tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53582594572902220762024-03-24T17:21:14.154-04:00modernist aesthetica collection of art and textiles that inspire me and that seem connected by simplicity and timelessnessJudy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-37702466864980492022024-03-23T15:34:00.015-04:002024-03-24T17:20:42.522-04:00Ann Clarke: a life in motion <p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROF9kom2j2auQf_CyOZk8AIaWk9ACyexBAtdqIlod_eHvVmJ1vTTQ-KGlcE_F44q2LXX9Mi3RR5bGUx1ZygocSIs3kVnnxdW3AMUfq5_HSoZXe77ovOPPCOJnlZRs_Rt423foe47fyyB0ICxTPaRRQkiL6VqmdZ8clNGHeXLPuhz3vk7aNbHfjGTvryO9/s2805/ann-clark-10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2805" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROF9kom2j2auQf_CyOZk8AIaWk9ACyexBAtdqIlod_eHvVmJ1vTTQ-KGlcE_F44q2LXX9Mi3RR5bGUx1ZygocSIs3kVnnxdW3AMUfq5_HSoZXe77ovOPPCOJnlZRs_Rt423foe47fyyB0ICxTPaRRQkiL6VqmdZ8clNGHeXLPuhz3vk7aNbHfjGTvryO9/w342-h640/ann-clark-10.jpg" width="342" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Untitled (Vertical Stripes) acrylic on canvas, 1974 by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Ann Clarke was born in England and attended the Slade School of Art in London UK. She graduated in 1966 and was awarded the prestigious Slade Painting Prize. In December 1966, her work was included in the exhibition <i>Five Young Artists</i> at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, London, England.<p></p><p>In 1968, Ann Clarke moved to Edmonton, Alberta Canada with her then husband and two young boys. </p><p>In 1973 she had a solo exhibition 'Ann Clarke' at the Edmonton Art Gallery. Her studio for a period of time was in the municipal airport hanger.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSkiKpCB53gQUN6poVtF0KcIfkGkQPvBWnYJjGTBjtqZ9Nd4smOqKBjQ_Z2z5CESJNb0LUEF-ErI41noA2-AELpmab-7GL7YX-2lYOWd83J7UtXowBIn6LbdoE363rUfkNmFDTHmT4iF0XbjiykSonoX8h9Z-HNuzXVBC6Lys0lc3ZbrT6Wt2IEUdn3_C/s1542/ann-clark-8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1542" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSkiKpCB53gQUN6poVtF0KcIfkGkQPvBWnYJjGTBjtqZ9Nd4smOqKBjQ_Z2z5CESJNb0LUEF-ErI41noA2-AELpmab-7GL7YX-2lYOWd83J7UtXowBIn6LbdoE363rUfkNmFDTHmT4iF0XbjiykSonoX8h9Z-HNuzXVBC6Lys0lc3ZbrT6Wt2IEUdn3_C/w389-h400/ann-clark-8.jpg" width="389" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">glimpsed in the waves, acrylic on canvas, 1978, Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">During the 70's and 80's, Clarke began to teach painting in various colleges and universities across Canada. In 1975-76, she taught at NSCAD (Nova Scotia College of Art and Design), and in 1979 - 80, she taught at Red Deer College in Alberta. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She had several solo shows in Alberta during this period. In 1980 she had a solo exhibition in Gallery One in Toronto. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeUUxYO9WgmObgSDhgcyZV89WNpZeV5bAP_4GjouHDs3RaUIdMvS5EQUsYafmj_cXkExHPYrYmEg_zfKdLn-eKcrHC2pMEKa6Mkg2zC5CQug4Mz_RFwg5VKBiyUTgXFXQWhk1toTSDjyQ55ySku-QF2MvmfCJ-f2UYsCArecKEn5uluiinvsXYACm-Bja/s1770/ann-clark-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1770" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeUUxYO9WgmObgSDhgcyZV89WNpZeV5bAP_4GjouHDs3RaUIdMvS5EQUsYafmj_cXkExHPYrYmEg_zfKdLn-eKcrHC2pMEKa6Mkg2zC5CQug4Mz_RFwg5VKBiyUTgXFXQWhk1toTSDjyQ55ySku-QF2MvmfCJ-f2UYsCArecKEn5uluiinvsXYACm-Bja/w339-h400/ann-clark-6.jpg" width="339" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inclement, Acrylic and Oil Stick on Canvas. 1980 by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> Ann Clarke's painting, Inclement, was curated into a tribute exhibition for the Canadian painter, Jack Bush, by Ken Carpenter. It took place in 1981 at the Robert McLaughlin Gallery in Oshawa, Ontario. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Clarke moved to Toronto in 1984.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPguPwjb-fZjyVVdoaapRek1jQEwnJ8aV5Bs71BVbeFwG5W7DNVA7rjoufzs7tL33hD_O6p6r2IyzJJhEZZ3PiUcB0JH3NHL99zoKtCwbo_ORestKfqhkzdZnILuKFuOzD5E_v6leks-R2OJl0Jhwnt6uyU0r2ev69Z8HGFMEHmf8FXrbE3nceKU4MIMc/s1628/ann-clark-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1628" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPguPwjb-fZjyVVdoaapRek1jQEwnJ8aV5Bs71BVbeFwG5W7DNVA7rjoufzs7tL33hD_O6p6r2IyzJJhEZZ3PiUcB0JH3NHL99zoKtCwbo_ORestKfqhkzdZnILuKFuOzD5E_v6leks-R2OJl0Jhwnt6uyU0r2ev69Z8HGFMEHmf8FXrbE3nceKU4MIMc/w369-h400/ann-clark-5.jpg" width="369" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fantasy, Acrylic on Canvas, 1985, by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja54xcO_rxACpAXn8g5hg8be5A07oMpzK_1sP2ETFQXyk6HUy1Eh_F9Rp9-zEHNwEXrIOoiqxv8IRdWHVWUUZYYZqmSBZFI4fid2NEIECASP_GdX28qANuwCXkA7dDT-xCudy1BkSetw-4ibJblFgPEINm19Dn9_fIoGKRqnlt24pmjntVa5UnZwCUYwVa/s2000/ann-clark-3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja54xcO_rxACpAXn8g5hg8be5A07oMpzK_1sP2ETFQXyk6HUy1Eh_F9Rp9-zEHNwEXrIOoiqxv8IRdWHVWUUZYYZqmSBZFI4fid2NEIECASP_GdX28qANuwCXkA7dDT-xCudy1BkSetw-4ibJblFgPEINm19Dn9_fIoGKRqnlt24pmjntVa5UnZwCUYwVa/w300-h400/ann-clark-3.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">detail of Fantasy, 1985, by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Then in 1987, Clarke moved to Tamworth, north of Kingston. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdoJd0F8zlN4rmC2HKXHJgiwUxfaFT_5-rDMkHLY-vrxuUax5wqSkfXv6Pq9jcAXb_jsoRg3yjdV7qX2G7ToV74-Xhzl0J3rIsN-yIM-T7hnv8UI__2rEjsfoYzxnl_bKOps0Z_RGsXU2OHkgw_9dFYQPaVQbPfK54fCFnGk_N3uF9Z-2WcD_1mqIaYHg/s1500/ann-clark-4-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1420" data-original-width="1500" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdoJd0F8zlN4rmC2HKXHJgiwUxfaFT_5-rDMkHLY-vrxuUax5wqSkfXv6Pq9jcAXb_jsoRg3yjdV7qX2G7ToV74-Xhzl0J3rIsN-yIM-T7hnv8UI__2rEjsfoYzxnl_bKOps0Z_RGsXU2OHkgw_9dFYQPaVQbPfK54fCFnGk_N3uF9Z-2WcD_1mqIaYHg/w400-h379/ann-clark-4-judy-martin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaping Deer Acrylic on Canvas, 1988 by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Inspired by a dream, Leaping Deer is a self portrait. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhlSWDyFOEO7b4i7VBuG-J06p9a3LT-IrROO5-LLJ3rBRkHs7gailGlOA-11piw0hRi13MhTC92dCjMkPPRz4F5oTAzPGr1ke7GYMwrHp3mo1VS0azqNNbAX9JsiqvqwOPCXRqsetA3etNx3MAbE0EE-YoBTbFENSA6R2D2K82jmYuecqr16mrKRxGkwI/s1918/ann-clarke-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1918" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhlSWDyFOEO7b4i7VBuG-J06p9a3LT-IrROO5-LLJ3rBRkHs7gailGlOA-11piw0hRi13MhTC92dCjMkPPRz4F5oTAzPGr1ke7GYMwrHp3mo1VS0azqNNbAX9JsiqvqwOPCXRqsetA3etNx3MAbE0EE-YoBTbFENSA6R2D2K82jmYuecqr16mrKRxGkwI/w313-h400/ann-clarke-2.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaping Deer, detail</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;">In 1988 - 89, Dorothy Farr curated a solo exhibition at the Agnes Etherington Art Gallery in Kingston that included Leaping Deer. <i>Ann Clarke: Recent Work</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In 1992, Ann Clarke was invited to teach in the department of Visual Arts at Lakehead University, Thunder Bay, Ontario. She was elected to the Royal Canadian Academy of Art in 2008, and retired from teaching in 2009. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIOleoaDttX1lOFa80BQGTfC7dAjKYKJDu2VC24tWI8QX43r6NNiqsxuGk3-UfPIFK_c6iojCZijyVfO9PehgekXHQJhjYOMmh2QZg8NTQGmuw8xBvQSyoLoTwfqfa5-cNCfQYDu-jp8ei4XXiUxwv3OZeOgU7HNhU9A9irqNqZ858DnIrMvPO1GfLAgA6/s1500/ann-clarke.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1430" data-original-width="1500" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIOleoaDttX1lOFa80BQGTfC7dAjKYKJDu2VC24tWI8QX43r6NNiqsxuGk3-UfPIFK_c6iojCZijyVfO9PehgekXHQJhjYOMmh2QZg8NTQGmuw8xBvQSyoLoTwfqfa5-cNCfQYDu-jp8ei4XXiUxwv3OZeOgU7HNhU9A9irqNqZ858DnIrMvPO1GfLAgA6/w400-h381/ann-clarke.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time, acrylic on canvas, 2000, by Ann Clarke</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: left;">TIME, (above) was included in her 2000 solo exhibition, <i>Sexta Feira,</i> at Gallery One in Toronto. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.annclarke.ca/" target="_blank">Ann Clarke</a> has a website that includes recent work and also archives of her long career in painting. Twelve artist statements reflect her commitment to continual change and growth. Visit her website with <a href="http://www.annclarke.ca/" target="_blank">this link</a>. Her work is represented by the <a href="https://hatchgallerypec.com/collections/ann-clarke" target="_blank">Hatch Gallery </a> in Prince Edward County, Ontario, Canada. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">All images in this post are from the 6-decade retrospective <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/exhibition/ann-clarke/" target="_blank"><i>Ann Clarke: A Life In Motion</i> </a> currently on display in Kingston at the Agnes Etherington. The exhibit was curated by Alicia Boutilier and Mark Birksted. The text is taken from the wall signage. Congratulations Ann Clarke!!! </div></div><p></p>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-8910226280341388122024-03-15T18:58:00.012-04:002024-03-15T20:04:21.220-04:00Vija Celmins<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_k4lGoDsqnTrITscnNvUHDwEOsrBBwQvITypRZbpZQj9FmFogWct3P71jOGyFVCcM53DlEGFP4jFlco9NP_qvLoboIIXKza8xfVpO-0YpfSGif5PcdlJZj-2ZuvPR5KyfRLNMjYqA0JQZWl1HXz8PVUsZIcBwF-E972-3cTtopdWUhIC2cDsC_UhyG6gF/s1024/1-19-vija-celmins-at-met-%20star%20field%20III%20graphite%20drawing%20on%20acrylic%20ground%20on%20paper.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_k4lGoDsqnTrITscnNvUHDwEOsrBBwQvITypRZbpZQj9FmFogWct3P71jOGyFVCcM53DlEGFP4jFlco9NP_qvLoboIIXKza8xfVpO-0YpfSGif5PcdlJZj-2ZuvPR5KyfRLNMjYqA0JQZWl1HXz8PVUsZIcBwF-E972-3cTtopdWUhIC2cDsC_UhyG6gF/w400-h300/1-19-vija-celmins-at-met-%20star%20field%20III%20graphite%20drawing%20on%20acrylic%20ground%20on%20paper.webp" width="400" /></a></div> <i>My work is not meticulous, it is rigorous. </i><p><i>It's like living another life. As if you have a time here, with the work, and then you have a world in which you are living your other time.</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqEmGbYmSPWhFpsVXDdEkxC3bsQBGwITcOSTPicWdQiw0I2qAgZwYTiePhJOAFgpRs0BMocfeCLIX9rKmn6bYCe5hJtJe-ww7zQSKZUYLXD0EJuYM-XSghC1gdy9Uypi4dm14SiMiQdahkDR3alc9_5zb71e4vBDSrnWhrPr7qADUH0r0nGUrvG1KgtyI/s1200/celmins%20slideshow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqEmGbYmSPWhFpsVXDdEkxC3bsQBGwITcOSTPicWdQiw0I2qAgZwYTiePhJOAFgpRs0BMocfeCLIX9rKmn6bYCe5hJtJe-ww7zQSKZUYLXD0EJuYM-XSghC1gdy9Uypi4dm14SiMiQdahkDR3alc9_5zb71e4vBDSrnWhrPr7qADUH0r0nGUrvG1KgtyI/w400-h266/celmins%20slideshow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><i>Why do it? The older I get, the more mysterious that seems. </i></p><p><i>It's some kind of impulse inside you, and when you are working well there is a feeling of connectedness to the world, and occasional feelings of bliss.</i></p><p><i>It occurred to me that when I am really working well, the work has no meaning You can work with less mind. You see with your mind, not your eyes, because eyes are just the lenses. But you only see what you already know, so maybe this is why I focus on something outside of me, that I don't really know You might say it's copying , but it's re-imagining this thing in another medium. </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRr7qxuM7c-Q1jY3lsao57mmXURd_roWbjpiW4huk9fq43YBBXsUBa1hltdKw_vlfcT6lL6JUql_vzqF2XJr7Ydg4GLrk8_p1i7bbqJrwkWItyJy8B_ZRZqFsMTlR4mftrevWPeCO1F1JRVhYZseq-DzZfY5Ij8BHhMPkBlQ0xXintj_EcpXL2O8elV8c/s1045/vija-celmins-desert-lithograph-1971.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1045" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRr7qxuM7c-Q1jY3lsao57mmXURd_roWbjpiW4huk9fq43YBBXsUBa1hltdKw_vlfcT6lL6JUql_vzqF2XJr7Ydg4GLrk8_p1i7bbqJrwkWItyJy8B_ZRZqFsMTlR4mftrevWPeCO1F1JRVhYZseq-DzZfY5Ij8BHhMPkBlQ0xXintj_EcpXL2O8elV8c/w400-h306/vija-celmins-desert-lithograph-1971.webp" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><i>I thought I could fool my clever mind because it limited me. I thought I could get to a sense of form that was more in my body - or my hand - and that comes from just making. </i></p><p><i>I want to get in touch with something more mindless, more intuitive. I'm not clear about the meaning. Maybe its the spectator who puts the meaning in. </i></p><p><i>I don't work from experiences that are fresh. I tend to repeat things. I've carried thoughts around in my head for months. I have a feeling about a form that I want and I want the feeling to develop as far as it can go, and I want my work to be able to stand a lot of inspection.</i></p><p><i>The things I draw are formless, hard to grasp. Like the ocean. Like the sky. It's as if the ocean is like a ghost somewhere and what is in front of you is the real thing.