhibition Marking Time: Art in the Age of Mass Incarceration at MoMA PS1. Rowan Renee is a founder of the KODA x Stilt City Retreat, a livable sculpture, conceptual art project and experimental artist residency in a rebuilt Rockaway Beach bungalow, launching in early 2025.