Someone recently asked me if I washed my father’s clothes before using them in sculptures,” she said. “I didn’t. They still contain his cells. “
The flesh sculptures were part of an earlier series titled Actus Reus, Latin for “sinful act,” and later the Naturally Made Flesh project launched after Kostyanovsky’s death.
her father. Instead of slaughtering animals with leaking guts and protruding bones, she made colorful tree stumps out of her father’s old clothes. These works have a surreal quality. The sculptures clearly resemble felled trees, but they take on bright colors that give the pieces an almost whimsical feel. Here, a tree has been killed, its life cut short, but pastel shades of yellow, purple, pink and blue imbue it with a sense of vitality. “This project grew out of my desire to give him some form of existence in the world beyond life,” Kostyanovsky said of her late father.
Although there is no overt representation of the body, the title Nature Makes Flesh is striking in its reference to the flesh. The trees were injured—the trunks had been chopped off—but there were no visible human bodies. As with much of her work, there are layers to be uncovered, and “flesh” ultimately refers to her father. “I was recently asked if my father’s clothes were washed before being used in sculptures,” she said. “I didn’t. They still preserved his cells.” Here, loss symbolizes the destruction of nature, emphasizing the relationship between humans and the environment. Kostyanovsky explains that the trees “personify the landscape, highlighting the common materiality of all living things.” It’s a pun that alludes not only to the loss of a loved one, but also to the violence humans inflict on nature. Her upcycling of materials is also an act of opposition to rampant consumerism in our culture and its impact on the environment, a topic of long-standing concern.
The capriciousness of life is reflected in all of Kostyanovsky’s works. Trees can be cut down and turned into stumps; birds, cows, and pigs can be shot and hung on their feet. But lately she’s leaning toward hope. Kostyanovsky’s latest series, Tropical Slaughterhouse, features her signature hanging meat carcasses, but with a surprising twist. In the holes of these dead animals there are bright tropical scenes. The fleshy pinks and reds of the corpses mingle with the bright greens, blues and yellows of the tropical jungle. Birds build nests in holes, just as in trees, and vines climb up tree cavities and produce flowers. Titles such as “Seed Belly,” “Healing the World,” and “Cows Become Landscape” emphasize this idea of renewal and healing. Not only are her pieces themselves recycled objects, but they now also include homages to natural regeneration. What we see is no longer a hanging corpse, but a home to new life, its folds teeming with diverse and colorful flora and fauna. “The concept is to transform the body from a mere site of slaughter into a vessel for new life to sprout from it – almost like a utopian environment,” explains Kostyanovsky.
