Showing posts with label in between the silence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label in between the silence. Show all posts

Thursday, March 1, 2018

At a crossroads...of the rusty kind

How do you know when it's time to let go?


How do you know for certain that it is time to move on?


These are a few of the questions that I've been pondering of late - 


most recently this morning as most all of my rusted cottons and organzas 


were transferred from 3 work drawers into 1 storage bin.


Discharged cottons


as well as a few that were eco printed found their way into a second bin.


When visions of pieces yearning to be created flit through my mind, these days they are not of the rusty kind.


So...how do you know when it's time to let go? And just what form does letting go take?

Do I put the bins in the basement where out of sight will equal out of mind, but where they will be accessible if some future day finds me dreaming rusty dreams again?

Or, and this is a bit scary even though it is what my brain says makes the most sense, do I truly let go and offer the lot for sale as yardage? Fat quarters or bags of...bags of what exactly? Bags of rusted cottons? Would it be priced by the piece or pound? Would anyone even want it?

In truth, I feel as if I already have moved on...to tea bags and other scrumptious papers. Did I just answer my own question? Probably. But will I listen to myself? Hmm...

I could really use your help on this one. What do you do with old materials when you move on?

Thanks in advance!



Thursday, March 30, 2017

Friday in New York

Last Friday morning found me boarding the train to venture into New York to spend the day with the amazing Lotta Helleberg. After grabbing a cup of coffee, we began strolling through Chelsea.

Kwang Young Chun at Kim Foster Gallery

Our first stop was Kim Foster Gallery. As you walk through the door, Kwang Young Chun's work of wrapped and bound mulberry paper offers a quiet greeting.

Kwang Young Chun at Kim Foster Gallery, detail

To me, the triangular pieces wrapped in mulberry paper are basic units of information, the basic cells of a life that only exists in art, as well as in individual social events or historical facts. By attaching these pieces one by one to a two-dimensional surface, I wanted to express how basic units of information can both create harmony and conflict. This became an important milestone in my long artistic journey to express the troubles of a modern man who is driven to a devastated life by materialism, endless competition, conflict, and destruction. After almost twenty years, I was now able to communicate with my own gestures and words. Kwang Young Chun artist statement via website

Kwang Young Chun at Kim Foster Gallery, detail

Christian Faur at Kim Foster Gallery

A spot of color around the corner caught my eye and provided a surprise when I stepped 

Christian Faur at Kim Foster Gallery, detail

closer for a good look at Christian Faur's work with crayons.

Christian Faur at Kim Foster Gallery, detail

My earliest memories of making art involve the use of wax crayons. I can still remember the pleasure of opening a new box of crayons: the distinct smell of the wax, the beautifully colored tips, everything still perfect and unused. Using the first crayon from a new box always gave me a slight pain. Through a novel technique that I have developed, I again find myself working with the familiar form of the crayon.

Because of the three-dimensional nature of the crayons, the individual surface images appear to change form as one moves about the gallery space. The images completely disappear when viewed from close up, allowing one to read the horizontally sequenced crayon text and to take in the beautifully colored crayon tips -- all the while being reminded of that first box of crayons. Christian Faur via website

Christian Faur at Kim Foster Gallery

Christian Faur at Kim Foster Gallery, detail

Ambling on down the street, a flash of red in the back of a gallery catch our attention. One look at each other as if to ask "Do you want to go in?" was all it took

John McCracken at David Zwirner

for us to enter David Zwirner gallery in order to get a closer look at John McCracken's simple, yet exquisite sculptures.

My works are minimal and reduced, but also maximal. I try to make them concise, clear statements in three-dimensional form, and also to take them to a breathtaking level of beauty. –John McCracken via David Zwirner website


Minds and imaginations reeling, we made one more gallery stop (which requires a post of its own) before


enjoying a leisurely lunch at Cookshop. It was the first that either of us had eaten there, but certainly won't be the last.


If you follow Lotta on Instagram, you've seen shots of her mark making journal. Well, this is it! Not only was I lucky enough to see it, but to get to meander through its pages as well. It is a work of art in itself.


And so are Lotta's mended jeans. She was working on these when we met in DC back in December so it fun was to see them being worn. Makes me consider mending my over-worn jeans rather than cutting them up to become my journal covers.


Our last stop was the wonderland that is ABC Home. These handmade paper wrapped bundles are just one of the examples of the treasures this store holds.


All too soon, it was time for Lotta and I to go our separate ways. The return train ride provided a bit of time to reflect on the day's art; to consider why it was the more seemingly simple pieces that held me spellbound. There's an idea beginning to form. It needs time to percolate first, but it's there. And that's good.


Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Ann Hamilton: habitus

Happy 2017!

In celebration of the new year, I ventured to Philadelphia to catch Ann Hamilton's habitus at The Fabric Workshop before it closed on January 8.

Located across the street from the Philadelphia Convention Center, The Fabric Workshop is spread over several floors of an old brick building. The section of habitus located on the first floor displayed numerous works by Ann Hamilton. Those photos will be shared later.

This day, it was the section of the exhibition that had begun as an online project entitled, cloth • a commonplace on Tumblr caught my eye. Each page contains a quote that in some way pertains to cloth. Most that I read seemed to be from fictional books, but not all. Some were only one line while others were paragraphs. 


One quote per page.


Viewers were encouraged to take those that spoke to them - whether it be 1 or 5 or 30. How often are you given permission to take away a bit of an exhibition? Lifting that first page off the pegs felt a bit like stealing, but by the 5th page it felt right. I admit to taking more than 5...haven't counted them to find the total. I did purchase the whole collection from the gift shop and plan to read one a day when the rhythm of life allows time for being in the studio everyday.

 
Hanging quietly and unobtrusively above the rows of collected text were quilts. My memory is that the docent said the quilts belong to Ann Hamilton, but by then my creative mind was whirling so I cannot be sure that my memory is correct.


While pondering a just read quote, I happened to look up and into the quilt hanging above.


There were landscapes - cityscapes,


long stretches of flat land that eased into small rises,


mountains reflected in still lakes,



waves.


I'd love to be able to ask Ann Hamilton if leaving the fold lines in had been on purpose. Had she realized what one would be treated to if one only looked up while standing before the pages of text? Does her brain work that far ahead? I believe it does.


Too awed by the simplicity of these winding spools/wheels, my ears weren't listening as the docent talked about them.


My brain was elsewhere,


pondering...

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