</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWKeESMG7-Ny2n-syWc7JQi8tqvnl_Z4kcJusFheRgmiUpZYaLaZtP8IxRQz-XH3pzrKRh_qdjcuvRc8WTXJs33NW0YtnHHyJ_QtLShD4XKwBynjqKUeeWCfemVyaAz16NIjYgWHNckDdFmoj-d0cc2hCgn-MD54Q-5nhS8N8zvGjKUA-6YNDd6L3a5f-/s480/VijaCelmins_%201971%20big%20sea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdWKeESMG7-Ny2n-syWc7JQi8tqvnl_Z4kcJusFheRgmiUpZYaLaZtP8IxRQz-XH3pzrKRh_qdjcuvRc8WTXJs33NW0YtnHHyJ_QtLShD4XKwBynjqKUeeWCfemVyaAz16NIjYgWHNckDdFmoj-d0cc2hCgn-MD54Q-5nhS8N8zvGjKUA-6YNDd6L3a5f-/w400-h400/VijaCelmins_%201971%20big%20sea.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><i>I have no technique. I gave it up as well as other obvious signs of self-expression. </i></p><p><i>I never thought to call my work a pleasure. I just felt the compulsion to do it.</i></p><p><i>They are visual chords. They are dense, materially oriented images. They don't really tell stories.</i></p><p><i>My feeling is that when you are not using your brain, you are not necessarily being stupid. It's just that you're in touch with some other things in yourself. Then they become brainy. . Because look how we talk about the art afterwards. We can talk about these pieces in an intelligent way even though the work itself is ..... what is the work like? I don't know.. I don't know what the work is like.</i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFb9Awuy4QiGgRWL179MjXc2wYbisZeQwQ44xV6sIMXOCwt1HscVSdG4cEmk2SZnZwLa8-XEh6zh6hCG72YP78q8dNi_69Fac6fGPH4Ti-b9o3svTeMbQM8aHIztl644IAkMYFc6fYKOGCd2Dd23xryz8rXfMFYAmcB-aZvNJoHxGFONLgUzpLPQvTRzJ/s1056/vija-celmins-sky-lithograph-1975.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1056" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFb9Awuy4QiGgRWL179MjXc2wYbisZeQwQ44xV6sIMXOCwt1HscVSdG4cEmk2SZnZwLa8-XEh6zh6hCG72YP78q8dNi_69Fac6fGPH4Ti-b9o3svTeMbQM8aHIztl644IAkMYFc6fYKOGCd2Dd23xryz8rXfMFYAmcB-aZvNJoHxGFONLgUzpLPQvTRzJ/w400-h303/vija-celmins-sky-lithograph-1975.webp" width="400" /></a></div><p><i>In a way, I am building a self. It's not really self-portraiture. Rather, it's being able to get something out of yourself that has a life on its own. That's step one. And you recognize that it is step one and you're going to take another step. You're going to try something else.</i></p><p><i>I found I had a tender touch. I got more interested in projecting the spatial qualities. I started doing darker things, like New Mexico night skies. I started making the star field paintings.</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0UJ4kS61inkMrNiwz7bYPSHLbhy7wJdE58pgiCgsPPBlNRQYqWcgDqNAjeMveWGSaJG-pYUtcXUa1qZETT916iWofn7h3r97Nd7VF_3XElPIN2Qeqkt_yx7dEu0ItaTOcMNf89iqOnsgaxbamn_ZoM5Fge9MVT3ZZoRvJ8MhYB-pMTWdTHvl7TursSyf/s919/vija-celmins-night-sky-%2018%201998.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="919" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS0UJ4kS61inkMrNiwz7bYPSHLbhy7wJdE58pgiCgsPPBlNRQYqWcgDqNAjeMveWGSaJG-pYUtcXUa1qZETT916iWofn7h3r97Nd7VF_3XElPIN2Qeqkt_yx7dEu0ItaTOcMNf89iqOnsgaxbamn_ZoM5Fge9MVT3ZZoRvJ8MhYB-pMTWdTHvl7TursSyf/w400-h349/vija-celmins-night-sky-%2018%201998.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i>The image itself has 2 or 3 qualities that you grasp at one time: a flatness, an illusionary depth, and a MADE quality. How it's made is the thing that I think engages you in looking at my work.</i><p></p><p><i>But the process of making isn't an invocation of darkness. And the making is not just busy work. I like to leave subtle traces of the making and of the thinking, bypassing the brain but still leave signs of intelligence. </i></p><p><i>I'm highly self-critical. I'm critical of others too.</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_wDyDwH9sItzLAFy0vCHSGv_EJyK-TAy6rXqc38KKj3rwIh27_wLiE_kKYGpXHXA-M22gZY9UFXHzUaQugwsBbv5d0quNkDZ7zcHHGtk_5ti96cLr5ML-W0Djdm2PgGR76tauWEVxi8-9cKfRbsXdiRSp9icO9ckB_s5R3PbZcM9aTjqSmKOO0uOdmCl/s960/web-3-vija-celmins-photorealism-painting-%202002.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="960" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_wDyDwH9sItzLAFy0vCHSGv_EJyK-TAy6rXqc38KKj3rwIh27_wLiE_kKYGpXHXA-M22gZY9UFXHzUaQugwsBbv5d0quNkDZ7zcHHGtk_5ti96cLr5ML-W0Djdm2PgGR76tauWEVxi8-9cKfRbsXdiRSp9icO9ckB_s5R3PbZcM9aTjqSmKOO0uOdmCl/w400-h334/web-3-vija-celmins-photorealism-painting-%202002.webp" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><i>I want to work larger so that you can roam around I'm finding it difficult to concentrate and make work that is so concentrated. I'd like to make work that's a little more emotional. I'm interested in a more ambiguous, more abstract space. I may make some dimensional objects now.</i></p><p><i>I'm an outsider. there is an outsider quality to everything I do. Vija Celmins 2003 </i></p><p>Vija Celmins was born in Latvia in 1938 and immigrated to the USA when she was ten years old. </p><p>There are many videos of her and her work on youtube. </p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUuRPODxi7w" target="_blank">video about the surface of the ocean and the desert</a>.</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj9j_JOZIkE" target="_blank">video of how she makes prints of the night sky</a></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsbkzSrCdIg" target="_blank">video of her speaking and shows her working</a></p><p>Vija Celmins was interviewed by Robert Enright for Border Crossings magazine in 2003 and her words were paraphrased by Judy Martin in 2024. You can read the original in <a href="https://simplecirc.com/border-crossings/item/4570/volume-22-no-3" target="_blank">border crossing magazine #87</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3QLYbiNFBgN-ttCkSXUoN56RExS86acytEYLNCdpARfZqjEyfzQpLShhi3l4B4FUfuM0xteNTvwi2z3zxTrLlIFIhm7YsZ0u-tgxShd2NWkZoMqDMQkMH8JaLDj244VHBODKGQUbPue1_2VrPBk7nzAPb28DqSHipPcAxbQMIp84zPtCiB7BLTzAPVvA/s1500/vija-celmins.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1046" data-original-width="1500" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3QLYbiNFBgN-ttCkSXUoN56RExS86acytEYLNCdpARfZqjEyfzQpLShhi3l4B4FUfuM0xteNTvwi2z3zxTrLlIFIhm7YsZ0u-tgxShd2NWkZoMqDMQkMH8JaLDj244VHBODKGQUbPue1_2VrPBk7nzAPb28DqSHipPcAxbQMIp84zPtCiB7BLTzAPVvA/w400-h279/vija-celmins.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-4497430306693602302024-02-06T08:36:00.017-05:002024-02-06T08:58:08.647-05:00Louise Bourgeois : The Woven Child<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbd43NjLgaOhdhkXX2AC7SLQFlq7Llmi1kcfHJvdZy4jC0b-N7DAlToTbAUVdTJLoYFOJQLi9OEggnFmRLfAzy5GVc_ySH0kvfg_kMlfCKRFKRNrxrmWsGF7Gu0_RDnIgMsoJ3duLKi-h2OJ8b24pcebLYspDzofNJYim7iejXygMpg3MRFkc9Qk2_PrF/s1500/louise-bourgeois-10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1500" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbd43NjLgaOhdhkXX2AC7SLQFlq7Llmi1kcfHJvdZy4jC0b-N7DAlToTbAUVdTJLoYFOJQLi9OEggnFmRLfAzy5GVc_ySH0kvfg_kMlfCKRFKRNrxrmWsGF7Gu0_RDnIgMsoJ3duLKi-h2OJ8b24pcebLYspDzofNJYim7iejXygMpg3MRFkc9Qk2_PrF/w400-h306/louise-bourgeois-10.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the found child 2004</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Classical statues made of permanent materials awaken our feelings of mortality as we realize they will outlive us. <div><br /></div><div>A sculpture made from soft, perishable textiles, evokes the body's vulnerability much more directly, arousing our latent awareness that we are all essentially sacks of skin hung around a structure of bones and stuffed with blood and organs. <div>Ralph Rugoff (director of the Hayward Gallery in London, England) <div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05ZGQJ8__8k5Q3NwwOnPLrO3fZumSOVppLytjzYgTKz35OspdJ-Hm9cP_49ReG_6vL3ffPThWGS2yHUWeW6x8OYFZOUKj8sFeF58VLfsMsXjajAWMx0WexZpy2_cTixDdoGBcvauj_A8dI68RYucLB7KBQN9s-d80N-23qIaUZ3mUOWZ5TKwewK3THK0y/s2204/louise-bourgeois-11.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2204" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05ZGQJ8__8k5Q3NwwOnPLrO3fZumSOVppLytjzYgTKz35OspdJ-Hm9cP_49ReG_6vL3ffPThWGS2yHUWeW6x8OYFZOUKj8sFeF58VLfsMsXjajAWMx0WexZpy2_cTixDdoGBcvauj_A8dI68RYucLB7KBQN9s-d80N-23qIaUZ3mUOWZ5TKwewK3THK0y/w436-h640/louise-bourgeois-11.jpg" width="436" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled 1999</td></tr></tbody></table><br />For Bourgeois, sewing goes beyond restoration. Instead, it is a metaphor for psychological repair and for exploring the complexity of human relationships. </div><div><br /></div><div>In her artworks, repairs become conspicuous scars. Sewing is a subtle form of communication and atonement. The gesture and labour involved evokes complex feelings in another person. Sewing, the act of reparation, was a defence against fragmentation and disintegration. </div><div><span> </span>Julienne Lorz, chief curator 2018-2021. Gropius Bau, Berlin. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5pb_5szmBNr2H8yrCHdiPo8qZjVR7Xuya5umOqsPLNhWihn_xmtVbA0phPTaTZhQoM8tscALxyQbJhdjenLyiJWSTqeWFhmx9T5E8p_A5-O6mJTfQjavGpc7x3PTTrrHhXiBvcrPJ9wUWqLJVE7QIxsugliYyTIhaQjpGPDjUh9JDF6fjQvB0Ij6Y_6A/s1500/louise-bourgeois-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1240" data-original-width="1500" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5pb_5szmBNr2H8yrCHdiPo8qZjVR7Xuya5umOqsPLNhWihn_xmtVbA0phPTaTZhQoM8tscALxyQbJhdjenLyiJWSTqeWFhmx9T5E8p_A5-O6mJTfQjavGpc7x3PTTrrHhXiBvcrPJ9wUWqLJVE7QIxsugliYyTIhaQjpGPDjUh9JDF6fjQvB0Ij6Y_6A/w400-h331/louise-bourgeois-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">couple IV 1997</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Louise Bourgeois makes her passage through the intimate terrain of private and chaotic experience without being destabilized by its violent emotion. Her triumph lies in the retaining of artistic objectivity in the face of the most fiercely subjective materials.</div><div>Rachel Cusk, novelist</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJB-RvyaYgDgMa1hOv9nGpZ5m_8nJIgAClB2UN6-lW6xXmwBXoHHPBUy-kvlmMtS0eglO_bg-8jVHKThqSQRZiOKnFUgDSdL0ed3Bcm58qDwhKackbmVZecvP8lBzl6g8OIFqIZwbnIIu8JnhPeBv8M1yWzl2qrCTDolzdH5hcqKNDvZ4CEnEZHDPCaHO/s1727/louise-bourgeois-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1727" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJB-RvyaYgDgMa1hOv9nGpZ5m_8nJIgAClB2UN6-lW6xXmwBXoHHPBUy-kvlmMtS0eglO_bg-8jVHKThqSQRZiOKnFUgDSdL0ed3Bcm58qDwhKackbmVZecvP8lBzl6g8OIFqIZwbnIIu8JnhPeBv8M1yWzl2qrCTDolzdH5hcqKNDvZ4CEnEZHDPCaHO/w370-h640/louise-bourgeois-6.jpg" width="370" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled 2001</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Bourgeois renews her allegiance to the truth of her female history and its origins in her child self. Size, scale, and the monumental can be arrived at, stitched together, organically built up, as in her series of tall fabric pillar shapes, both assertive and resolutely handmade. </div><div>Rachel Cusk, author of several works of fiction and non fiction</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgmQmVyxZ5wR57Mgq0YFsWm0R6oj40vHXdC3_84W5XMeWhe2mp6iGXnU67Ey1m_6Z4Ro_hPbntRSLbKV7O8Udk9a6OSDdzjyVq67nnq6_b6PZn6WnZDGl1fzhb9nGK7q5z4q4npQCYJAJpJcUFliHcd-9KdkyhoawT6UZmY3jm5T7QZRrESI9k4xnJCBf/s2740/louise-bourgeois-8.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2740" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgmQmVyxZ5wR57Mgq0YFsWm0R6oj40vHXdC3_84W5XMeWhe2mp6iGXnU67Ey1m_6Z4Ro_hPbntRSLbKV7O8Udk9a6OSDdzjyVq67nnq6_b6PZn6WnZDGl1fzhb9nGK7q5z4q4npQCYJAJpJcUFliHcd-9KdkyhoawT6UZmY3jm5T7QZRrESI9k4xnJCBf/w350-h640/louise-bourgeois-8.jpg" width="350" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the cold of anxiety 2001</td></tr></tbody></table><br />"I cannot renounce the past. I cannot and do not want to forget it." Louise Bourgeois</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEFBuPKqnwMyL3ipFP_0c_I_S224F34A5Xc_d3JanHvhtBiE3DRhu7RJ5yymj5XY3CbWrgsgYNPXFJ-nGnDfsykaDU9rcQae-bOjnEy8H-jqneCnZZSqp4towJOYhgH5IjQ-hLwdBY797gU5NASdgN9K4nETHL_K5jhdmyxqw0AM4xOK3jmRdB2WsIfH9/s1609/louise-bourgeois-7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1609" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEFBuPKqnwMyL3ipFP_0c_I_S224F34A5Xc_d3JanHvhtBiE3DRhu7RJ5yymj5XY3CbWrgsgYNPXFJ-nGnDfsykaDU9rcQae-bOjnEy8H-jqneCnZZSqp4towJOYhgH5IjQ-hLwdBY797gU5NASdgN9K4nETHL_K5jhdmyxqw0AM4xOK3jmRdB2WsIfH9/w299-h400/louise-bourgeois-7.jpg" width="299" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the cold of anxiety detail, 2001</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9nRQl7t543cza2ZEcB8WdDgqXe0kGaqXUC5O-SaKbU2ahPQTEU8fDcJ399dq8LxQfUPrXG_bzOcGNuFaMA880h81sU9nq1INEZLsYiYvYoZkzENJhNrm6DRgrA_XXvKndp_DhfFATx8bnejIuKOG1sLXcilMRyL_5WMDKx-be4OA_ag6gbXipWy5HwAk/s1500/louise-bourgeois-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="1500" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9nRQl7t543cza2ZEcB8WdDgqXe0kGaqXUC5O-SaKbU2ahPQTEU8fDcJ399dq8LxQfUPrXG_bzOcGNuFaMA880h81sU9nq1INEZLsYiYvYoZkzENJhNrm6DRgrA_XXvKndp_DhfFATx8bnejIuKOG1sLXcilMRyL_5WMDKx-be4OA_ag6gbXipWy5HwAk/w400-h314/louise-bourgeois-5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled 2005</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I would like to embroider and put everything in place and in a proper and predictable manner. To simplify, reduce, organize, round up and retire after being sure of the method. </div><div>Drawn in and concentric I would like to be. Louise Bourgeois</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE6kltLvkNeP97NsC91ObdesS-kCIF8FA0q4CDp03zIIIOjfJPviVgHfZuzzvsclX0r53omEeh2xQH6uEDszO-S9s7Xbu6Ll-9XLkgZEourFYaWki4iwOfHEGZdAUMDMVKElK6Mq090Y61C5unZ3SRQw5_jcnqHh9ObDgSeYpMhtfnKPs6YS_mU_buWrB/s1500/louise-bourgeois-4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1309" data-original-width="1500" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE6kltLvkNeP97NsC91ObdesS-kCIF8FA0q4CDp03zIIIOjfJPviVgHfZuzzvsclX0r53omEeh2xQH6uEDszO-S9s7Xbu6Ll-9XLkgZEourFYaWki4iwOfHEGZdAUMDMVKElK6Mq090Y61C5unZ3SRQw5_jcnqHh9ObDgSeYpMhtfnKPs6YS_mU_buWrB/w400-h349/louise-bourgeois-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled, 2006</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Sewing implies repairing. </div><div>When you mend things, it allows you to have your hands occupied. To look intensely and never meet the eyes of other people. You can even be moral about it. </div><div>You can appear to do things for others.