When walking through the Whitney Museum of American Art, Kainoa Gruspe’s Welcome to here—doorstops immediately attracted my attention. This piece incorporates many found objects, including salvaged stone; kiawe wood, haole koa wood, and Douglas fir; coconut fiber, plastic, and cement. The installation is composed of many small pieces, usually combining two or three materials together. For example, one piece consists of a stone enclosed within a woven rope structure, while another features a found glass bottle tied onto a brick with rope. These pieces are scattered casually across the floor, giving the installation an unfinished and organic feeling, as if the objects naturally accumulated within the gallery space rather than being carefully arranged.

The diversity of materials and the contrast between different ways of treating them add a strong sense of civilization and history to the work. It gives the impression that these objects had been used for a long time before being collected and displayed. The rough surfaces, weathered textures, and handmade qualities create a feeling that the materials carry traces of everyday life and labor. For instance, the way plant fibers are woven around the stones constantly reminds me of traditional fish traps. Another piece, in which burlap is wrapped around a stone and secured with plastic zip ties, makes me think of bundled pork sold in markets or prepared for cooking. These uses of materials evoke memories of past ways of living experiences. Although the objects themselves are simple, the combinations of natural fibers, industrial materials, and salvaged fragments create layers of cultural associations.

Considering that Gruspe collected many of these objects from golf courses, hotels, and military bases in Hawaii, the work inevitably reflects his thoughts on extractive relationships between colonialism, industrialization and the environment. Through creating these doorstops, Gruspe hopes to keep the door open for more possibilities in the future. The title itself suggests resistance against closure, as if memory, history, and cultural identity can still remain active in spite of environmental and social transformation.

The other piece that echoes this work from a distance is heʻe and leho forever / cones. It is composed of hanging translucent fabrics, shells, fishing materials, wood, and found objects. The translucent fabric is supported by a wooden frame and a piece of cement, standing upright on the floor like a fishing net. Gruspe embroiders onto this surface and attaches fossilized squid to it.

The title uses Hawaiian words: “heʻe” means octopus and “leho” refers to a seashell. These references connect the artwork closely to the ocean and to Hawaiian culture. The cement comes from Kālia, a site that was later developed into the Hilton Hawaiian Village resort, suggesting Hawaii’s colonial history and the impact of industrialization on the ocean and the land. Gruspe transforms these remnants of developed land into parts of his artwork, encouraging viewers to reconsider the relationship between land, memory, and nature. His works carry both a sense of mourning for what has been lost and a quiet hope for future possibilities.