Mexican Basket - Another Influence

I bought this basket in the mid 80's at the Eye’s Gallery on South Street in Philadelphia owned by Isaiah and Julia Zagar.

Adela Akers, my graduate school advisor, introduced us to the Zagars and we visited their apartment above the store. The apartment had walls covered in mosaics that Isaiah made from tiles a, objects, and broken mirrors in an attempt to bring some of the sunshine of Mexico to Philadelphia. When I bought the basket, I was freshly out of my MFA program at Tyler School of Art and very low on cash. Still when I saw this basket, I needed to buy it. The simple structure of hooped ribs covered with a bark net spoke to me with infinite depth.

Inspiration from Grandma

My grandmother gave me this sewing basket when I was a young girl. I often think that her interest in sewing and crochet shaped my artistic decision to become a fiber artist. This basket, however, was an inspiration for my structures. A strong structure with looped reeds holds the basket up. The fabric walls hang from this structure. My fabric walls have become stiffer with my clay/fiber material, but nonetheless are dependent upon a structure.

Ruth Chenven Foundation

The Ruth Chenven Foundation is having an exhibit to celebrate their 25th Anniversary. I received a grant from them in their third year of existence. It was a wonderful grant that gave me time and money to explore nonwoven fibers at the then Philadelphia College of Textiles. Now Philadelphia University, I think. I worked in a nonwoven textile laboratory, very much on my own. The professor had invented a textile that was used on space missions. It was a felted textile able to withstand high heats, so the astronauts used mittens padded with the textile when they went outside on space repair missions. The felted textiles I made were certainly a precursor to the work I do now. I coated some of them with clay. Now I mix fibers with clay.

I am not in the anniversary show. One name I do recognize is Betsy Damon. She founded No Limits for Women in the Arts. I was involved in this wonderful support system for women artists in the late 80's, early 90's. Betsy was working on her water missions then and has continued to develop wonderful environmental works in the United States and China.

I have been working on a promotional photo page for the exhibit. Each artist who has won a grant in the past is permitted to send some promotional materials.

Takeshi Horisaki NOLA and NYC

Takeshi Horisaki cast a ravaged New Orleans house with latex paint before demolition. Listen to this radio broadcast from WNYC. He installed it in Socrates Sculpture Park in the Queens. It is interesting to see the house transformed into the latex replica that has a cloth like quality - swaying like a curtain.

Serra: Sculpture (and Nerves) of Steel

While I could never be a macho, heavy metal sculptor, I enjoyed this article on Richard Serra’s retrospective by Randy Kennedy. I enjoyed the subtle comparisons of sculptors to painters, which started with a story about Jasper Johns. Both artists, however, are very interested in all aspects of the process of making art. A quote from Serra: “If you’re going to watch the process, watch it all the time, because it’s always bespeaking something that’s of interest,” he said. “And I don’t think that’s Duchampian. I think that’s more Eastern. That’s more Suzuki.” I think this is about paying attention to the process. Serra’s interest lies in the engineering of his works and in the process of their placement by a professional team of riggers, as well as, the formal placement of angled planes in space. I relate to Serra’s use of space and how he manipulates the journey through his pieces. The negative space and the cavernous passage are as important as his heavy, rusty metal material. Watch the multimedia audio show about placing the sculptures. Here, he speaks of why the process is so important to him.

Nature, soul, matter, and dematerialization

Since I started to read The Spell of the Sensuous, I have been analyzing many philosophies with a new twist. This especially occurred during two talks at my local Unitarian Universalist Congregation. One was about Transcendentalism and the other about quantum physics. Transcendentalism, like David Abram's book is a call to return to nature. The speaker, however, referred to the spirit as a dematerialized entity. Something above, beyond our physical being. Abrams, from what I understand, is asserting that the soul is deeply embedded in physical matter, in the very stuff of the earth, stones, soil, birds, sound, and trees. It is through our senses that we can regain a connection to nature and a larger whole. The edges between the perceiver and the perceived blur.

Quantum physics, according to Rick Magyar, contends that most of matter is air. 90% or so of every molecule is air. If so, then why can't we, if we are mostly air, walk through walls? The wall also is mostly air. Why can't the molecule move between each other? He also talked of the spirit as connected to the mind and his language was peppered with descriptions that divided mind and body.

Certainly, to me, working with earth materials is my way of understanding larger issues. Through the senses, I have experiential connections to a feeling of oneness. This may not happen every day, or even on a regular basis, but it is one factor in my choices of material.

Gallery of Atelier d'Art de France

Agnes His

Yesterday's mail included a brochure from a French gallery that I visited at SOFA Chicago in November. They announced their exhibit at SOFA New York in early June. I was very struck by the wood vessels of Marc Ricourt. Spiraling gouge marks created intriguing shell-like forms. His subtle surfaces were coated with matt applications of iron oxide. The new brochure tells me that he is a self-taught woodturner. He had a residency at the Woodturning Center in Philadelphia in 2001. The Center was established about the time I left Philadelphia. The ceramic work of Agnes His repeatedly pulled me back to this gallery. I was disappointed that her work is not on this new brochure. So I had to look her up. I liked textures made by the marks on her surfaces filled with white pigment. Although one artist used wood and the other clay, the works had a very similar sensibility.

Growing Willow

My husband just planted basketry and furniture willow at our "farm" in Chippewa County. He ordered the willow cuttings from Bonnie Gale of English Basketry Willows in New York State. I met Bonnie Gale in the early 90's during a willow conference near Liverpool, England. The conference featured artists, biologists, craftsmen, urban planners, and business people. At Ness Gardens, we participated in making outdoor sculptures, learning about the great variety of willow types, the many ways of growing willow, and how willow can be used to create sound barrier fences in neighborhoods near busy motorways.

Bonnie has been growing willow since the early 80's and teaches traditional willow basketry skills. She founded the American Willow Growers Network to share information and exchange cuttings. Her page on living willow structures is interesting.

Some of my structures contain willow growing wild on our farm. I will be able to harvest a greater variety soon.

Art vs. Craft - an Old Debate?

Long ago, I thought I was tired of the old art vs. craft arguments. Then I read the Redefining Craft, a blog by Dennis Stevens. I think Stevens’ comments on appropriation struck me with new vigor because I am wrestling with this issue in my studio. I know an Afghan threshing utensil from a Santa Fe gallery inspired my current project. The thresher was a large wooden form hanging on a white gallery wall, separated from the context of it’s original use. Rows and rows of sharp stones embedded in the wood added mystery, until I knew their function was to separate grain from straw. It gave me the idea to put stones into a clay/fiber piece. After collecting stones, I lined them up in the studio. Living with this row of stones for months convinced me that they were like vertebrae. Now they are embedded into clay/straw that I pressed between a narrow ladder-like form of branches that arches slightly away from the wall. I sometimes marvel at the way different influences converge into a piece. While the natural materials and the raw branches give a certain primitive look, I hope that this piece does not look derivative, that it has some poetic ring.