I Will Not Let Him Win in Death
*This post and the art it describes contain references to sexual abuse and trauma.
Art has connected Ali Waller to many places around the U.S. and the world. It has also connected her with her own journey of healing and with hundreds of other women.
“I will not let him win in death” is Waller’s powerful, ever-evolving project, recently on display at the Harrison Center. The installation consists of layered, plaster castings of breasts, with the molds climbing in clusters along the wall, accentuated by dried flowers and leaves. Each casting comes from a woman who has sat across from Waller to share the story of their relationship with their body, with their sexuality, and with sexual violence. While not every woman involved in the installation is a victim of sexual abuse, many of them are, and the size and breadth of the piece is inspired by the solidarity among women standing against an abuser, and against abusers in general. The process is intended to foster self evaluation and healing. At the end of the casting session, Waller asks her subject what they would like the cast to represent and what they would like to leave behind with it.
The piece recently installed at the Harrison Center is made up of casts from thirty women local to Indianapolis. The original installation, hung in Waller’s recently opened gallery space in Chattanooga, contained more than 533 molds, coming from more than 200 women, “spanning from 20-75 years old, from Philadelphia to Pakistan.” Waller’s initial goal was 200— the number, a reference to the case of Jeffery Epstein, a prominent businessman who was convicted of sexually abusing numerous women, many of whom were minors. Over the course of many years, he paid victims $200 to recruit other vulnerable young women who would become victims themselves. But Waller is firm in the focus of her work: “This exhibition was not inspired by Epstein. It was inspired by the women who fought from their teenage years into adulthood against sexual violence.”
Waller referenced that specific case mainly because of its fame, atrocity, and timing, but it could have been any one of the people whose abusive behavior and criminal acts were exposed by the Me Too movement; it could have been any one of the people whose abuse is not known, not spoken, who have not faced the consequences of the pain their abuse has caused.
As Waller began casting in Indianapolis, she decided to alter her approach in the installation to better serve her evolving project and the conversation surrounding it. She cast 30 molds during her week-long residency and plans to continue this project in cities around the U.S. for the foreseeable future. This new work aims to center survivors and reflect the statistic of how many women in the US will experience sexual abuse or violence in their lifetime, with 1 out of 5 molds being painted gold.
The process of casting so many women has allowed Waller to refine her methods, embedding natural conversations on consent and self acceptance. Waller allows the conversation to flow out of each woman’s experience, whether focused on bodily expression, overcoming trauma, a celebration of femininity and sexuality as part of one’s own journey, or all of the above.
The project has taken on a larger life than Waller anticipated, with many women sharing publicly after being cast what the installation and their participation in it means to them as well as about their experiences with sexual abuse. One participant described her experience of being cast as “sobering” and “cathartic.”
Rebekah Osborne, a musician who grew up in Indianapolis, composed a song to accompany Waller’s artist residency and installation. Osborne describes the process of being cast by Waller as affirming of her own experience— one that has involved a lack of mental, emotional, and bodily autonomy. “My Body is My Home” is a three-part “mini-concerto,” an ode to Osborne’s classical music upbringing, that blends with the contemporary, airy electronic style she uses today.
Each portion of the song represents a time in Osborne’s life, different stages in her ongoing journey of learning to develop her intuition, listen to her needs, and accept her own identity. The first movement evokes “rootlessness,” the second, her shrinking adjustment to become “acceptable and normal and unproblematic,” and the third, a rising “resolve to move forward” into the person she wants to become. Obsorne has struggled with the feeling that she was always “too much and not enough.” But she was able to say at the end of the process, “When I finished up the casting with Ali, she asked me what I wanted to leave behind with the cast, and I said “Shame about who I am and what I want.”
The title of the installation, “I will not let him win in death,” is a quote by Chauntae Davies, a survivor of Epstein’s abuse. Following Epstein’s death in prison as he awaited trial, many victims felt robbed of justice when all of his recent charges for sex trafficking were dismissed.
Victims often find themselves nameless, whether suffering alone with a trauma they have yet to disclose; or as someone whose name has been replaced with the word ‘victim’; or whose story was unheard or not believed. The anonymity in Waller’s installation, however, is one not of erasure, but of solidarity. As Waller describes in her artist statement, “It’s about pairing anonymity with intimacy.” Just as Epstein, his involvement symbolized in a broken jaw bone encased on the wall, was a proxy for the rich, powerful predator, the molds serve as an embodiment of everywoman; the casts are your friend, your sister, your mother, you.
Viewers were able to experience the Indianapolis iteration of “I will not let him win in death,” on display at the Harrison Center in their new elevator lobby. If you were cast by Waller, your mold is now available to pick up. Follow her work on her website, where you can set up a casting if Waller comes to your city, and on Instagram @alicekayw.