Metafiction, definition from Wikipedia:
Fiction in which the author self-consciously alludes to the artificiality or literariness of a work by parodying or departing from novelistic conventions (especially naturalism) and traditional narrative techniques. It poses questions about the relationship between fiction and reality, usually using irony and self-reflection. It can be compared to presentational theatre, which does not let the audience forget it is viewing a play; metafiction forces readers to be aware that they are reading a fictional work.
The term is from literature, mostly to describe stories where the author speaks directly to the reader, breaking down the wall between the fiction of the story and the reader’s understanding of reality.
I loved metafiction before I knew what it was – the way that a story can both cut into and reinforce fantasy, the way it confirms and questions a specific reality. A story that pokes holes in itself as it builds.
In my old apartment building in Chinatown, hundreds of lives operate alongside each other. If you were to slice the building neatly in half, you would see those disconnected lives in contrast and the layers of stories that never connect. The most densely packed mysteries live right next door.
I’ve appropriated the term metafiction to describe the way I am playing with context and the art object.
Each metafiction is an installation of handmade miniature works of art, but they are my own work – some are miniatures of paintings I made in 2001, or an installation I finished in 2006, while others currently exist only as miniatures. Each miniature body of work is a cohesive body of work with its own concepts and materiality.
These different collections of work wouldn’t normally be seen together because they are so different from each other, and this process allows me to connect all of what I do in a way that also plays with the idea of context and how context affects the understanding and response to art.
Metafictions don’t become “metafiction” until the full-scale work is complete, whether it is installed in the space directly, or when the viewer has knowledge of the full-scale work through experience or reproduction.
This experience underlines the fact that the works in each metafiction are not arbitrary paintings and sculptures designed to fill a cute miniature space. They are cohesive bodies of work intentionally placed in different contexts.
The tension and value of the metafiction is the way that it blurs the implied solid line between fiction and reality. The experience of the full-scale and miniature work together break the viewer from absolute sureness about their role in relation to the work.