</div><div>You can say, "I am repairing your clothes." Louise Bourgeois</div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwL_gJK9VdR-TszeqMPZIoHQamVdseMwILsN8EOVTq8ByKB_UtioZzmJxiz13kU0kZpUIR2xwItbFCyK7fjzqvuw64SF5Ld64TljfuQPpdjawHHmfLKeNQhTvJxusE-EqhMdxx5xCZNQCBZYtJmoRtqrUELI-6SJqqGLndKSyzR03EpkG6_8jM9Kd4hdg/s2299/louise-bourgeois-3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2299" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwL_gJK9VdR-TszeqMPZIoHQamVdseMwILsN8EOVTq8ByKB_UtioZzmJxiz13kU0kZpUIR2xwItbFCyK7fjzqvuw64SF5Ld64TljfuQPpdjawHHmfLKeNQhTvJxusE-EqhMdxx5xCZNQCBZYtJmoRtqrUELI-6SJqqGLndKSyzR03EpkG6_8jM9Kd4hdg/w261-h400/louise-bourgeois-3.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled, 2002</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My subject is the rawness of the emotions, the devastating effect of the emotions you go through. Louise Bourgeois</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM1TBR2LzAt74Cry2TP0kpmSr4dNXGdAtdfiF2NfJQrlxuy53j0aGVyfEqsKgoc6Ob1Y5-33OqWffFP98V5E5Nx68EeZHUNngQG7XuKw4dAuPdHNQPqFS-T2Y5YQg4xEdCrhkSVD9rqUMcvpfKbdsPyGY_QNxaKIFblnqxRpQLP80EI0TgeCfFfntm_jeT/s1568/louise-bourgeois-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1568" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM1TBR2LzAt74Cry2TP0kpmSr4dNXGdAtdfiF2NfJQrlxuy53j0aGVyfEqsKgoc6Ob1Y5-33OqWffFP98V5E5Nx68EeZHUNngQG7XuKw4dAuPdHNQPqFS-T2Y5YQg4xEdCrhkSVD9rqUMcvpfKbdsPyGY_QNxaKIFblnqxRpQLP80EI0TgeCfFfntm_jeT/w408-h640/louise-bourgeois-1.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled, 2004</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Bourgeois' sculptures, at once baroque and schematic, subvert any possible association with platonic completeness. Female forms simultaneously subvert and implicate a voyeuristic gaze. At the same time, through its use of materials that we are accustomed to feeling against our skin, a dimension of haptic sensation and tactile association is opened up, beyond purely visual engagement. </div><div>Ralph Rugoff (director of the Venice Biennale 2019)</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFGYxNVuCkj2h34udnu5LQjlxu5K6oY6WWH9GINyu2KZ8Uj0a3Rk4Hbgiqk9gS-Bb5jv1_6umUFey7oLRL7a_5Cgc5vXiSQGMnMJHt3Jv-JBPxzYCEsh1anmwylf7D0iWn-KQDnPZEoRVcm8fzqp3kr6A1g8AKY3_-aJ0_5ASX8voDH3-7C_Y_8fMmzA7/s1880/louise-bourgeois-9.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1880" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFGYxNVuCkj2h34udnu5LQjlxu5K6oY6WWH9GINyu2KZ8Uj0a3Rk4Hbgiqk9gS-Bb5jv1_6umUFey7oLRL7a_5Cgc5vXiSQGMnMJHt3Jv-JBPxzYCEsh1anmwylf7D0iWn-KQDnPZEoRVcm8fzqp3kr6A1g8AKY3_-aJ0_5ASX8voDH3-7C_Y_8fMmzA7/w319-h400/louise-bourgeois-9.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the mute, 2002</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div>This final body of work counts as one of the greatest late-career chapters in the history of art. A body of work in which lifelong concerns of Bourgeois: destabilising of boundaries, ambiguous sexuality, and a sliding register of meaning / identity, are revisited in profoundly enlivening ways. Ralph Rugoff </div><div> <p></p></div></div></div><div>All images and text in this post are from the catalogue that documented <i>Louise Bourgeois: The Woven Child, </i> an exhibition that was presented at the Hayward Gallery, London England and Gropius Bau, Berlin, Germany in 2022. All the works in the exhibition were made from LB's personal saved clothing and domestic textiles when the artist was in her 80's and 90's. (Bourgeois died age 99 in 2010.)</div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-62391153737084804802023-04-23T03:55:00.017-04:002023-04-26T06:22:35.357-04:00Magdalena Abakanowicz, the Abakans<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEEBkIJyuIGSVk1Q4dW1-dvS-y_QH1Wg0p4aMVZ0EoSyv2V4T-J4LM46lY1FCbvyCbARHVZBJgWxCSFF3CHRtYrvBbDyeFsGkIlz1d1L1_w3xtdwer9u7xVP6ZOtBANqB6E3A1F-_TArmdQ1_kwVq1y24N2ceqVZ-kUwD5khISz0uSc7mz3oUPzBMLRg/s1593/magdalena-7-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEEBkIJyuIGSVk1Q4dW1-dvS-y_QH1Wg0p4aMVZ0EoSyv2V4T-J4LM46lY1FCbvyCbARHVZBJgWxCSFF3CHRtYrvBbDyeFsGkIlz1d1L1_w3xtdwer9u7xVP6ZOtBANqB6E3A1F-_TArmdQ1_kwVq1y24N2ceqVZ-kUwD5khISz0uSc7mz3oUPzBMLRg/w376-h400/magdalena-7-judy-martin.jpg" width="376" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Ball 1975, Sisal, 140 x 110 x 100 cm <br />and Abakan Red 1969, Sisal 405 x 382 x 400 cm<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Polish artist, Magdalena Abakanowicz (1930-2017), created and displayed monumental woven textile sculptures in site specific environments so that people could move around in as if in a forest of large cloaked figures. </p><p></p><p>The sculptures were named Abakans, after the artist's own name. </p><p>Created in the late 1960's and early 70's, they remain hugely influential. They show how soft objects can have great expressive power. When we move through them, there is a feeling of breath and touch, of fertility and decay, of connection between humanity and all living things, animal or plant. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErd3DmYLDZNH1t1JgYWf0hdJWqUzykAwQnmxyibCQWX8bpbU0aT4lAvbOANycGWDnB9CcuYGf9SwKhpZqvopRvOkfE4Gldy2ZF_m9oE9X6Oeqa33ON7bb1P8gv0Hl9-moIGHhDtlKh_niZWfAhJ82X1xiUySeybAB2IZCMVFXtxhwz6w6B2Uv2qLWVA/s1795/magdalena-1-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1795" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErd3DmYLDZNH1t1JgYWf0hdJWqUzykAwQnmxyibCQWX8bpbU0aT4lAvbOANycGWDnB9CcuYGf9SwKhpZqvopRvOkfE4Gldy2ZF_m9oE9X6Oeqa33ON7bb1P8gv0Hl9-moIGHhDtlKh_niZWfAhJ82X1xiUySeybAB2IZCMVFXtxhwz6w6B2Uv2qLWVA/w334-h400/magdalena-1-judy-martin.jpg" width="334" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">in foreground Abakan Festival 1972 Sisal 370 x 100 x 100 <br />and Abakan Brown IV 1969-84 Sisal 290 x 300 x 30 cm </td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><i>I see fiber as the basic element constructing the organic world on our planet, as the greatest mystery of our environment. It is from fiber that all the living organisms are built, the tissue of plants, leaves and ourselves. </i></p><p><i>Our nerves, our genetic code, the canals of our veins, our muscles.</i></p><p><i>We are fibrous structures. Our heart is surrounded by the coronary plexus, the plexus of most vital threads.</i></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtpoeNjPayN8zBQjEzZRR3eyVh7a_HfVRQ5D8j7Ov7yM2y63xm82582JZJPpoZwY348igJ9W6QwFR7Q99EWwpLtFkNQBCOIufjvTKGhZIps0SJA2_pfR8C4I_YeuV-kF9MBsgZh7pptm8WcyOA2dxh_Gr9nT5rvo8j5bdw80Oj1S1S1YWV06Y48Qx4Q/s1545/magdalena-2-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1545" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtpoeNjPayN8zBQjEzZRR3eyVh7a_HfVRQ5D8j7Ov7yM2y63xm82582JZJPpoZwY348igJ9W6QwFR7Q99EWwpLtFkNQBCOIufjvTKGhZIps0SJA2_pfR8C4I_YeuV-kF9MBsgZh7pptm8WcyOA2dxh_Gr9nT5rvo8j5bdw80Oj1S1S1YWV06Y48Qx4Q/w389-h400/magdalena-2-judy-martin.jpg" width="389" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Garment VI 1976 Sisal 330 x 220 x 100, Abakan vert 1967-68 sisal 260 x 60 x 30, <br />Winter 1975 - 80, sisal 320 x 360, and Abakan Festival 1971 370 x 100 x 100</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>Handling fiber we handle mystery.</i></p><p><i>What is fabric? We weave it, sew it. We shape it into forms.</i></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kF8FBnmqM8cEce3aCvUnKMddT3sZcaanFGkNxLrQ623XY3yt6bew9bxJ4xM7Js3yO5E-0iGmI0tdoqBnNh0lOUdf8vfAZvpfkt_CvA2yORdT8P3aoN1qPhWk4aCj48tEGLkcq-imunw-wYqkNXdcnDO8Fg332ebptkunq1KSXWCP3QzBh6nA44zQhw/s1865/magdalena-3-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kF8FBnmqM8cEce3aCvUnKMddT3sZcaanFGkNxLrQ623XY3yt6bew9bxJ4xM7Js3yO5E-0iGmI0tdoqBnNh0lOUdf8vfAZvpfkt_CvA2yORdT8P3aoN1qPhWk4aCj48tEGLkcq-imunw-wYqkNXdcnDO8Fg332ebptkunq1KSXWCP3QzBh6nA44zQhw/w321-h400/magdalena-3-judy-martin.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abakan Brown 1969 Sisal 300 x 300 x 150 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>When the biology of our body breaks down, the skin has to be cut so as to give access to the inside.</i></p><p><i>Later it has to be sewn, like fabric.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NsnOSLbg6oa_9bqlQf5kcbf6uqFawNEN9NieWM4k0UVn9lPiJo8BtMdCAPmjZq7R6UcVYXPvTeNhYgObxNDg3suLOAEwLXrjJen4R-ZS6nr-HEBgdPkSep0Np0bqgbUS4vCnVMmSRxuGmflzVf7TO5h3dBC2dEKmYo5yW-ch-3U_D9lUI_VZun4-iQ/s2281/magdalena-4-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2281" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NsnOSLbg6oa_9bqlQf5kcbf6uqFawNEN9NieWM4k0UVn9lPiJo8BtMdCAPmjZq7R6UcVYXPvTeNhYgObxNDg3suLOAEwLXrjJen4R-ZS6nr-HEBgdPkSep0Np0bqgbUS4vCnVMmSRxuGmflzVf7TO5h3dBC2dEKmYo5yW-ch-3U_D9lUI_VZun4-iQ/w420-h640/magdalena-4-judy-martin.jpg" width="420" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abakan etroit 1967-68 sisal and wool 320 x 100 x 100 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>Fabric is our covering and our attire.</i></p><p><i>Made with our hands, it is a record of our souls.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHf9SBJ1f3bOT3N7llJepCDwf7nciXpbvO1Ob9cU5C2I_JlL4G6laN_amgdbVBdSWE-40zvs67d6UEmtAngP5A3w49FxmhfzNcuMm0b6ZPfYb42RHRuy2_QcdkuL48ezwgnU_mHjRZURAkHS1tbqab-ZgIg3t_7ZkM3fBIjbuVAyT8Mleo1pVnwDFJg/s2182/magdalena-12-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2182" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHf9SBJ1f3bOT3N7llJepCDwf7nciXpbvO1Ob9cU5C2I_JlL4G6laN_amgdbVBdSWE-40zvs67d6UEmtAngP5A3w49FxmhfzNcuMm0b6ZPfYb42RHRuy2_QcdkuL48ezwgnU_mHjRZURAkHS1tbqab-ZgIg3t_7ZkM3fBIjbuVAyT8Mleo1pVnwDFJg/w440-h640/magdalena-12-judy-martin.jpg" width="440" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sisal and wool abakan</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>My works are organic like creations of nature.</i></p><p><i>And like creations of nature, they will eventually turn into earth.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExE6jkqOJFB0SEmjO_Lchj-UUxQx-aR76G7XTaO8b-rJwSiVWMdcaRLvWnispeqOefD1EHnBPPutb2dlD7rxZunz0OS1FnmtkzU3Nor5sGwK0GhRBvtCN76hjlbNIFeE3n_qR5aP-P1zAeFcDTZg_IcLsTH3x32XpjvetLsEem6Nesc58gNcsvrijog/s2000/magdalena-11-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjExE6jkqOJFB0SEmjO_Lchj-UUxQx-aR76G7XTaO8b-rJwSiVWMdcaRLvWnispeqOefD1EHnBPPutb2dlD7rxZunz0OS1FnmtkzU3Nor5sGwK0GhRBvtCN76hjlbNIFeE3n_qR5aP-P1zAeFcDTZg_IcLsTH3x32XpjvetLsEem6Nesc58gNcsvrijog/w300-h400/magdalena-11-judy-martin.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Assemblage noir 1966 sisal, wool, hemp and horsehair 300 x 220</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><i>They are born from the effort of my fingers, wrists and muscles.</i></p><p><i>Only in this way can I pass on to them my energy and my secrets.</i></p><p><i>Only in this way can I learn their secrets.<br /></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRbrHLlGUTQtFwoH_zDg5a7cZlcqJCDHmdUiBOBOtgKzv-0v3pR8ApPOXB_vUR9FwyYH89Gmk84zpLKX8Taq4mXpVnRQaZvJk7yLjO87ejI_xuP2_NVgQ9EkzfnZnwPriJ7KMwuCIAzSpqy_dyfqVEitz7aRHIxfXa0Y06eqvh9LVWkv6-eF_btEgvw/s2211/magdalena-5-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2211" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRbrHLlGUTQtFwoH_zDg5a7cZlcqJCDHmdUiBOBOtgKzv-0v3pR8ApPOXB_vUR9FwyYH89Gmk84zpLKX8Taq4mXpVnRQaZvJk7yLjO87ejI_xuP2_NVgQ9EkzfnZnwPriJ7KMwuCIAzSpqy_dyfqVEitz7aRHIxfXa0Y06eqvh9LVWkv6-eF_btEgvw/w434-h640/magdalena-5-judy-martin.jpg" width="434" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brown Coat 1968 sisal 300 x 180 x 60 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>The threads I weave make up homogeneous fabric, the expression of which depends on the tension or the relaxation of my nerves.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNVVOyZyDlKtDny9jwxZzEvgrGXsDrt6LG0EIGpOM1bs7baoiaq_s9epoTP-lTgku5-C9t4-lSdEA4nf7dtZ67BKLsq1SOzyn3dhshroe_gujb3UpI6nvc48QnJa-ZtPQPRFs2Qhu6haSJYJpHj7p-USWSmVZSriHfBWRnyjXBUMXD8MI2ewmdT0daQ/s2311/unnamed---2023-04-23T020948.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2311" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNVVOyZyDlKtDny9jwxZzEvgrGXsDrt6LG0EIGpOM1bs7baoiaq_s9epoTP-lTgku5-C9t4-lSdEA4nf7dtZ67BKLsq1SOzyn3dhshroe_gujb3UpI6nvc48QnJa-ZtPQPRFs2Qhu6haSJYJpHj7p-USWSmVZSriHfBWRnyjXBUMXD8MI2ewmdT0daQ/w416-h640/unnamed---2023-04-23T020948.jpg" width="416" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abakan - Situation Variable II 1971 sisal and rope 400 x 250 x 100</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>Forms result from everyday emotions, like a diary.