Visiting the studio of Toni Jo Coppa

 

It is easy to imagine the horror visitors might feel if they were to stumble into this space at night. In one corner a life-sized human form spined head to toe with two-inch nails faces the wall like something from Hellraiser. Beside that looms a centaur frozen mid-trot fixed atop a bureau, covered in plaster, wax, and fluff. It bares one quail wing from its bust and a human face tied on with silver tape. Above them both grins the trophy head of a blue pig crafted with outsized features, a mouth clustered with malaligned teeth, and unnervingly realistic eyes. More teeth and furs rest on tables and in drawers. Various limbs and mechanical bits come together in collaged taxidermies that line the shelves. When I arrive, Toni Jo Coppa is painting dark shadows on one of three canvases hung on the wall.