together in the manner of David Hockney, in thin, horizontal strips. The result is a grotesquely twisted “portrait” that represents the ten rotations required to install a 1 ½-inch drywall screw. It’s one of the first pieces you see when you enter the show.
the same thing in works that have roamed in scale from a stadium-sized inflatable sound device to a bird skeleton made of his fingernail clippings. Yet the body remains his consistent theme. A particularly strong example is Thumbsucker, a white orb suspended before a wall painted ultramarine blue. It’s built from plaster casts of the artist’s lips, and has, hanging next to it, the figure of a floating astronaut. It's made from molds of the artist’s thumb. While these elements vary in size, their proportions remain anatomically correct, leading one to suspect the involvement of a 3-D printer; but that is not the case. Hawkinson relies on old-school methods and materials: namely, a dental impression compound, which shrinks by 50 percent when dry, and a urethane-based concoction, which expands by the same amount when soaked in water. In all, the pieces required seven generations of casting, and the totality represents, as well as anything Hawkinson’s done, his eccentric, heliocentric worldview.