</i></p><p><i>They are a product and the record of my time, with its experiences, disappointments, longings and fears.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpAeZem1ZZuq_b6S5xSsVLEfljocRmRBdPFzyT17WENgW5Yf37Fh62NVqbYlgUYnT5zyz776ZAETi0vKoE6Smrm9WnkO86ahEWe4CTolBBWvu9kQUK27k7aOLzq7vV4IWbDpTeq7QqXqBrHiKYtZgoBYfYeNda5RwMBgxlXt2gqn4rdDgxT84GfxM3Q/s2285/unnamed---2023-04-23T020931.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2285" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpAeZem1ZZuq_b6S5xSsVLEfljocRmRBdPFzyT17WENgW5Yf37Fh62NVqbYlgUYnT5zyz776ZAETi0vKoE6Smrm9WnkO86ahEWe4CTolBBWvu9kQUK27k7aOLzq7vV4IWbDpTeq7QqXqBrHiKYtZgoBYfYeNda5RwMBgxlXt2gqn4rdDgxT84GfxM3Q/w420-h640/unnamed---2023-04-23T020931.jpg" width="420" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sisal and rope 1971 detail</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>My forms change as time goes by like my face.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRCePD91F_-Hj05jW8ZCFq6R-f_Fn3uWpi3atn9CODNCOndbcJ5C-LO_CqIRkJnBAP5dH5CnE--LoPo29jk_r2Z0Dp8-ocERpP35Lt2flU9Bcdln9K2ZtuJl_Sk0KuNsZaPGfzE3eLHsXBUGY3K2boGybRzgRsr-R_vWKkis3mWOd6CBRu6lVy51LoQ/s2726/magdalena-6-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2726" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRCePD91F_-Hj05jW8ZCFq6R-f_Fn3uWpi3atn9CODNCOndbcJ5C-LO_CqIRkJnBAP5dH5CnE--LoPo29jk_r2Z0Dp8-ocERpP35Lt2flU9Bcdln9K2ZtuJl_Sk0KuNsZaPGfzE3eLHsXBUGY3K2boGybRzgRsr-R_vWKkis3mWOd6CBRu6lVy51LoQ/w352-h640/magdalena-6-judy-martin.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abakan Yellow 1970 sisal and rope 380 x 380 x 70</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>My Abakans are a protest against the weaving conventions.</i></p><p><i>A need to guide people into a world different from that of a noisy street and a brutal technique.</i></p><p><i>They are a cry of despair in the face of the ailments of civilization.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzXG-AruDfzLnWSZ7aIQisJVPrA90_IebqDF7PthdV-uobLJJFrxmFGCUIvctM2N0HAb11B-FJFAgeCR_c94FbgvqYtrcTzsHmrh9zLpqx_b_sK8AidJFUqC5iVGfH8pqbT72l7xgtdIHa663CNumFaEno33sLwZt-5AfDPevzFGJj1i85c1P5TfsPQ/s2150/magdalena-8-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2150" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzzXG-AruDfzLnWSZ7aIQisJVPrA90_IebqDF7PthdV-uobLJJFrxmFGCUIvctM2N0HAb11B-FJFAgeCR_c94FbgvqYtrcTzsHmrh9zLpqx_b_sK8AidJFUqC5iVGfH8pqbT72l7xgtdIHa663CNumFaEno33sLwZt-5AfDPevzFGJj1i85c1P5TfsPQ/w446-h640/magdalena-8-judy-martin.jpg" width="446" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abakan Orange 1968 sisal 360 x 360 cm and Abakan Yellow 1970 sisal and rope 380 x 380 x 70 cm </td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>They are, like sweat, a symptom of my existence.</i></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLvx2oF-TFcj-EItcPKgqmajxaOSOUqLHS6hw5_Od5GSGPfYhwt8aKgCg7aotssERQ1vDp7oQ-V61ovBM8a_7To-R4OToZCjAjKE4cOgeqXVT11nHZ2cF3GAlQ6JH7_k-P9kIhM1_29duqIpKXAjdMbjX_d4fAEuhn9-ufFOns98z5ByMxKuni7oppg/s1945/magdalena-9-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1945" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLvx2oF-TFcj-EItcPKgqmajxaOSOUqLHS6hw5_Od5GSGPfYhwt8aKgCg7aotssERQ1vDp7oQ-V61ovBM8a_7To-R4OToZCjAjKE4cOgeqXVT11nHZ2cF3GAlQ6JH7_k-P9kIhM1_29duqIpKXAjdMbjX_d4fAEuhn9-ufFOns98z5ByMxKuni7oppg/w309-h400/magdalena-9-judy-martin.jpg" width="309" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">background, abakan orange on floor, abakan january february 1972 behind it, and some of the 800 embryology bundles. Foreground is Abakan Red 1969 Sisal 405 x 382 x 400 cm</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The text in italics is from Magdalena Abakanowicz's presentation at Fiberworks: Symposium on Contemporary Textile Art in Oakland California, May 1978. The images are from the exhibition <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/press/press-releases/magdalena-abakanowicz-every-tangle-of-thread-and-rope">Every Tangle of Thread and Rope</a>, curated by Ann Coxon, the Tate Modern, London, England for winter/spring 2022-23. An excellent video produced by the Tate: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xrxx3tpEuco" target="_blank">click here</a>! </p>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-52018937320652095782022-07-14T15:17:00.014-04:002022-07-15T09:35:24.963-04:00Sun Spots at the Gladstone House<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg098IC_hwL13qTLr6pVfZ_qf_f3Y7pS8CXefnyfjYILSuuRAekFs5Se7NGLksO571llMS1-8Ul755b3ZtidoHoxgKrU3-F9ExnbW_tnhnJwu0nttCpdviT5-kOcOZHkCocC9qb496w_46gLfVawpf2Ur27HDHTekRHWYTwYxHyb3-IXpR2zOfvLXYw1w/s2000/april-close-up-cyanotype.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg098IC_hwL13qTLr6pVfZ_qf_f3Y7pS8CXefnyfjYILSuuRAekFs5Se7NGLksO571llMS1-8Ul755b3ZtidoHoxgKrU3-F9ExnbW_tnhnJwu0nttCpdviT5-kOcOZHkCocC9qb496w_46gLfVawpf2Ur27HDHTekRHWYTwYxHyb3-IXpR2zOfvLXYw1w/w300-h400/april-close-up-cyanotype.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun Spots (1) detail, cyanotype on paper by April Martin, 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>April Martin was one of the Toronto area artists who was invited to create new art for the renovated Gladstone Hotel, now called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gladstone_Hotel_(Toronto)">Gladstone House</a>, one of the oldest buildings still operating as a hotel in Toronto. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_k_HiA697RRK9bsw68lnEbY7z3mjNs4-Tq-LF1v72yIB-Q4coq7t8ZoBs3dQWQTLQj_Hz2TR263BDnQfVSALpX7C3Kra8FmHXTYJzuiDjsSOHYPnc4TevdmzBQO3ZhZXqQLuwbLBeoOk0BmYB_EI5-Z-I7FsnrYHsnMWCyTcEq3EjjKgCW_hkTUqwA/s2826/april-cyanotype-in-room-307.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1421" data-original-width="2826" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_k_HiA697RRK9bsw68lnEbY7z3mjNs4-Tq-LF1v72yIB-Q4coq7t8ZoBs3dQWQTLQj_Hz2TR263BDnQfVSALpX7C3Kra8FmHXTYJzuiDjsSOHYPnc4TevdmzBQO3ZhZXqQLuwbLBeoOk0BmYB_EI5-Z-I7FsnrYHsnMWCyTcEq3EjjKgCW_hkTUqwA/w400-h201/april-cyanotype-in-room-307.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun Spots (1),2021, cyanotype on paper <br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Her work responds to the Romanesque Revival architecture of the 1889 building, specifically the ten small windows made from pressed glass that are a focal point of the Queen street entrance. <div><br /></div><div>She made photograms of these windows by pressing photosensitive paper against the textured glass. </div><div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCamtJ26l1ows23Ip4rJBU6U8CfeiDjq3iDXQtNEz1tl_qW4c3BoozRoUtzjGB0RC4y49o6G2-rjsp6WPlb3yAB8IYNXSO8ObuL7YJB9mSLgL5SAZM2rqdWTwkfhVhY2-c5sKtFdwlwQfL1TsvkWl_nGRbzFBA9N4L7TG7MAhBFC85Wb-L2ONZ8ZIDQ/s1500/april-cyanotype-judy-martin.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCamtJ26l1ows23Ip4rJBU6U8CfeiDjq3iDXQtNEz1tl_qW4c3BoozRoUtzjGB0RC4y49o6G2-rjsp6WPlb3yAB8IYNXSO8ObuL7YJB9mSLgL5SAZM2rqdWTwkfhVhY2-c5sKtFdwlwQfL1TsvkWl_nGRbzFBA9N4L7TG7MAhBFC85Wb-L2ONZ8ZIDQ/w400-h300/april-cyanotype-judy-martin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>To create the cyanotypes the artist needed to prepare good quality art paper with the photo chemicals and keep it protected from light until the last minute. A tall step ladder was one of her tools. </div><div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9343V9ZmjHCiMeufZH7O3eV5ve-cU_Mz65hrJQTIQNI6jSTtt5CwNoKdVPqTZyFCwIEcEU6S4_kT1QyF8UnQE69o6B2hyBlB42S6NNMr4TdrkPUHcZTaGaqs135I6uL1Ktq_srhUdK8C9J4oonSwIvKg_Tt2nn7i7lE8rRUWfy80-pvoodyxrKkEUzA/s2000/april-cyanotype.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9343V9ZmjHCiMeufZH7O3eV5ve-cU_Mz65hrJQTIQNI6jSTtt5CwNoKdVPqTZyFCwIEcEU6S4_kT1QyF8UnQE69o6B2hyBlB42S6NNMr4TdrkPUHcZTaGaqs135I6uL1Ktq_srhUdK8C9J4oonSwIvKg_Tt2nn7i7lE8rRUWfy80-pvoodyxrKkEUzA/w300-h400/april-cyanotype.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p><a href="https://www.gladstonehouse.ca/artists/april-martin/">April Martin</a> is a process-based sculptor. </p><p>She enjoys creating art that allows things to happen. </p><p>In this case the sunlight acted together with the materials of chemicals and paper. </p><p>This blog has featured April Martin before. Please have a look at the <a href="https://modernistaesthetic.blogspot.com/2019/08/visual-arts-summer-exhibition-harbour.html">August 2019</a> post, or the <a href="https://modernistaesthetic.blogspot.com/2018/01/april-martin-new-work-three-recent.html">January 2018 </a>post or the <a href="https://modernistaesthetic.blogspot.com/2016/05/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate.html">May 2016</a> posts if you are interested in seeing more of her collaborations. </p><p>This artist is curious. She believes in magic. She opens personal windows for herself and for us. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDuHnvYYHHaCrWfC6DKylikv6E474cgHRvkv4xL6zWNRqmIaP973iUYubMwP8eadnIf_KR0AXfNOClZouhMSOrRGqO-UK9RvExP45FdTdtf3bDMHM1DT9h9APTubMg3PkvkzIQa7pV9rWA0oY-5jDDNWPH4IA7FTt0OMrcIt4gNv482mY_Hz4wfp0wg/s2000/april-close-up-2-cyanotype.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDuHnvYYHHaCrWfC6DKylikv6E474cgHRvkv4xL6zWNRqmIaP973iUYubMwP8eadnIf_KR0AXfNOClZouhMSOrRGqO-UK9RvExP45FdTdtf3bDMHM1DT9h9APTubMg3PkvkzIQa7pV9rWA0oY-5jDDNWPH4IA7FTt0OMrcIt4gNv482mY_Hz4wfp0wg/w300-h400/april-close-up-2-cyanotype.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun Spots (1) detail, cyanotype on paper by April Martin 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTyq84Lr5ZXHxFMa-gnWpHBafRxf-hQQN_eVsbTaab1yPoOl9fXmFR2wp4Brp1yZG4_ns91hm0m-hC3gIRjufPgxmd4EcnqjUJTV8SRTJCjfVLLY-Q_UoPGPXj5d0-wmVjO_lu1Azb6GXEBDizY5BnW1C3eqvT7X-eu1yJ0bT3njTaqbBjCIs_-1iZA/s1711/april-martin-cyanotype.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1711" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTyq84Lr5ZXHxFMa-gnWpHBafRxf-hQQN_eVsbTaab1yPoOl9fXmFR2wp4Brp1yZG4_ns91hm0m-hC3gIRjufPgxmd4EcnqjUJTV8SRTJCjfVLLY-Q_UoPGPXj5d0-wmVjO_lu1Azb6GXEBDizY5BnW1C3eqvT7X-eu1yJ0bT3njTaqbBjCIs_-1iZA/w562-h640/april-martin-cyanotype.jpg" width="562" /></a></div><p>April Martin is my daughter and last month I visited Gladstone House (room 307) so that I could see her work. The rooms are elegant and have a minimalist aesthetic. I took this photo just before I left after a lovely two night stay (and a beautiful city visit with her). </p><p>All the guest rooms have the neutral style seen in this photo yet each is made unique with original art created by local Toronto artists. I've written about the Gladstone hotel's annual exhibition of textile art, <a href="https://judys-journal.blogspot.com/2011/12/hard-twist.html">Hard Twist</a>, several times on Judy's Journal. While that show is not happening anymore, the hotel is still committed to supporting the arts. Read about the art program and find the names of the other artists involved in the new décor at <a href="https://www.gladstonehouse.ca/art-program/">this link.</a></p><p></p><blockquote><i>"Look up! Notice the ten panes of differently textured glass, as you come and go through the south entrance of the hotel. </i><i>These photograms were captured by pressing photosensitive paper against early spring light that filtered through the unique crystalline surfaces. Like the marks that stain your eyelids after staring at the bright sky, these shapes stretch as doorways into other, blue worlds." April Martin</i></blockquote><p></p><p></p></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-62129278133612195392022-06-16T23:17:00.015-04:002022-06-20T08:55:34.117-04:00Kirsti Rantanen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclhNcIMu5O9RyjUcnhG6uZCfRWUee15Zwth2rKFKRluussMZE8EO0iO9QSDto7JAZT96fluPs7huT3F2zDizD_12czY2fl1aCNTdajYjANSUpCgBliMki-PJajyP7mo-pPYThyCgs4PbllqjKapxDPj5NZZhY_4VJLm7MrgRgZ7tUh0Xw2b6k1j3Wvg/s2000/kirsti_rantanen_kannustaa-rohkaista-teos_kannustaloon_1986_kuva_auvo-lukki.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="946" data-original-width="2000" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclhNcIMu5O9RyjUcnhG6uZCfRWUee15Zwth2rKFKRluussMZE8EO0iO9QSDto7JAZT96fluPs7huT3F2zDizD_12czY2fl1aCNTdajYjANSUpCgBliMki-PJajyP7mo-pPYThyCgs4PbllqjKapxDPj5NZZhY_4VJLm7MrgRgZ7tUh0Xw2b6k1j3Wvg/w400-h189/kirsti_rantanen_kannustaa-rohkaista-teos_kannustaloon_1986_kuva_auvo-lukki.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Kirsti Rantanen</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A strong woman textile artist from Finland. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">She is having a retrospective exhibition this year at the Craft Museum of Finland in Jyvaskyla entitled <a href="https://www.craftmuseum.fi/en/craft-museum-finland/nayttelyt-ja-tapahtumat/temporary-exhibitions/kirsti-rantanen-space-textiles" target="_blank">The Space of Textiles</a>. It continues until the end of August 2022.