Cranberry Juice

I grew up on a cranberry farm in Massachusetts, and much of my work references this upbringing—evoking both abundance and fertility, as well as tension within patriarchal family hierarchies. This series is part of an ongoing body of work in which I paint using actual cranberry juice. I exploit the staining effect of the juice on antique linens (napkins, doilies, etc.), signaling both the abject and an intimate history with the body.

I use the sediment at the bottom of a bottle of cranberry concentrate—the must from the berries’ skins—to make the darkest marks. These stains age well over time: they don’t spread or fade, only darken, shifting from red to a deeper brown.

This material holds deep personal significance. Its smell alone returns me to a specific time and place: the wet, brackish scent of berries cracking underfoot during harvest season.