ANN AGEE
THE CHICKEN SLAUGHTER

 It was here that Ann saw the whole scene through a new lens. She had always loved those antique European porcelain figurines, those delicate scenes of aristocrats in powdered wigs, sipping tea, or strolling through manicured gardens. But what if she could take that porcelain tradition and inject it with something real, something personal, something that reflected the lives of regular people—the workers, the laborers, the unsung heroes in her life?

The scene she created in porcelain would turn out to be a stunning project. It featured five pedestals, each one carefully sculpted to represent a key player in the process. There was the photographer, standing off to the side with a poised elegance that felt strangely out of place in the gritty setting. Next to him stood a sculpture of Ann and her husband, both sculpted with their sleeves rolled up, their faces set in concentration as they helped to pluck a chicken’s feathers. Then there were Ann's two neighbors, pulling feathers off their own upside-down chicken. In the last two sculptures, two individuals were captured mid-action—the eviscerator, and the rinser, who stood right next to the eviscerator with a hose. 

The chicken slaughter was now remembered in artistic porcelain; a reminder that art could be found in the unlikeliest of places. Ann, standing next to her husband in that delicate scene, had given the world a new lens through which to view the ordinary. She had taken labor and made it celebratory, just like the porcelain figurines of our past.