</div></div><p>Although she was well known in her native Finland, she is almost unknown in other parts of the world. The images in this post are from the exhibition of her work that took place at Helsinki's Design Museum of Finland in 2016-2017 that was simply entitled <a href="https://www.designmuseum.fi/en/exhibitions/kirstirantanen/" target="_blank">Kirsti Rantanen.</a> </p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KWNJ402d2_CRzQLJf_P1fcGjbmmuva5XGMOSi2M3l9LcKHXO6JRL3PxKNl4CkMCFjbmbMj-isXXJbjms_f9tKpOChjqZg8tbL8rOmsDmMDJuVD6POfDP_UzEo0PHiUQzi2_gQfvaHnMSyG4if96qF3O3_Rq5OQg64fox0F8SptJ4u4RNkAbCU86Utg/s1600/35937828574_4844917f3c_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KWNJ402d2_CRzQLJf_P1fcGjbmmuva5XGMOSi2M3l9LcKHXO6JRL3PxKNl4CkMCFjbmbMj-isXXJbjms_f9tKpOChjqZg8tbL8rOmsDmMDJuVD6POfDP_UzEo0PHiUQzi2_gQfvaHnMSyG4if96qF3O3_Rq5OQg64fox0F8SptJ4u4RNkAbCU86Utg/w400-h266/35937828574_4844917f3c_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Thank you to Camille who wrote <a href="https://itscamilleco.com/2017/08/travel-diary-design-district-helsinki/" target="_blank">a blog post about Helsinki's design district </a>in 2017.</div><div><br /></div><div>The above photo and the one below are from Camille's blog. </div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpTs2ruBADv_DNtAwr-vd8OtmiLysehz5e5nCkYGm_gsOfbAbSFM1rdi-vYnkLER_OEc9VhFLpuoy1hUf87NwHqjlu7XrE5vo4ozxtWT-BETqTMvX6qOGsD8xq1FRRtXDIAg0VkRd75pRSgZlm9acD4gA-uQ1aD9pPnR7C_vroZx-RCZaNJpDpXG-Pg/s1600/kirsti%20rananen%20sculptural%20textiles%20wow.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpTs2ruBADv_DNtAwr-vd8OtmiLysehz5e5nCkYGm_gsOfbAbSFM1rdi-vYnkLER_OEc9VhFLpuoy1hUf87NwHqjlu7XrE5vo4ozxtWT-BETqTMvX6qOGsD8xq1FRRtXDIAg0VkRd75pRSgZlm9acD4gA-uQ1aD9pPnR7C_vroZx-RCZaNJpDpXG-Pg/w400-h266/kirsti%20rananen%20sculptural%20textiles%20wow.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Several circles and zig zags float through the exhibition space and guide us through the space. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eHbG6bmeZy8c0OkxJXL1JiP5V6K12uz49-o_5sNo6g6Dfs4OQiyU3URSGUxRIYFK43tV6N1Hv8owyszroj_FY3dZJY1nUDDGD1JyShIvOZNtq3AIaOSTR_lWZ-yTuzRViSRMgGmbSbIp6JF1JuELT4nxm1U5CMvUjYdTDMVrN9sWtqcSrCzdt2WSxQ/s1375/kirsti_rantanen%20OMG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1375" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eHbG6bmeZy8c0OkxJXL1JiP5V6K12uz49-o_5sNo6g6Dfs4OQiyU3URSGUxRIYFK43tV6N1Hv8owyszroj_FY3dZJY1nUDDGD1JyShIvOZNtq3AIaOSTR_lWZ-yTuzRViSRMgGmbSbIp6JF1JuELT4nxm1U5CMvUjYdTDMVrN9sWtqcSrCzdt2WSxQ/w400-h233/kirsti_rantanen%20OMG.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><div><br /></div>Kirsti Rantanen was born in 1930.</span><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">She graduated from the Department of Textile Art at the School of Art and Design in Helsinki in 1952 and during the 50's taught art and design there. </span></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">During this time she also designed Rya rugs and furnishing textiles.</span></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">During the 1</span></span></span><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">970's she began to experiment with sculptural textiles and also to advocate for women artists.</span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIhfn0peB3gjFXHYxfHmiI1W8qgvVIGq8TrSFQ-KhiWG9wZ6LOClyH0MsMpAYc6uyuW-tjDX4IgjFpC3AtNpdBkrNIaHvgoHneYP3EQ3k-MVCLtDZXFmsIFrd1zOVZ6YVz5FhcII2GH9Qvt3IBuRaS64i7b1Km0VFh4L20NJpiFGxDBWYpCj-fefxlA/s640/465405ad5c1abd7872a81ccc9e15730f.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIhfn0peB3gjFXHYxfHmiI1W8qgvVIGq8TrSFQ-KhiWG9wZ6LOClyH0MsMpAYc6uyuW-tjDX4IgjFpC3AtNpdBkrNIaHvgoHneYP3EQ3k-MVCLtDZXFmsIFrd1zOVZ6YVz5FhcII2GH9Qvt3IBuRaS64i7b1Km0VFh4L20NJpiFGxDBWYpCj-fefxlA/w400-h400/465405ad5c1abd7872a81ccc9e15730f.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">After the age of 40, her work became </span></span><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">three-dimensional.</span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">It takes up space. </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">We move around it, yearn to touch it. </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">The scale is awesome. </span></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">Rantanen's textiles are large and in this way they mimic nature.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 13.6px;">trees <span> </span>mountains <span> </span>clouds </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 13.6px;"> <br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfduBpyOGSRUIxbKaoZSPc8c88StXcTn4b-pORzLp-UaUYPqgYFEH4Jvg0cFBvL9JDh3p4SsFDOCNUh99HAlMdrUrUDqWBDQWCduSVnn2pcuNvSwlwp0OtyJ6raPN4ytXZCimLxtttJ8nT4jM6Ha5sh-ccdOQUD24bcXLbwAP6bz6HtG5QTu1SIttW4w/s710/finland_02.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="473" data-original-width="710" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfduBpyOGSRUIxbKaoZSPc8c88StXcTn4b-pORzLp-UaUYPqgYFEH4Jvg0cFBvL9JDh3p4SsFDOCNUh99HAlMdrUrUDqWBDQWCduSVnn2pcuNvSwlwp0OtyJ6raPN4ytXZCimLxtttJ8nT4jM6Ha5sh-ccdOQUD24bcXLbwAP6bz6HtG5QTu1SIttW4w/w400-h266/finland_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div>In 1983, Kirsti Rantanen won an award that allowed her to take time off teaching and be a free lance artist for five years. </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">She moved out of Helsinki to the medieval town of Porvoo and began the most fertile period of her career. She started to use the </span><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">ancient Sumak method of weaving on a vertical warp that hangs from the ceiling. To weave large scale on a free vertical warp means that she had to work on a ladder sometimes while weaving. Yes, she was a strong woman artist. </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">Her monumental weavings were made between 1984 and 1993 when she was in her 50’s and early 60’s. </span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.6px;">In 2017, after the exhibition of this body of work at the Design Museum, Kirsti Rantanen donated the collection to the museum. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IxDqocdRxCwWHsbkkbDPZoWSpJ2x7YC_2atEuErAxmLpjGOhWUD9UixtwhGw9bKgJ8blKQBJGui_VeGd-_oYShLmFIaCV_D5dzQ_2oH1eMZvIRcRRTfqjuswCQQQthh_d8fF2pdkhTyX2G-Gpr6pGn2F1dpE7-9T5ccV2BErw50ecOetSU3Cutovsw/s259/images%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IxDqocdRxCwWHsbkkbDPZoWSpJ2x7YC_2atEuErAxmLpjGOhWUD9UixtwhGw9bKgJ8blKQBJGui_VeGd-_oYShLmFIaCV_D5dzQ_2oH1eMZvIRcRRTfqjuswCQQQthh_d8fF2pdkhTyX2G-Gpr6pGn2F1dpE7-9T5ccV2BErw50ecOetSU3Cutovsw/w400-h299/images%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div>Women artists from pre-internet times are being discovered by curators today. It's exciting.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is good that the Design Museum is taking care of her work and that her work is being shared with other museums. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ALvMUvo64Vo-H-2f-3bTZrnSSxc7nahaZI1UaeZaSf5g3PgggFTMcB6nhHtN93mlOiVjdKzZvAWaJ_r4duPNv7HThyGolOD9yfTjq5eKL1sd5_4_hApQDj_y0uRwg4oiJhjW6N1B5VIX5g-VR6ptsNV0ceFb-x5IsLmYJde-QtlGQJ4W9D_hefEmkw/s275/images%20(3).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ALvMUvo64Vo-H-2f-3bTZrnSSxc7nahaZI1UaeZaSf5g3PgggFTMcB6nhHtN93mlOiVjdKzZvAWaJ_r4duPNv7HThyGolOD9yfTjq5eKL1sd5_4_hApQDj_y0uRwg4oiJhjW6N1B5VIX5g-VR6ptsNV0ceFb-x5IsLmYJde-QtlGQJ4W9D_hefEmkw/w400-h266/images%20(3).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Apologies that I have not been able to find the titles of most of Rantanen's sculptural pieces. I will keep looking. I will be paying attention to her name.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ATK7ZqPVInhlGI42n0QziJx48Ce-wvNgHrtwi9SkDHHTb9VdiI4qomJ62sWpl-Bsu-DeN2EAIEhpqIfxQl2015yVwaJYBs82d7iR3GQTkHPZUmraln9P3oXabAAZmxAvcAfSdynBOnCjHYf_K3KefoVreM3MM9GqY993tFcNtTdbqJ_AOlQXpkEjw/s275/images%20(4).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ATK7ZqPVInhlGI42n0QziJx48Ce-wvNgHrtwi9SkDHHTb9VdiI4qomJ62sWpl-Bsu-DeN2EAIEhpqIfxQl2015yVwaJYBs82d7iR3GQTkHPZUmraln9P3oXabAAZmxAvcAfSdynBOnCjHYf_K3KefoVreM3MM9GqY993tFcNtTdbqJ_AOlQXpkEjw/w266-h400/images%20(4).jpg" width="266" /></a></div>Her name is Kirsti Rantanen. (1930-2020)</div><div><br /></div><div>She has a Wikipedia page that you can look up. She has a daughter who is a respected artist named Silja Rantanen. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDLccThaWy0TQbeU3DTut0V0mbtCrFwrEo5ZanZq7Aa1AidgszkPURUlk8AjNT2PbWgwuLNTjlGkFjFI2EUXO-sZSXEOBEOPdWOk54EII0UilmauSXuvrUG6aJrZyB1ueszR59v4SvVu6CxFCpDNf3nbtYTcWw3tV9Uia7UKtoVamiLTEIJQ_9mAI-w/s275/images.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDLccThaWy0TQbeU3DTut0V0mbtCrFwrEo5ZanZq7Aa1AidgszkPURUlk8AjNT2PbWgwuLNTjlGkFjFI2EUXO-sZSXEOBEOPdWOk54EII0UilmauSXuvrUG6aJrZyB1ueszR59v4SvVu6CxFCpDNf3nbtYTcWw3tV9Uia7UKtoVamiLTEIJQ_9mAI-w/w400-h266/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>A review of the Design Museum exhibition is available through this link. <a href="https://yle.fi/uutiset/3-9450843" target="_blank">The article is written by Satu-Lotta Peltola</a></div><div> </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5JwH6QFbRx2w8ArpguQzPUljpAuYVvdOyHUgtVihLsMLgA286l_EJQEogHGxyRHSBUE8g6Fu-o44C8K49d8l2GbREsue0OP9bGrXUjWBLfQZ9R3p37cNMPgtBexHeGQYGNPWzsznEvBxdGKhP69tdcMnA9zwHE13VxWGdiEizstklBZxc01nHYLyHQ/s2000/Kirsti-Rantanen-007_2000pix.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="2000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs5JwH6QFbRx2w8ArpguQzPUljpAuYVvdOyHUgtVihLsMLgA286l_EJQEogHGxyRHSBUE8g6Fu-o44C8K49d8l2GbREsue0OP9bGrXUjWBLfQZ9R3p37cNMPgtBexHeGQYGNPWzsznEvBxdGKhP69tdcMnA9zwHE13VxWGdiEizstklBZxc01nHYLyHQ/w400-h240/Kirsti-Rantanen-007_2000pix.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div>Kirsti went on to make more sculptural work that involved wire and the spiral as a form. </div></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_WPJXOtSFz-A4cHZ62fsnborSyaZXceRCJ83ssPt_IgvLH46M-WN7XwQ8LiFa16pNPVeaFYs7n_tb_VbHAX9r4HU7QiemaGuu1APAMONhF0wBILJtFFk0mSk--yFQyfADK0QFKJUwzCZYOFHAsuyuqU84RsOYmEJHZ-Qvmf_PNLw-1HSw8ffF_-rKRw" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_WPJXOtSFz-A4cHZ62fsnborSyaZXceRCJ83ssPt_IgvLH46M-WN7XwQ8LiFa16pNPVeaFYs7n_tb_VbHAX9r4HU7QiemaGuu1APAMONhF0wBILJtFFk0mSk--yFQyfADK0QFKJUwzCZYOFHAsuyuqU84RsOYmEJHZ-Qvmf_PNLw-1HSw8ffF_-rKRw=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Requiem is the title of the blue piece, Abandoned Stage is the title of the black portal, all work by Kirsti Rantanen<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p></div></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-59112839066588628082021-10-26T19:12:00.013-04:002021-10-26T20:33:28.626-04:00Penny Berens In The Middle Of The World<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNcCOMouThQIZHCRxvLBsJvbJDKSPOEM6drAiSz1lXa-cT30N2DNhiuihKfNTEAlNJRM0-1rgZMUSvsj3bVdw1gJT-C8uHGfJnBR0S16aQ8rAg7Y-aMyxnNaJKeToUZOBkPjbntBWmWzy/s1500/penny-Berens-2-middle-of-th.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1210" data-original-width="1500" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNcCOMouThQIZHCRxvLBsJvbJDKSPOEM6drAiSz1lXa-cT30N2DNhiuihKfNTEAlNJRM0-1rgZMUSvsj3bVdw1gJT-C8uHGfJnBR0S16aQ8rAg7Y-aMyxnNaJKeToUZOBkPjbntBWmWzy/w400-h323/penny-Berens-2-middle-of-th.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whispering Cairns <br />plant dyes on silk, wool, cotton, linen<br /> hand stitched 35 x 49 inches 2019</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYS0CmUOTWtNefivQShtjPnM9We7eCPufl5rypRsbZwPzlwOCY16wxhijovzffQVkZWic8HzugWGzp07LiT9xnzskD04jn9leXMlSnN3gdijO_D9Jjk0BteIwQ8lCHePar1qjdPnF-sfBc/s1500/penny-Berens-3-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYS0CmUOTWtNefivQShtjPnM9We7eCPufl5rypRsbZwPzlwOCY16wxhijovzffQVkZWic8HzugWGzp07LiT9xnzskD04jn9leXMlSnN3gdijO_D9Jjk0BteIwQ8lCHePar1qjdPnF-sfBc/w400-h400/penny-Berens-3-in-the-middl.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chasing the Moon <br />plant dyes on damask, silk, cotton<br />hand stitched 40 x 50 inches 2020</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Penny's artist statement for this new body of work begins with these words: "For many years now I have taken to heart the words of <a href="https://www.shambhala.com/drawing-closer-to-nature.html">Peter London in his book ‘Drawing Closer to Nature"</a><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZeic471OweNBc_VX_hf-LI7jYIsF-08Lb2UusBgSLfJs_C_7OeJHvjUvTzW0Ijb3JOI_SNremFCwMohOPqjAfXIx4sah6Aj9E-WJmd9HF5FWW0LmhwjT99TQn6H3PeBGk2ncfLzmXO1nA/s1500/penny-Berens-6-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="1500" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZeic471OweNBc_VX_hf-LI7jYIsF-08Lb2UusBgSLfJs_C_7OeJHvjUvTzW0Ijb3JOI_SNremFCwMohOPqjAfXIx4sah6Aj9E-WJmd9HF5FWW0LmhwjT99TQn6H3PeBGk2ncfLzmXO1nA/w400-h328/penny-Berens-6-in-the-middl.