I sit at a messy table and piece together fragments of the world around me. Using pages from discarded books, I try to capture fleeting moments with a knife and glue. My focus is on the human body and all of its subtle gestures and innate behavior. My forms come together quickly as I grab materials within reach and embrace the direction that they take me. If all goes well, I’m left with a depiction of the frailty and fluidity of the human condition. As well as a floor full of scraps.
About ten years ago, a wounded bird showed up on our stoop in Brooklyn. We took her into our home and in no time she became a part of the family. During this period, I was collecting vintage portraits from thrift stores. They reminded me of my grandmother’s old family photos that I was fascinated by as a child—and also a bit unnerved. With our new family member flying around the apartment, I began to gather bird imagery from my collection of National Geographic magazines and vintage nature books. I was soon experimenting with combining the birds with the anonymous faces. This juxtaposition seemed to give the portraits a jolt of energy, like breathing some life into their frozen stares.
—James Gallagher
All works: untitled collages, various sizes (from 3” x 5” to 5” x 8”), 2014–2024.