Teach Me to Ski
Video and sculptural installation, 2025
Curated into This too is a Threshold
Automat Gallery, Philadelphia, PA
Many journeys start with a parent teaching a child how to ride a bike, cast a line, or balance on skis. But not every parent knows how to teach, even when they have the talent themselves. My mother was a professional bodybuilder at her best and an overall impressive athlete, especially a water skier. She had a natural strength and grace that could draw applause from anyone watching her off the back of a boat. I always wanted to learn to ski on one ski, like she could, but that skill never transferred to me. Teaching, nurturing, and parenting were not her instincts. Our relationship was more like friends, or even fan and performer, rather than parent and child. Even now, years after her passing, I often speak about her incredible ability, allowing the myth to live on that she taught me to ski. I have never been able to ski on one ski. I have never skied with my mom. It’s just Nancy lore.
The sculptural component of Teach Me to Ski is a fictionalized memory of what it might have looked like if we had shared that experience. The installation presents two singular skis, hers and mine, positioned as if we are riding side by side. From the pedestal extends a taut ski rope, anchored to a video that unfolds like an instructional guide with step-by-step lessons on how to slalom water ski. The video interlaces mechanical explanations of the sport with fragmented home movies of us separately skiing, culminating in a digitally constructed scene where we finally appear to ski together.
This piece is an idealized memory of a connection I have always wanted to have with my mother but will never achieve.
I chose to pursue Teach Me to Ski in response to the exhibition’s focus on the hero’s journey because I have spent years conjuring my own myth of my mother—the strong and athletic champion—to give myself a story about her that isn’t rooted in her sadness or decline. Her athleticism became my way to rewrite her life as an epic. I keep telling that story because it is easier to celebrate her as a water-skiing legend than to acknowledge the disappointment of her lost potential or the ache of wanting to inherit something she never had the capacity to give.
Through sculpture and video, Teach Me to Ski becomes both an imagined collaboration and an act of repair. It is an attempt to collapse time and fill an unteachable gap: to construct the memory of a lesson that never took place and to finally learn from her, if only in myth.