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Resting Between Tides<br /> plant dyes and discharge on silk, wool, cotton, linen<br />hand stitched 43 x 42.5 inches 2019</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><i>“Find a portion of the world that is close at hand and adopt it. Become acquainted with it. Draw closer to it by staying with it over a long course of time. In all seasons, all times of the day, all weathers, all circumstances of your own life. The more often you return to this chosen portion of Nature, the more finely you will be able to perceive its more delicate features, as well the slow-to-emerge pattern and rhythms.” Peter London</i></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgc1JzNJTbMG0WVyKjSOKHyhCWTglZKZaAz0FxCPJtGLMydlSnRD6MCUWRvPP0XyDdbuLizjx49QUuCLw9YDcGNoP4oy892t5GknLcfAQtK1mOFJNvLZcsy9tK2TgYpqY-91MuguySygfS/s1500/penny-berens-4-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1277" data-original-width="1500" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgc1JzNJTbMG0WVyKjSOKHyhCWTglZKZaAz0FxCPJtGLMydlSnRD6MCUWRvPP0XyDdbuLizjx49QUuCLw9YDcGNoP4oy892t5GknLcfAQtK1mOFJNvLZcsy9tK2TgYpqY-91MuguySygfS/w400-h340/penny-berens-4-in-the-middl.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Resting Between Night and Day<br />plant dyes and discharge on silk, cotton, linen, wool,<br />hand stitched 2019 43 x 49 inches</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpSMAKpuTfz8cHTaCNEs2gixD6lkbtHNSGvESuZvauEUrJ3iGsFawLs1Z0TkgmiDTnQqfTO8KTV0H2MiuOAqgiUskUa0vQj7mkCOwt2P3YH_cChE9uehEmUGEvcfGaUT9qt5YLE20LQ3i/s1740/penny-Berens-7-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1740" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpSMAKpuTfz8cHTaCNEs2gixD6lkbtHNSGvESuZvauEUrJ3iGsFawLs1Z0TkgmiDTnQqfTO8KTV0H2MiuOAqgiUskUa0vQj7mkCOwt2P3YH_cChE9uehEmUGEvcfGaUT9qt5YLE20LQ3i/w345-h400/penny-Berens-7-in-the-middl.jpg" width="345" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holding Deep Memory<br />hand stitch and shibori on reclaimed denim dress and old table linen<br /> 44.5 x 39.5 inches 2021</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsk1H03Ad_weV4y4YdahsecACbuirSBS0AouLN0QjJhp82pkGqYI-ggbFjClQcxMaKbivSFhwBBLAOBsIgTVfQ8SyXLaNQApl4PDqju-HnrGAc0_c3RJZqjd1Iv9_R3T2STteP9VnPl0VP/s1500/penny-Berens-8-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="1500" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsk1H03Ad_weV4y4YdahsecACbuirSBS0AouLN0QjJhp82pkGqYI-ggbFjClQcxMaKbivSFhwBBLAOBsIgTVfQ8SyXLaNQApl4PDqju-HnrGAc0_c3RJZqjd1Iv9_R3T2STteP9VnPl0VP/w400-h359/penny-Berens-8-in-the-middl.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woodland Berries <br />plant dyes on silk, wool, cotton <br />hand stitched 43 x 42 inches 2019</td></tr></tbody></table><br />My process starts with daily wanderings in the wooded coastal landscape of Nova Scotia, slowly becoming more and more familiar with those seasonal rhythms and changing patterns. Penny Berens<br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrDdgpNuXxVDFx3sxBfuHpoG-RKenw_X3-qiuzKyoaEfr3ETmdUY_rPxj5tbe8nr7WL70jXrJDELphNYZ109ipWsUnPjNGjIts-JaCw2CoOEYxAsJkAQ8zqQGlV3LBYcTwTy_i8wp7-Yj/s1500/penny-Berens-9-in-the-middl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="1500" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrDdgpNuXxVDFx3sxBfuHpoG-RKenw_X3-qiuzKyoaEfr3ETmdUY_rPxj5tbe8nr7WL70jXrJDELphNYZ109ipWsUnPjNGjIts-JaCw2CoOEYxAsJkAQ8zqQGlV3LBYcTwTy_i8wp7-Yj/w400-h205/penny-Berens-9-in-the-middl.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from left to right <br />A Stream Runs Through It, The Edge of the Woods, Woodpeckers Live Here<br />Plant dyes on cotton, silk, wool, hand stitched.<br />various sizes, approximately 21 x 15 or 20 inches 2015</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVo62QqWWz4GYbfhNhJ8jvq5guIYLTKmmh7xV8IuwTM_W2olshEG1zpK9NFVJ3Xq7lTbbF5gszAKACiBsarYLMcUipQWS3nh0w3ZGw78ARjGN6ArAncrnCUeL56nd1tE7jUOOI8Dn_qMg/s2000/penny-Berens-10-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVo62QqWWz4GYbfhNhJ8jvq5guIYLTKmmh7xV8IuwTM_W2olshEG1zpK9NFVJ3Xq7lTbbF5gszAKACiBsarYLMcUipQWS3nh0w3ZGw78ARjGN6ArAncrnCUeL56nd1tE7jUOOI8Dn_qMg/w300-h400/penny-Berens-10-in-the-midd.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When Autumn Leaves Fall <br />plant dyes on silk, linen, cotton<br />hand stitched, 30 x 24 inches 2017</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />During the warmer months these walks become foraging expeditions for dye stuff with which to colour the fabrics I use. This plant dyed cloth is then hand stitched and embroidered in response to these walks.</div><div>Penny Berens</div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fSTBiA6kR_Nupc6w0E8EuGEb7kqvwYchFru-VpIUQ3z4IuHfzCFXz2VbB_EFa98zXIeVb-BpKZQgEWAvKM2BkcgrN9k2gzQ_tHGlXzpQGie7W02l-dVdIQicVyoo5yEX_RevRpVp9kYX/s1849/penny-Berens-14-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1849" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fSTBiA6kR_Nupc6w0E8EuGEb7kqvwYchFru-VpIUQ3z4IuHfzCFXz2VbB_EFa98zXIeVb-BpKZQgEWAvKM2BkcgrN9k2gzQ_tHGlXzpQGie7W02l-dVdIQicVyoo5yEX_RevRpVp9kYX/w325-h400/penny-Berens-14-in-the-midd.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking on Stoney Ground<br />plant dye and rust on linen, cotton, silk, wool<br />hand stitched 29.9 x 24 inches 2019</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91JTsStHYWHqza_m4jGLWWcA__XH36wUb31DGyrX6rWTURW466J9D9PUNpHww1Bg2FEyY_5CMdpJvaPR7qtkWYgGqvn9Jjqyov_Jfjrz1aUa2PPVmc-SpN8WxXxdA3uFYUavyiNKIjrUb/s1725/penny-Berens-11-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1725" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91JTsStHYWHqza_m4jGLWWcA__XH36wUb31DGyrX6rWTURW466J9D9PUNpHww1Bg2FEyY_5CMdpJvaPR7qtkWYgGqvn9Jjqyov_Jfjrz1aUa2PPVmc-SpN8WxXxdA3uFYUavyiNKIjrUb/w348-h400/penny-Berens-11-in-the-midd.jpg" width="348" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stoney Island Memories <br />plant dye on linen, cotton, silk, wool<br />hand stitched 42.9 x 31.5 inches 2019<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Working by hand is a slow and tactile practice spread over long periods of time which deepens and clarifies my understanding of the story the piece wishes to tell. Penny Berens</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDqm5P19PNS66XAv-SRxz1ZEwWDOu_TpdDvpPyrocSPXc8ljCoWzaLvDPub7jDlcpOauweaW128W-dApAQaKgj8EFV4Jq8Zd8uhesctu6KsbwXnBG6VOCyVZ31Xs2R7untfaE9zAHirtt/s1786/penny-Berens-12-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1786" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDqm5P19PNS66XAv-SRxz1ZEwWDOu_TpdDvpPyrocSPXc8ljCoWzaLvDPub7jDlcpOauweaW128W-dApAQaKgj8EFV4Jq8Zd8uhesctu6KsbwXnBG6VOCyVZ31Xs2R7untfaE9zAHirtt/w336-h400/penny-Berens-12-in-the-midd.jpg" width="336" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaver Moon Dreaming<br />plant dye and discharge on cotton and linen <br />hand stitched 43.3 x 43.3 inches 2020<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table>I would hope that my process and the final embroideries inspire others to slow down and become inspired by daily observations in their own chosen landscapes. (Penny Berens)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gm_Rc9AexSbjEvcQYkL8VZMY3GnxXIoCe6zAluABsi-3K5eIj19xPhTa4-xjPKkJLwgHhHMyd75LZ4wJXHVankUTcP3UwAvt6LSi4fKOXDQnixGftVsqHCFlTTmGVWbmHD_tJj7Lv2-e/s1500/penny-berens-13-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1470" data-original-width="1500" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gm_Rc9AexSbjEvcQYkL8VZMY3GnxXIoCe6zAluABsi-3K5eIj19xPhTa4-xjPKkJLwgHhHMyd75LZ4wJXHVankUTcP3UwAvt6LSi4fKOXDQnixGftVsqHCFlTTmGVWbmHD_tJj7Lv2-e/w400-h393/penny-berens-13-in-the-midd.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chasing The Moon<br />hand stitch on silk, cotton, damask<br />40 x 50 inches 2020</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtASrPVfpQIDV4TQBX5JZ1pmESqPB7pn5SuLvl4X0K_GKl1JSSaLRA_I31ALD51upy_1_1Tmk_M6m9rqeU1L1YnJ8V5Cf5a_cFBqxWMHp2lCXrECV_PIJmXOW-VYwmFl88Kz_Fx-nwjnW/s2000/Penny-Berens-middle-of-the-.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtASrPVfpQIDV4TQBX5JZ1pmESqPB7pn5SuLvl4X0K_GKl1JSSaLRA_I31ALD51upy_1_1Tmk_M6m9rqeU1L1YnJ8V5Cf5a_cFBqxWMHp2lCXrECV_PIJmXOW-VYwmFl88Kz_Fx-nwjnW/w300-h400/Penny-Berens-middle-of-the-.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing In The Wind <br />plant dyes on linen, silk velvet, cotton, wool <br />hand stitched 41.5 x 31 inches 2020</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMj5qVEbtaDNS1tBQa1fKiJvDdVyOg7ea21OWduyY-jiysvKXX0UeQo-JOhmA0EceCZbLW2fYhElDZEJ_FRDukfuxyWosmZoVxNsN6C7-FTnEjLdODRZamEXpiCly7vBwyElHKpfnUVYuR/s1713/penny-berens-15-in-the-midd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1713" data-original-width="1500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMj5qVEbtaDNS1tBQa1fKiJvDdVyOg7ea21OWduyY-jiysvKXX0UeQo-JOhmA0EceCZbLW2fYhElDZEJ_FRDukfuxyWosmZoVxNsN6C7-FTnEjLdODRZamEXpiCly7vBwyElHKpfnUVYuR/w350-h400/penny-berens-15-in-the-midd.jpg" width="350" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking With Dogs<br />plant dyes on silk, cotton, wool<br />hand stitched 53 x 12 inches x 2 panels, 2021<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Currently on display until December 18, 2021, the venue for this exhibition is a unique heritage building. The <a href="https://mvtm.ca/mvt2/event-page/cloth-of-time/">Mississippi Valley Textile Museum </a>used to be a woolen mill, located in the small Ontario town of Almonte and the waterfall that powered the old mill still flows through this town. Please note that the walls behind many of Penny's wall pieces are original to this mill. Like most textile art, it is nice to see details. Please visit oPenny's <a href="https://tanglewoodthreads.blogspot.com/">Tanglewoods Thread</a> blog or instagram to see close ups of Penny's work. </div><div><br /></div><div>In The Middle Of The World is a two person exhibition with <a href="https://www.judithemartin.com/">Judy Martin</a>, guest curated by our dedicated young freelance curator, <a href="https://algomatrad.ca/2018/08/miranda-bouchard/">Miranda Bouchard. </a> A post about Judy's work in the exhibition is on Judy's Updates, <a href="http://judys-exhibitions.blogspot.com/2021/10/in-middle-of-world.html">click here</a></div></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-24063354229070287722021-03-01T22:11:00.055-05:002021-03-03T09:52:44.461-05:00Lawrence Carroll<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPele-DL_zQRnY58uW_OcDypO08i9F2dFM1fcrf7hXOWuSnHRsBTidbNa-WpU5KGlg7UQGGTQS4HtwALEyMDKjyKBIUlrBz-qxcNfWSHvfqDjXZVVpJN0weurwupDo340tJhKzjl7x28zH/s1600/lawrence-carroll-Tom-1985-86.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPele-DL_zQRnY58uW_OcDypO08i9F2dFM1fcrf7hXOWuSnHRsBTidbNa-WpU5KGlg7UQGGTQS4HtwALEyMDKjyKBIUlrBz-qxcNfWSHvfqDjXZVVpJN0weurwupDo340tJhKzjl7x28zH/w300-h400/lawrence-carroll-Tom-1985-86.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom <br />1985-86 oil, canvas, wood, wax, staples<br /> 13" x 10.5" x 6" </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_miHtH487Oic6YKAIEttIiXnuSyxgs8Tt6eucJPvsBZAWfRF_JCe0QgS7Hx36WHRmNp01qTjfzT-fxSbDtJboqgbi3zZKrz6j_q7G2qLjgSXSY8carjPXyqAaGMDy7eg5Q3vjGy9o4C2U/s1779/lawrence-carroll-untitled-1985.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1779" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_miHtH487Oic6YKAIEttIiXnuSyxgs8Tt6eucJPvsBZAWfRF_JCe0QgS7Hx36WHRmNp01qTjfzT-fxSbDtJboqgbi3zZKrz6j_q7G2qLjgSXSY8carjPXyqAaGMDy7eg5Q3vjGy9o4C2U/w270-h400/lawrence-carroll-untitled-1985.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Untitled<br /> 1985 oil,, wax, canvas on wood<br />18" x 10" </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOW6KHvMeqfnxUR8XeNI9of-UCX358ULppmf6ILW2M-zfR80-iJxvrUnPB5cA7Wr0I3xGkwAjPH0fFU0oAJx2raSIExgPE6IYzBlP0CxMUtzreiwm4tiReqlxSg9q1gMV1sFcwEhrJ-r_/s1600/lawrence-carroll-Penance-1987-88.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOW6KHvMeqfnxUR8XeNI9of-UCX358ULppmf6ILW2M-zfR80-iJxvrUnPB5cA7Wr0I3xGkwAjPH0fFU0oAJx2raSIExgPE6IYzBlP0CxMUtzreiwm4tiReqlxSg9q1gMV1sFcwEhrJ-r_/w300-h400/lawrence-carroll-Penance-1987-88.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penance <br />1987-88 oil, wax, canvas, staples on wood <br /> 9" x 9" x 7.6"</td></tr></tbody></table>I was painting thin pieces of paper with black house paint that I would place on the white canvas. I used staples because it allowed me to remove the painted lines and shapes if I was not satisfied, altering the composition as needed.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhyphenhyphen73OzH4tYEaTwNXo4iFiWIxcXU2Qt3NzinKbnZPqRb7IgX5IpEY9OQHDGD9ac6JWfrFgCaRohVS9g1oucS2ZxY1oCG1oc4QpdwfWhq7sD8uMY3EW_9O4OeZBKFgNwIGDIBjZggKMG2Q/s1600/lawrence-carroll-breathing-In-1988-89-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkhyphenhyphen73OzH4tYEaTwNXo4iFiWIxcXU2Qt3NzinKbnZPqRb7IgX5IpEY9OQHDGD9ac6JWfrFgCaRohVS9g1oucS2ZxY1oCG1oc4QpdwfWhq7sD8uMY3EW_9O4OeZBKFgNwIGDIBjZggKMG2Q/w300-h400/lawrence-carroll-breathing-In-1988-89-2.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breathing In<br />1988 89 oil, wax and paper collage on canvas on wood<br /> 12" x 11" x 10"</td></tr></tbody></table>Yes, like Matisse at the end of his beautiful life. This was before I started cutting my paintings apart and using wax and other things. <p></p><p>I was looking at <a href="https://minimalissimo.com/archive/2009/donald-judd">Donald Judd</a>. I was interested in the way that his wall and floor sculptures would come out of the wall and into the space.