‘Beauty Can Be Immaterial:’ Bianca Abdi-Boragi on Her Sculptures That Investigate Time
Have you ever wondered who you would be if your circumstances were different? This is a question that scaffolds Algerian-French-American Bianca Abdi-Boragi’s artistic practice. But, her approach is not direct, she does not work with alternative histories, negation, or abandonment, instead, she has a poetic approach leaning in and continuing to explore her multicultural heritage in new and beautiful ways.
In Clairvoyant, a group exhibition that I curated at Ceysson & Bénétière, two of her works are on view Hourglass a delicate drawing made with colored inks and dry pastels, a self-portrait in an hourglass with beautiful vegetal baroque elements. Evoking the passages of time this work borrows the concepts of yin and yang through an art historical aesthetic. Inverse Scepter (Volume + Energy= Labor) melds traditional Amazigh motifs with florals from Grasse, France’s perfume capital, and precious materials, bringing dignity and honor to the broom—an everyday object.
Having graduated from Yale’s Sculpture program and now teaching Sculpture at Alfred University Abdi-Boragi’s approach is one that first engages with materials to bring out ideas: “formally compelling and intellectually surprising.” I sat down with Abdi-Boragi to speak further about the elements that form her pensive, beautiful, and honorific creative universe.
Anna Mikaela Ekstrand: When you speak about Hourglass you cite French philosopher Gaston Bachelard’s concept of time: instantaneous. Like Husserl, Sartre, and Merleau-Ponty, he adhered to a phenomenological methodology. Are you as an artist drawn especially to Bachelard? And, why?
Bianca Abdi-Boragi: I am fascinated by various theories of time, but for this piece, I focused on Bachelard’s concept that time consists of a series of combined instants. Central to this is the idea of duration—time is ineffable, flowing through us in ways that cannot be fully grasped. Time pulses in our hearts, courses through our thoughts, and surges in our emotions. We burn with passion, cool with calm, shift between places, and hopefully find peace. Time expands or contracts depending on the intensity of each moment and circumstance. Some moments remain frozen—unforgettable and eternal, meant to be held onto forever.
This piece also embraces broader notions of time in relation to place. How do we experience time? How does one experience the multiple, the push and pulls of different cultures? Who are you in one place, and who are you in another? Who is the possibility of who you could have been, or who would you have been if you never left? This hourglass drawing, incorporating Baroque-style forms, is a self-portrait meditating on time and place.
Time is a recurring feature in your work. Your bread works “Hybrid Buffet” made of pain perdu which in French means French toast, the literal translation is lost bread, which might also refer to time. Perhaps, a Marxist critique highlighting that a factory expiration date does not render a product entirely useless. You have collected old bread to create a dice, a chair, and a table on which you have also organized performative meals. Please tell me more.
I grew up with a mother who would never waste a crumb. When we had dried bread, she would turn it into dough to make crepes. This mindset stayed with me; the bread body of work was born during the pandemic. At that time, it felt like we were all hanging by a thread. With no access to traditional materials, I noticed a dry piece of toast on my table one day. I tore a hole in the center of the slice, began sewing around it, and hung it by a single thread. That simple gesture sparked a 48-hour brainstorming session, during which I sketched and wrote down every possibility this material and form could offer. From this, I storyboarded a short experimental film, which led to two video art pieces, Crash and Ode to NY.
The form of a bread slice with a hole also evolved into a larger concept—a dice. I then sketched my first bread installation, The Heel of the Loaf. I was struck by how much waste existed, even though people were struggling. I approached a manager at a local industrial bread factory and a nearby supermarket, asking if they donated their leftover bread. They said no, due to liability concerns, though much of the bread still looked good. So, I began collecting discarded bread early in the morning or late at night.
My first large-scale bread installation was created in the fall of 2020, using expired bread collected from shops and bakeries in Bushwick and Ridgewood. The work critiques capitalism, represented by a six-sided dice with only one side showing six dots—facing down—while the other five sides display just one dot. The piece invokes fragile structures, sacred subsistence, and competition, highlighting how society’s most basic needs seem left to chance, where the odds are stacked against people. The sculpture’s bright, warm tones invite viewers to approach, peering into its cavities while stepping over a bed of breadcrumbs. This oversized, familiar object—its crumbly surface creating an uncanny texture—evokes a distorted sense of reality.
In June 2021, I was invited to Flux Factory to participate in Din Din, a series of free, socially distanced outdoor public events that use food and art to build community. I wanted to present a new sculpture, so I asked if I could serve the meal on a bread table, and they agreed. I served French crepes made from repurposed bread, using one of my mother’s recipes for utilizing dried bread. The meal was presented on Hybrid Buffet, a table made of discarded bread fully coated with matte varnish. This mosaic-like table draws on ephemeral materials to explore themes of subsistence, labor, assimilation, and the ongoing consequences of post-colonial socio-economic structures.
