Every child knows that a box is a universe unto itself. Disgorged, neither the box nor its contents are as special: empty, a box has no purpose; emptied out, items lose the allure of being mysterious and unseen.
Artist Ron Pippin well understands the fascination of the box, but unlike most containers, the contents of his museum boxes are just as fascinating as the rusty hinged sarcophagi wrapped in rotting leather that contains them. Jars of teeth. Blackened skulls engraved with miniscule Cyrillic script. Mechanical wings. Scalpels and tweezers. Mallards done up in taxidermy. The mysterious valise of a mad necromancer.
Tinker Girl's description is perfect: "I become lightheaded pouring over the vials of mysteriously labelled fluids and powders, scrawled in a script I cannot read. I boggle at meticulously arranged skeletal remains of moles, ducks and cats, either neatly displayed in order of size, or posed in an imitation of life surrounded by Steampunk contraptions that I dare not imagine the purposes of... I imagine that I could spend a brief lifetime staring at each part and its relationship with the others - like some Steampunk Science mandala."
Ron Pippin [Artist's Site]