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLy5Q6rSY3R2GNeRM5MzbaWYjWEjuspj7QsQshPHMDTjZ11TCI6D_zKjt-EBuycJN4X-_4Z2cq_eml5pt3i5d7dBFB5flkJgjjalBAIzyM1MIQJV7adZ9O6wu19eIQ7r2D73bGz5dz2L9/s1666/lawrence-carroll-Dependance-1990.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1666" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioLy5Q6rSY3R2GNeRM5MzbaWYjWEjuspj7QsQshPHMDTjZ11TCI6D_zKjt-EBuycJN4X-_4Z2cq_eml5pt3i5d7dBFB5flkJgjjalBAIzyM1MIQJV7adZ9O6wu19eIQ7r2D73bGz5dz2L9/w288-h400/lawrence-carroll-Dependance-1990.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dependence<br />1990 oil wax, staples, canvas, wood<br />33" x 15" x 10"</td></tr></tbody></table>This physical relationship between the work and the viewer started to influence how I started to think about my painting.<p></p><p>It slowed down the viewer.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09Qwgdw0-uNroRr_A-J20nrPZJRWtWQgHuTg_EUnEZHsxog369Wfm3729geGXwroRMqxbsZaKVED9xmPehCNpQmLd6un_cXEgwY7AunpIRqolsFfXrZYKDgfvcXi0HlSyN9X0OHW2j-QY/s1537/lawrence-carroll-Heaven-Picasso-1994-95.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1537" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09Qwgdw0-uNroRr_A-J20nrPZJRWtWQgHuTg_EUnEZHsxog369Wfm3729geGXwroRMqxbsZaKVED9xmPehCNpQmLd6un_cXEgwY7AunpIRqolsFfXrZYKDgfvcXi0HlSyN9X0OHW2j-QY/w313-h400/lawrence-carroll-Heaven-Picasso-1994-95.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heaven Picasso <br />1994-95 oil wax house paint newspaper, canvas on wood<br />55" x 42" x 3"</td></tr></tbody></table>You could not see the painting entirely in one view. <p></p><p>You could not grasp it.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38cF-cankXW6le1j5veJzMEn3km-_RiQ6lsvgd9GOE3W3Ul1_uuOm7HyoRG2ktbW-fMK2xWaC-3uKnAIVASXs8E0p315VjtBWUo7GV1NVxU5EDnrGBy3jupx4s7iq0z_UrAHYQDOvmXh8/s1708/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2017-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1708" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38cF-cankXW6le1j5veJzMEn3km-_RiQ6lsvgd9GOE3W3Ul1_uuOm7HyoRG2ktbW-fMK2xWaC-3uKnAIVASXs8E0p315VjtBWUo7GV1NVxU5EDnrGBy3jupx4s7iq0z_UrAHYQDOvmXh8/w281-h400/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2017-2.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Untitled<br />2017 oil, wax, staples, canvas on wood<br />19" x 1/2" x 11"</td></tr></tbody></table>It added psychology to looking. It opened up a world to me.<p></p><p>I looked at <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/andre-equivalent-viii-t01534">Carl Andre</a> too - How and where to place the painting and how the placement changes the psychology of an entire room.</p><p>I felt I had everything.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSggZNFXZmLlrS-9-t1zgYmFJmZf-d5EeUVJSP-1EdgfvCx5b3vI2wTgX_qKF-O-jarN3VktPvH4CefBwteAyLaWFWtC4Gdyhe5tmnu9S8rrz2xBfa5g2TMD1pCWONw2uZN4ULTjnrLQoU/s1200/lawrence-carroll.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1200" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSggZNFXZmLlrS-9-t1zgYmFJmZf-d5EeUVJSP-1EdgfvCx5b3vI2wTgX_qKF-O-jarN3VktPvH4CefBwteAyLaWFWtC4Gdyhe5tmnu9S8rrz2xBfa5g2TMD1pCWONw2uZN4ULTjnrLQoU/w400-h306/lawrence-carroll.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">installation at museo vincenzo vela in 2017</td></tr></tbody></table>I thought of the canvas as a skin and wax as an ointment<p></p><p>and that there was a body of memory under the skin where things were buried for years and then for some reason they reappeared.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BFhRKpNyzf5E1LLArX0yNzThULXSZLCYo8xb8ffTr96AjdIP9IzyOxbq1rzRD1SqZwC3I1XCTA2griH1B8HtTqRL5j1x53k8vT2LbwK7t4N02NbKfxWpPENtrKxGb7_uY4Fmp-NLl0lK/s1200/lawrence-carroll-I-Have-Longed-To-Move-Away-works-1985--2017.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="847" data-original-width="1200" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BFhRKpNyzf5E1LLArX0yNzThULXSZLCYo8xb8ffTr96AjdIP9IzyOxbq1rzRD1SqZwC3I1XCTA2griH1B8HtTqRL5j1x53k8vT2LbwK7t4N02NbKfxWpPENtrKxGb7_uY4Fmp-NLl0lK/w400-h283/lawrence-carroll-I-Have-Longed-To-Move-Away-works-1985--2017.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lawrence Carroll <br />I Have Longed to Move Away works 1985-2017<br />edited by Gianna A. Mina</td></tr></tbody></table>I started to think about cutting a painting completely apart.<p></p><p>And then about the futility of trying to put something that was once whole back together again, exposing all its imperfections. </p><p>There was the revelation. Painting does not have to be perfect</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbaR2H1ZsaKCZ2_VqFyuUKHoTu2nB_Xm6J0RNb9hzBUbBi5G8crIOvwvzh06rJyQtOlouDw28yFq-4yLq9sZfX5EFYF9u1J8saPYRR1ZtzctLVw13d_y26_3ht4h0iXHHR5WVhKFNT9bs/s1200/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2017.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="972" data-original-width="1200" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTbaR2H1ZsaKCZ2_VqFyuUKHoTu2nB_Xm6J0RNb9hzBUbBi5G8crIOvwvzh06rJyQtOlouDw28yFq-4yLq9sZfX5EFYF9u1J8saPYRR1ZtzctLVw13d_y26_3ht4h0iXHHR5WVhKFNT9bs/w400-h324/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2017.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled 2017 <br />house paint and wax on canvas<br />19" x 19" 16"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Paintings can be flawed and vulnerable and imperfect and human.<p></p><p>Maybe my paintings are about my broken life.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwG88hJHNapsjlUMDAbH4GOGrFCzCfjnFvvFMJzxpyHPipt_7_objiegFVTKUszz3YpNZuT6KtpHh27-tA3GrW5cRtLeBWXeXHALfK2wzdWqPZGcVKm_6C1eiL0sxlAMyenbIYrYDqlItZ/s1200/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016-17-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwG88hJHNapsjlUMDAbH4GOGrFCzCfjnFvvFMJzxpyHPipt_7_objiegFVTKUszz3YpNZuT6KtpHh27-tA3GrW5cRtLeBWXeXHALfK2wzdWqPZGcVKm_6C1eiL0sxlAMyenbIYrYDqlItZ/w400-h300/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016-17-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled<br />2016 - 17 stain, house paint, wood pieces, canvas on wood <br />67.7" x 108" x 1.5"</td></tr></tbody></table>And that I'm trying to piece my life back together.<p></p><p>At certain times in your life, things appear. Things come.</p><p>You look back on your life and examine it.</p><p>Last night I thought of different possibilities of what some of my paintings could be about and it shook me.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbiHjxYz1zv8B2F_Q3JIiDmryXcyBHutkofuxxw8UJ-fkqqNCJ-aTUvx83tzYuKXVpkcX4VNTpGn6z9TGRcexapo3_thyHpV4dSS-v6G0ovcv8vQ7bTiHGEpfRsOMfxWHHa4KMaMMW7fk/s1609/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016-17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1609" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbiHjxYz1zv8B2F_Q3JIiDmryXcyBHutkofuxxw8UJ-fkqqNCJ-aTUvx83tzYuKXVpkcX4VNTpGn6z9TGRcexapo3_thyHpV4dSS-v6G0ovcv8vQ7bTiHGEpfRsOMfxWHHa4KMaMMW7fk/w299-h400/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016-17.jpg" width="299" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled <br />stain, house paint, wood pieces, canvas on wood<br />118" x 75" x 1.5"<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>It's impossible for me to always know and understand exactly what I'm doing.<p></p><p>I need time and distance.</p><p>The gift that I have been given is to be able to explore these things and to give comfort to myself in knowing that I have a place to express things that some people may bury inside themselves and carry away with them all through their lives.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpVQdUhxJ0mAYaVZ_LPIQdEFNAYRUBd3NrWR0ylrxpzMnzgigOdtbEXTCpxfTVLWDwGWXPk_94EU0stiCa-MD-NtLPdtkhK9ZzsUoq634m9AqAJe8NUoZJDI1MWB-S7Bid00KZxe7zBKy/s1541/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1541" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpVQdUhxJ0mAYaVZ_LPIQdEFNAYRUBd3NrWR0ylrxpzMnzgigOdtbEXTCpxfTVLWDwGWXPk_94EU0stiCa-MD-NtLPdtkhK9ZzsUoq634m9AqAJe8NUoZJDI1MWB-S7Bid00KZxe7zBKy/w311-h400/lawrence-carroll-untitled-2016.jpg" width="311" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled <br />oil, wax, house paint ,staples, canvas on wood<br />114" x 85" x 4" </td></tr></tbody></table>I like the idea that the painting can convey some of life's weight.<p></p><p>We all carry the weight of an imperfect life, some far greater than others.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdrRgWDdJe1kTJWzebCd8Oe2nYPpUFaA6Jfq11AgSPzkbxgA0p2RefM93tNqALWBUlRE0mLj1H-SfiaO70AHWZ6nD7lsQKTQgtWcLYeQM_vhH73BtngogIAoGtxkMBT9mUo5iKRAU4EVf/s1200/lawrence-carroll-installation-2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1195" data-original-width="1200" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdrRgWDdJe1kTJWzebCd8Oe2nYPpUFaA6Jfq11AgSPzkbxgA0p2RefM93tNqALWBUlRE0mLj1H-SfiaO70AHWZ6nD7lsQKTQgtWcLYeQM_vhH73BtngogIAoGtxkMBT9mUo5iKRAU4EVf/w400-h399/lawrence-carroll-installation-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lawrence Carroll<br />I Have Longed To Move Away<br />Installation in Museo Vincenzo Vela, Switzerland</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>So what do you expose? You have to risk. You can't hide. <a href="https://hyperallergic.com/502959/remembering-lawrence-carroll-an-american-artist-in-europe/">Lawrence Carroll 1954 - 2019</a></p><p><br /></p><p>All text is from a Lawrence Carroll's interview with Barbara Catoir, entitled "Carry On the Light" . </p><p>It is in the catalogue of the exhibition <i>I Have Longed to Move Away</i> which was curated by Roberto Borghi for the Museo Vincenzo Vela in Switzerland during the spring of 2017.</p></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-79976457849948399792020-11-09T13:35:00.010-05:002020-11-20T18:34:14.449-05:00Meryl McMaster<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPotTAosyFagqk8Fus1M39NJKCcAWwl_lpzkNpFOaqW8H3_1R0nW26rDbllfTlF-2DQDeu3k0x78qVi91yFzQzDT39GwAm1Hs7OM7eDXb9QuYRcHYUPmHHUUTM6KiskQH3iQeVtr9UyL7V/s1024/8--Harbinger-of-Sudden-Departures-Variation-II.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPotTAosyFagqk8Fus1M39NJKCcAWwl_lpzkNpFOaqW8H3_1R0nW26rDbllfTlF-2DQDeu3k0x78qVi91yFzQzDT39GwAm1Hs7OM7eDXb9QuYRcHYUPmHHUUTM6KiskQH3iQeVtr9UyL7V/w400-h266/8--Harbinger-of-Sudden-Departures-Variation-II.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harbinger of Sudden Departures 2015<br />chromogenic print, 24" x 36" by Meryl McMaster<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Meryl McMaster's is telling a story that has no ending, perhaps no plot. She creates evocative costumes and props, many involving birds, and then has photos taken of herself wearing them in the cold and simple palette of a Canadian winter. They resemble drawings, or maybe movies, or maybe dreams. <div>Her father is from Red Pheasant First Nation (Plains Cree) and a member of the Siksika First Nation (Blackfoot) and her mother is Euro-Canadian (British and Dutch heritage). While she explores the cultures that form her with her art, it is not a stretch to see the larger struggle of Canada's history in her work. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZ6IErldShT9mLXBIGOwgnxMsW0QSD9bkLM5G2LxApr6k8jidLWxGmfpg34thiBZHcyj85UAtLeSp_Eb3TPWFjazMILq1LtHQM1AtMrf5-5HMelq1XVsTv0LyZFyhYdqYAh1gulsp-bEW/s1829/1-Aphoristic-Currents.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="1829" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZ6IErldShT9mLXBIGOwgnxMsW0QSD9bkLM5G2LxApr6k8jidLWxGmfpg34thiBZHcyj85UAtLeSp_Eb3TPWFjazMILq1LtHQM1AtMrf5-5HMelq1XVsTv0LyZFyhYdqYAh1gulsp-bEW/w400-h266/1-Aphoristic-Currents.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aphoristic Currents 2013<br />chromagenic print 36 x 50" by Meryl McMaster<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: right;"></p>Both her parents are artists, and her childhood home was a very creative space to grow up in. <i>"I was an only child and was often on my own. I think my current imaginative state reaches back to those moments when I was exploring the world through role playing and creating scenarios."</i> Her parents had put together a dress-up trunk of old clothes for her, and although she was shy and avoided performing in school theatre, she was attracted to set and costume designs. Even today she feels vulnerable when she performs for the camera. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulQYubF559AvqTZmWusTJqdGxvoAbPnQWQhpqyZoiTjHeMCq-oond6Iu0UhAiPP4ZjGDAewf9V0CEXukRGL3myRp6zb057ItW9EKxLNqD6f5X1WPnIXMtadv84Warw_wXCBiVVbiC_GAS/s2048/Murmur-I.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulQYubF559AvqTZmWusTJqdGxvoAbPnQWQhpqyZoiTjHeMCq-oond6Iu0UhAiPP4ZjGDAewf9V0CEXukRGL3myRp6zb057ItW9EKxLNqD6f5X1WPnIXMtadv84Warw_wXCBiVVbiC_GAS/w424-h640/Murmur-I.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murmur I 2013<br />inkjet print 90 x 60" by Meryl McMaster</td></tr></tbody></table><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>"I think the need to understand who you are and where you've come from is normal. My parents were always telling stories about their families. When I was very young the feeling I got was that the two cultures were inclusive, but when I reached school age the harder questions about my two cultures became evident."