The mosaic’s motif was inspired by the façade of the Ketchaoua Mosque in Algiers, which was partially destroyed during the French occupation, converted into a church, and later reconverted into a mosque after Algeria’s independence. This piece addresses the hybridization of culture, architectonic narratives, mechanisms of assimilation, religious conflict, and, most importantly, pacifism and the act of breaking bread together. To complete the set, I created a bread chair, which was exhibited along with the table at the SPRING/BREAK Art Show and the French Embassy in NYC.
I continue to think about bread as a material and am preparing new projects that incorporate it.
The second piece on view “Inverse Scepter (Volume + Energy= Labor)” is a broom with a white bronze handle etched with Amazigh (Berber) motifs and other ornamentation. You have replaced the broom bristles with roses. What is your process like when you work with sculpture? How did you get to this form?
I love French history and castles. During a visit to the Arms and Armor Department at the Metropolitan Museum, I was captivated by the intricate metal carvings. The level of detail was stunning, with European-style ornamentation featuring floral and mythological motifs—elements that I love. I took countless photos, especially close-ups of the engravings, which later inspired me.
Soon after, I was invited to pitch a series of sculptures at the Museum of Parfum in France, focusing on the motif of the Grasse Rose—a pink, fragrant rose used in iconic perfumes like those from Chanel and Dior. I sketched eight rose sculptures for the project, including the ‘Broom/Scepter’ piece, though I did not create it until later. Initially, I wanted to place fresh, fragrant roses atop the broom, drawn to the idea of a scepter with an ephemeral component—a counterpoint to traditional scepters adorned with diamonds. It reminded me of nature’s fleeting treasures, like morning dew on flowers. I am fascinated by the idea that beauty and treasures can be immaterial and ephemeral, in contrast to the pursuit of material wealth.
When do you actively decide to incorporate Algerian and Amazigh motifs and concepts in your work, and when does it happen intuitively?
This choice felt deeply personal. Many illiterate Amazigh immigrants, like my grandmother, arrived in France in the 1960s and worked as janitors. In my family, working hard to earn money was a necessity, and I started working at fourteen, taking small jobs, including cleaning, while in school. Later, when I worked in various jobs in NYC, I was shocked by how the upper-class staff treated janitors with such disdain and exploitation. I found this inhuman and wanted to create a piece that addressed dignity in relation to invisible labor. No matter what someone does, everyone deserves respect and dignity and should be the ruler of their realm. With this in mind, I decided to title the piece ‘Inverse Scepter’.
Visiting while on holiday, I fell in love with the Amazigh ornamentation in the drawings at the Amazigh Museum in Agadir, Morocco. When I was invited to participate in a group exhibition at the HUB-Robeson Galleries at Penn State University. I proposed several works, including the sketch for ‘Inverse Scepter,’ which was selected for the show. The exhibition centered on the theme of invisible labor, and thinking back to the scepters I had seen at the Metropolitan Museum it hit me one day that I needed to combine them with Amazigh ornamentation.
You work across mediums but you are currently teaching sculpture at Alfred University. What is unique to teaching sculpture as opposed to other disciplines/mediums?
I teach classes focused on kinetic sculpture, sculpture incorporating objects, as well as tactile and interactive pieces. I also teach an introductory course where students get hands-on experience with materials like metal, wood, bronze, plaster, wax, and even soap. This is by far the best job I have ever had. I love working with my hands and engaging with specific materials, and my students share that same passion. They are super creative and have a strong grasp of their craft. Each day, we begin by looking at sculptures in relation to specific materials and ideas, discussing them as a group. My goal is to prepare them for the real world, equipping them with the strategies they will need to keep creating and showcasing their work.
What is unique about teaching sculpture for me is that it requires students to truly engage with the properties of the materials to bring out ideas in ways that are both formally compelling and intellectually surprising.
Bianca Abdi-Boragi’s work is on view in Clairvoyant alongside works by Yasmine Anlan Huang, Ayana Evans, Linnéa Gad, Katya Grokhovsky, Katie Hubbell, Anna Ting Möller, ORLAN, and Hanae Utamura at Ceysson & Bénétière, 956 Madison Avenue, through October 19th, 2024. Hourglass is available as a print with an edition of 100. For inquiries please email francesca@ceyssonbenetiere.com.
You Might Also Like
White Cube New York’s Inaugural Show Alludes to 90s Hip-Hop
To Deflate or Inflate? Lesley Bodzy and Katie Commodore Explore Femininity in ‘Womanhood 102’
What's Your Reaction?
Anna Mikaela Ekstrand is editor-in-chief and founder of Cultbytes. She mediates art through writing, curating, and lecturing. Her latest books are Assuming Asymmetries: Conversations on Curating Public Art Projects of the 1980s and 1990s and Curating Beyond the Mainstream. Send your inquiries, tips, and pitches to info@cultbytes.com.