Lynne Feinberg: Ornament

Feinberg’s sculptures feel as much drawn as they are built. Each begins with wood that is cut, carved, and painted into compositions that hum with pattern and movement. Her surfaces are alive with line: ink-like marks painted into the grain, rhythm meeting rhythm until geometry gives way to something organic. Her artwork pulses between order and wildness. Shapes stretch, lean, and ripple outward. There’s a physical joy in their making, but also a meditative precision. Each sculpture is its own small ecosystem, balancing delicacy and density, the ancient and the improvisational. They don’t behave like static objects. They breathe, they radiate, they hold the vibration of being made by hand.