Chloe Bass’s “Soft Services” Give Pause and Reflection

If you’ve found yourself in Volunteer Park in the last few years, you may have come across a gathering of large stones with smooth surfaces and words printed on their faces. You might wonder about their purpose. Some seem short enough to be seats, but others are taller and appear to be tombstones or monoliths. They stick out from the green of the park, among the moist grass and grand, fluffy trees. Though they are natural stone, it is easy to pick out these structures as being different and purposeful, especially as you arc past a new bend in one of Volunteer Park’s many pathways and see another stone off in the distance, beckoning. These pieces fascinate and enchant, inviting us to question their meaning.

The formations are a part of a collection of sculptures called Soft Services by Chloë Bass, a multiform conceptual artist based in New York. Having debuted in August 2022, these stones, sometimes referred to as ‘benches,’ have become a prominent feature in Volunteer Park’s central hub, continuing to offer valuable reflection in the years following their unveiling.

Sponsored by the Henry Art Gallery, Bass’s work extends across the park, with fourteen stones in the park itself, placed along one of the main pathways, and two more offsite at the Henry on the University of Washington’s main campus. But Bass’s collection spans not just a vast physical space; it also covers several perspectives and inquiries, prompting its viewer to consider multiple issues through multiple lenses.

In Bass’s own words:

My work evokes the particular state of attention produced by being alone in public: the sudden sense of everything as fascinating, the strange anxiety between feeling invisible and suddenly becoming aware that you are seen.

The title of the work itself invokes curiosity. According to the artist, Soft Services harken back to the Ryan White CARE Act during the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Through this act, ‘soft services’ like massage or other services not deemed medically necessary were able to find funding to improve the well-being of those suffering from the disease. Today, Soft Services might remind us of the early days of the pandemic, when we sought small comforts in quarantine, like baking bread, walks through the neighborhood, or sewing masks for those in need. It also calls to mind the smaller, less obvious ways that we care for each other: a soft touch, a lingering gaze, a small smile.

These pieces urge us to consider all of this and more. They ask, how do we care for each other, for nature, for the rights of others? What can that caring look like? How does it look in public versus in private? How might we extend our care outside of ourselves?

A stone with engraved prose in the Soft Services series by Chloe Bass / The Evergreen Echo

The sculptures in Soft Services stand either alone or in groups of three, the former seeming lonely and out of place, while the latter appear to be in conversation with one another, like a group of friends standing in close proximity. But each stone, no matter how far apart, speaks to the whole. They each bear the engraving of a plant, whether native or invasive species (such as black locust and western juniper), amid its own rich ecological history. They each have the same color and splotches, as if cut from the same block of stone. In these ways, the pieces stay connected despite their physical distance.

The stones also speak to each other and to their audience through a series of poetic phrases on their surfaces. One says, “the cultivation and preservation of delicate collections,” Another reads: “abundant forms of reinvention we somehow can’t sustain.” These phrases might make one consider the natural world and how we interact with it. How might we care for the preservation of the flora and fauna around us while we continue to flourish in an age of technological advancement?

Then another stone adds more context and questions:

As if the very existence of nature requires us to protect it; as if the very existence of bodies requires us to police them.

Now, we consider the preservation of the body, reproductive rights, the medical industry, and more. Each of Bass’s pieces seems to bounce off of the others, fracturing and spiraling into new perspectives and considerations, offering endless value and intellectual stimulation.

I recommend that on your next visit to Volunteer Park, you make an effort to visit each stone, to read each line and stay curious about the questions raised. Each sculpture acts as its own meditation, offering guidance and a new way to enjoy and explore the beautiful park in which they reside, spurring not only the physical movement through nature from one stone to the next, but mental and emotional movement too.