When I read the physical yellow letter, torn from my brother’s legal pad, I’m often overwhelmed. Initially, it’s a reminder of where he is, and where he’ll be for some time. And then there’s the ability to read, and reread, thus harping on his thoughts and feelings- and it can be emotionally paralyzing. Yet it allows me to hold something that he’s touched - almost as if that’s our form of contact for the time being, reminding me of just how much I miss him. And strangely, that’s the moment that is special.

Canaan: when I read your letter, I feel your voice is a multi-layered installation and collaborative performance that intimately displays the exchange between Nastassja Swift and her brother, who is currently incarcerated within the Virginia Department of Corrections. Articulating feelings of absence, erasure, and the personal and communal impact of mass incarceration, Nastassja’s culminating body of work explores her personal experience navigating, as his sister, the past few years of Canaan’s incarceration.

Opening night letter reading performance
2021

Between Us
A collection of recorded phone conversations between me and Canaan
2021


Security Blanket,
Mixed textiles, glass beads, batting, steel frame Quilt: 5 x 46 feet. Frame: 6.5 x 10 x 11 feet
The dimensions of the frame are that of Canaan’s current cell, measured by his shoes
2021

Installation view at the Galveston Arts Center, Galveston TX 2021


Can I Hold Her Up Too?
Mixed textiles, batting, wood, video
Quilt: 36 x 36 inches, Stand: 38 x 38 x 17 inches 2021

I Wish We Could Go Back
Cotton, batting, nightstand, old photos, radio, alarm clock, telephone, QR code
Quilt: 28 x 28 inches
2021

Who’s/Whose Property, Silk
Cotton, batting, wood, Virginia Beach City Jail Property Box and belongings.
Quilt: 24 x 36 inches
2021