I Need You To Behave shows the Oval Office inset with a news clipping of guide dogs trained to operate ATMs. Adorned with a sticker and marker pen drawing, Reid’s photo-collage dissembles notions of power and corruption to ridiculously abject proportions. “The text is like a psychotic voice addressing the image,” says Reid. “There’s an imperative in the way that the text works in relation to the image. The drawing is a continuity of the photograph. It’s all organised quite formally and done very quickly. There’s not a lot of time spent considering, and I do more than I use, make and edit later. Each work is developed from a bank of association. It’s informed, but the connections come from the habit of making. Most of my work deals with the idea of absurdity – things like ‘Homer’s finger’s too fat’, cultural things that enter parlance, things that get picked up amongst friends: they’re like symptoms or a currency. This ties in with physical awkwardness; it’s related to our physical relation to things, like making art.”
In Window, Smoke, Square, Reid constructs an image to reiterate the viewer’s processes of perception. The piece shows a detail of a generic magazine picture which Reid re-photographed (the glare in the bottom right corner is a result of her camera’s flash) and then over-layed with a decorative sticker and text. Labelling every element of the photo, Reid compounds the act of looking to a state of hyper-consciousness. “It’s about the amount of information you have in an image,” explains Reid, “how you make sense of an image if everything is active in telling you what it is. The work is proactive, or interfering, with a transparent viewing process: the degrees of substantiality or surreality of the thing in the image in relation to just seeing the image as purely icon. The square is a square but also something else, the room is negative space but is positive in comparison to the text, and the girl is reduced to the level of the other objects in the image.”
Reid’s work is a testament, symptom, and purge of media over-identification: situating herself as a kind of human ‘broadband’, she streams the experience of information overload in her large-scale photographic installations. These replicate the omnipresent bombardment of media messaging, as well as the internal expanse of the psyche. Her consumed images are re-ordered, re-authored, and personalised, subsumed into a warped constructed identity. She Gets Even Happier presents dozens of photographs, drawings, and collages on roughly cut foam-board, each humorously hung with a wire, a cartoon lingo for ‘picture’. “I wanted to find a way to present photo images on that kind of scale,” Reid explains. “Their multiplicity could also be something bigger, operate more ambitiously, be more monumental. It also allows me to go beyond the photo, to write, scrawl beyond the image, to play with something that’s a bit more autographic or direct – a bit like graffiti or vandalism.”
Reid describes her work as: “Drawing narratives or paradoxes between images and materials. I’m drawn to images that suggest hyperreal or transcendent states: the body, derelict and abject images, images that can also be made to oscillate between these. There’s often a sexual matrix in the work; loads and loads of really simplistic jokes that come from Freud or Lacan For Beginners, really bottom-level dumb jokes.” In It’s Time For Bed Cassiopeia, Reid plays off the Greek legend of Cassiopeia, a beautiful vain queen who was imprisoned in the sky, in a star constellation that often appears reversed. Her duplicity is rendered in Reid’s silver foil-based portrait as a background divided in two parts. The figure’s face, taken from a Manga porn character, is embodied in a crude sexy drawing; her top half set against shrewd calculating blue, and her nether bits bathed in tempting red, both warranting the applied parental advisory label.