ANGEL IN THE HOUSE
Hung on the left, right and rear walls of the gallery are three photographs measuring 51 x 33 inches in white frames. Rich blacks, luminous oranges, and hazy pinks flood angular planes. Carouge’s images of light and color appear filmic, and only through photographic fidelity describe their construction.
Placed on the floor, congruent with the walls, are five low, irregularly shaped sculptures of varying sizes. Each shape recalls floor patches assembled from scrap wood, embedded in the otherwise typical blonde-wood gallery floor. These eccentric anomalies fill gaps once occupied by walls–walls which formed closets and doorways in the space’s previous configuration. Ronayne’s architectural forms are constructed of 1/4 inch hot rolled steel plates, cut by waterjet, which are placed over corresponding shapes cut from 1/2 rebond carpet padding.
“Had I not killed her she would have killed me. She would have plucked the heart out of my writing. For, as I found, directly I put pen to paper, you cannot review even a novel without having a mind of your own, without expressing what you think to be the truth about human relations, morality, sex. And all these questions, according to the Angel of the House, cannot be dealt with freely and openly by women; they must charm, they must conciliate, they must–to put it bluntly–tell lies if they are to succeed. Thus, whenever I felt the shadow of her wing or the radiance of her halo upon my page, I took up the inkpot and flung it at her. She died hard. Her fictitious nature was of great assistance to her. It is far harder to kill a phantom than a reality.” – Virginia Woolf, “Professions for Women,” 1931