</i></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAVzZms_C5W2ALngOGR-9rox4tJpXsdPcDsLBoBaphYIMRVoZRA-9FRRxcCBc44GWjna48tbyJx2A1nlc916DWaVYT9JJm515G4NdRdRSC4Z1PiL1Hiczg3b6EMUk_Xzemvnk4EjnYM7K/s1024/Avian-Wanderer-II.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAVzZms_C5W2ALngOGR-9rox4tJpXsdPcDsLBoBaphYIMRVoZRA-9FRRxcCBc44GWjna48tbyJx2A1nlc916DWaVYT9JJm515G4NdRdRSC4Z1PiL1Hiczg3b6EMUk_Xzemvnk4EjnYM7K/w400-h266/Avian-Wanderer-II.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avian Wanderer II 2015<br />Giclee print 20 x 30" by Meryl McMaster</td></tr></tbody></table><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Her performed photographs show us characters who embody attitudes - she calls them temperaments.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKe1oI1K92f5eGnogKGqbq8mTIJczbGt4jdBSofyUQ2EuFYr_lrwzJXjjKBR5mte0cxxOMsje_WFa2ZjVqt4AY2lfNAMspzYT9PszjulumVnTQALBynNo90K3DyjAImBtKv6p3-u97EOg/s1024/Times-Gravity.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKe1oI1K92f5eGnogKGqbq8mTIJczbGt4jdBSofyUQ2EuFYr_lrwzJXjjKBR5mte0cxxOMsje_WFa2ZjVqt4AY2lfNAMspzYT9PszjulumVnTQALBynNo90K3DyjAImBtKv6p3-u97EOg/w400-h266/Times-Gravity.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time's Gravity 2015<br />pigment print on watercolour paper 30 x 45"</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>About Time's Gravity: <i>"I came across the tradition of "winter counts'. Winter counts are drawings, usually made on a hide, that represent a significant thing that occurred in the past year, whether a successful hunt or some sort of battle. They are very beautiful, simple drawings with a lot of meaning. I wanted to do my own winter counts, so I made all these journals. Each journal represents a year that I had been alive. So I have all these journals representing the story of my life and thoughts, and I'm holding them. I'm trying to hold onto these memories and I push them together to hold onto them. Time's Gravity, the title, references how I think about life. It goes so fast, but it feels like such a weight and it's too much to even think about."</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmiTPXYBxc37TRpzhvDwbcDcP1fANJlnRdK-7MVKXn7lZEfRog8fkuAJlbn_ugB9pWvO950d82NWoRC32ER7cLcJUZVT02TCqEu771NYgkgZ05_iite-lCeyj3TXVBYeggAv7vgkOShOAK/s2000/Phantom-Silence.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="2000" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmiTPXYBxc37TRpzhvDwbcDcP1fANJlnRdK-7MVKXn7lZEfRog8fkuAJlbn_ugB9pWvO950d82NWoRC32ER7cLcJUZVT02TCqEu771NYgkgZ05_iite-lCeyj3TXVBYeggAv7vgkOShOAK/w400-h115/Phantom-Silence.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phantom Science 2015<br />ink jet print 18 x 62"</td></tr></tbody></table><div><i><br /></i></div><div>She paints her face, sometimes red, sometimes white, sometimes dotted. </div><div><p>She gazes away from the camera. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cgNCLiAr-69jdw4CKbvuOmn66QbOJZEUZu23estoIoa1YyISsD8NtWXjY1R_z0jfM294NJxkrJzdsq7rc9pTf4MXCrHPj2tqQ28Rm3114xUoYQLkYVkstO405ZHL6iks-SZgE4fljETe/s1024/Dream-Catcher.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="1024" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cgNCLiAr-69jdw4CKbvuOmn66QbOJZEUZu23estoIoa1YyISsD8NtWXjY1R_z0jfM294NJxkrJzdsq7rc9pTf4MXCrHPj2tqQ28Rm3114xUoYQLkYVkstO405ZHL6iks-SZgE4fljETe/w400-h194/Dream-Catcher.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dream catcher 2015<br />ink jet print 32 x 66"</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>"I use winter a lot. It feels like a magical time. Everything is frozen; it feels like it's being held in that moment. It's like sleeping. There is also the solitude. When I go on winter walks, I feel like I do a lot more reflection than on my summer wlaks. Winter is also a hostile time. It brings an urgency to the images. I push myself. I have been in quite a lot of pain in my fingers, toes, and extremities from being out in the cold too long. But I keep going back to winter. There's something about that time of year." </i></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOmkaNeJknjeZ661237yVqR9TMT0Gp_hALdWfc729NvCgkVNyeIVCkmQaWSnv0-yKNSBhaakSnosh3uYXXjtTLzJafU6S302cusSLehwex8Ic796fmYHs8WCy2jZTZ1jq5HfRXN5OvlBG/s1024/Under-the-Infinite-Sky.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOmkaNeJknjeZ661237yVqR9TMT0Gp_hALdWfc729NvCgkVNyeIVCkmQaWSnv0-yKNSBhaakSnosh3uYXXjtTLzJafU6S302cusSLehwex8Ic796fmYHs8WCy2jZTZ1jq5HfRXN5OvlBG/w400-h266/Under-the-Infinite-Sky.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">under the infinite sky 2015<br />ink jet print 30 x 45 "</td></tr></tbody></table><p><i>There are always gaps and biases in our relatioinship to the past, and it was through my art that I could explore and expose them. It was a way of creating a conversation with myself as well as with other people. First of all, it comes from a very personal place. Most of us have a mixed background, so we're all asking similar self-directed questions. I've learned that my two different heritages are not always going to completely align, and in order to move forward I have to celebrate those differences." </i></p></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfmYsv7Rdl7-sxfw_pUPqJGd7nC9f6GVh8HqIe4T-BRu5wVrZVO1idNvZbVAvZ5JyjWCCqDp1ZaRLQLQlEBNFSe3BkWEQqrnsTph_WKDpdhxQo7TSbft1guHK9ssjGXgaJXWIQRR7kYE6/s1562/meryl-mcmaster-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1562" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfmYsv7Rdl7-sxfw_pUPqJGd7nC9f6GVh8HqIe4T-BRu5wVrZVO1idNvZbVAvZ5JyjWCCqDp1ZaRLQLQlEBNFSe3BkWEQqrnsTph_WKDpdhxQo7TSbft1guHK9ssjGXgaJXWIQRR7kYE6/w306-h400/meryl-mcmaster-2.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><p><i>"In my teens I was learning about Canada's difficult past, a past that could have involved my own ancestors. So if I wanted to be proud of my mothers' family and connected to my European roots, I realized I might be abandoning my Indigenous side. It was as if I was involved in some kind of betrayal. I struggled with how to acknowledge and be present in both sides of myself." </i></p><p>Sources for these images and text: </p><p><a href="https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/picturing-the-red-line" target="_blank">Picturing the Red Line</a>, An Interview with Meryl McmMaster by Robert Enright in Border Crossings magazine in 2018 and <a href="https://www.richmondartgallery.org/confluence/" target="_blank">Confluence</a>, the exhibition catalogue for Meryl McMaster's solo exhibition curated by Heather Anderson in 2016. All italics are quotes by the artist, Meryl McMaster.</p><p>Although it is interesting to find out about the artist's personal background, it is possible to respond to her images without knowing the back-story. </p><p><a href="https://ryersonimagecentre.ca/exhibition/meryl-mcmaster-as-immense-as-the-sky/" target="_blank">As Immense As The Sky</a> is a more recent exhibition, (catalogue available) </p></div></div>Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-27999490246568305932020-07-14T00:56:00.002-04:002020-07-15T20:11:17.954-04:00Nancy Paul: Time/Lines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIn3VsPe3q4nkSS6jbwEDli_-m_Vt8te2HhRyHEpmhU92le5NN6bkubFVFXvgz9EtLY5mfLffiKpdKL9b5O1yn28fUusbaNsia2cGDJ6V0aXH-RshTFTMzt3Ez7ETQ18cap6XnSIkYYCqD/s1600/sleeping-medusa-1_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="1100" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIn3VsPe3q4nkSS6jbwEDli_-m_Vt8te2HhRyHEpmhU92le5NN6bkubFVFXvgz9EtLY5mfLffiKpdKL9b5O1yn28fUusbaNsia2cGDJ6V0aXH-RshTFTMzt3Ez7ETQ18cap6XnSIkYYCqD/w400-h271/sleeping-medusa-1_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer (Sleeping Medusa) by Nancy Paul, Oil, acrylic, conte, 29 x 43" 1980-2020 </td></tr>
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Despite overwhelming evidence of crises<br />
from climate change to social injustice to pandemic<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfuLL2uyX9iKPmViScuZqMLznNNQSFvELamTrvw-sTLtUGjdKK00rNZ4VBD9D_jZPosCXGA8qtH4XmLMDtffrSfXa3_fAsW6ouumqcjBNk1z_QV96ZJC8v-ERkgnYTzicskqgfsGO_jvPW/s1600/longing_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="566" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfuLL2uyX9iKPmViScuZqMLznNNQSFvELamTrvw-sTLtUGjdKK00rNZ4VBD9D_jZPosCXGA8qtH4XmLMDtffrSfXa3_fAsW6ouumqcjBNk1z_QV96ZJC8v-ERkgnYTzicskqgfsGO_jvPW/s400/longing_orig.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Longing by Nancy Paul, acrylic and graphite on paper, mounted onto birch panel, 9 x 12 inches, 2020</td></tr>
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many governments around the world seem unable/unwilling to act<br />
even as democracy is under threat and truth-telling stifled.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DBB6bIh76zUh36Yvp6Vg85pYuJZSCHEVhb-etTa8irzJtUkagzqPRfAWp7HfNYL1DahorbiJ89XXXvPElNHbiDquySVhNwio5a5jv3QxMG4KY5XxUZgFoavd0yCkp-6ibZ7EVOxFJF_9/s1600/setting_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="610" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DBB6bIh76zUh36Yvp6Vg85pYuJZSCHEVhb-etTa8irzJtUkagzqPRfAWp7HfNYL1DahorbiJ89XXXvPElNHbiDquySVhNwio5a5jv3QxMG4KY5XxUZgFoavd0yCkp-6ibZ7EVOxFJF_9/s400/setting_orig.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Setting</i> by Nancy Paul, acrylic and graphic on paper, mounted on birch panel, 14 x18", 2020</td></tr>
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Individuals feel powerless to effect change.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBaWq6bkS2dftmXrhoI1XXO75G7Xfh6LKgyRbf51IfUJ14c5GhhJ42cxP-_q0A43lnhiIDaDBiIHcOYaBAUlxQPt0kbtAosKOi8iJfVbhkmxmQh4cPzj0CfILv1SbiijRTX_vH_-2uWlJ/s1600/the-dreamer_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="599" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBaWq6bkS2dftmXrhoI1XXO75G7Xfh6LKgyRbf51IfUJ14c5GhhJ42cxP-_q0A43lnhiIDaDBiIHcOYaBAUlxQPt0kbtAosKOi8iJfVbhkmxmQh4cPzj0CfILv1SbiijRTX_vH_-2uWlJ/s400/the-dreamer_orig.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dreamer by Nancy Paul, acrylic and graphite mounted on birch panel, 2020</td></tr>
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As Shakespear's Lear knows,<br />
the naked body is an enduring symbol of human vulnerability and helplessness.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3kEuyRhFb0sxSqtWGrEPbPFScwnCpCTa_qWz22wFYWpk2UPN3CaQcJAPPoc-pIHsKPb8vhYPAF428WUAykhNCE1yQka_6K4uKWqHngzRop4W5UnJkz1EO977AxzBa9yN0d19rW4f04a63/s1600/sitting-back_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="955" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3kEuyRhFb0sxSqtWGrEPbPFScwnCpCTa_qWz22wFYWpk2UPN3CaQcJAPPoc-pIHsKPb8vhYPAF428WUAykhNCE1yQka_6K4uKWqHngzRop4W5UnJkz1EO977AxzBa9yN0d19rW4f04a63/s400/sitting-back_orig.jpg" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting Back by Nancy Paul, acrylic and graphite on paper, 12 x 16 inches, 2020</td></tr>
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It can also, however, represent beauty, grace, and love;<br />
an aesthetic of salvation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3k0txkbLfIWF8XKSAb5kXzp5K92cfRWrGNbHcJYzwaCIoTAQToW8tgMZjg5Vx5KWofKwLPd2KmV5kL98qK3rDXDcTd-Nkn_nkGVGWUvG00ZYjNQ_ymbkgNf-apy8soGQtmyGWRnEkZC7/s1600/slowing-down_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1085" data-original-width="901" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3k0txkbLfIWF8XKSAb5kXzp5K92cfRWrGNbHcJYzwaCIoTAQToW8tgMZjg5Vx5KWofKwLPd2KmV5kL98qK3rDXDcTd-Nkn_nkGVGWUvG00ZYjNQ_ymbkgNf-apy8soGQtmyGWRnEkZC7/s400/slowing-down_orig.jpg" width="331" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slowing Down by Nancy Paul, graphic on paper mounted on birch panel, 10 x 12 inches, 2020</td></tr>
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The nude for me is at once surrogate seeker of truth and object of scrutiny.<br />
In my work the female figure is both self and other;<br />
she represents communication and compassion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDPoPTbrW37IE9ogqQ6x4XAlDumL2eLUrZ5GVqyUyyUXI-ZCA9CsLP_V4yO7PI2I-vzy32hZOtvmmg883qckXZ3eZF1sTz_SQaxrb8Q93kAExUu6ja-nUMC9T8SC8uQKj085XxW_G311o/s1600/green-world_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="913" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDPoPTbrW37IE9ogqQ6x4XAlDumL2eLUrZ5GVqyUyyUXI-ZCA9CsLP_V4yO7PI2I-vzy32hZOtvmmg883qckXZ3eZF1sTz_SQaxrb8Q93kAExUu6ja-nUMC9T8SC8uQKj085XxW_G311o/w400-h350/green-world_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green World (Arden Spring) by Nancy Paul acrylic, graphic, ink on canvas, 28 x 32" 2019</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
"Time/Lines" is about our search for understanding.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJnX4QH6p1s-oEK4NCDqWK6Q7U8MKiqGGvDgxAvgw3BGZ49WDMPkspI0LyOUKcC-LZeflyB-7vsriO5F-bKkUz-nZrqJcb0uJWQDCp1gDtcq83gvtbN5u2USSqIETaIlKbbRei7hcu_Ew/s1600/nereids-endangered_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1067" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJnX4QH6p1s-oEK4NCDqWK6Q7U8MKiqGGvDgxAvgw3BGZ49WDMPkspI0LyOUKcC-LZeflyB-7vsriO5F-bKkUz-nZrqJcb0uJWQDCp1gDtcq83gvtbN5u2USSqIETaIlKbbRei7hcu_Ew/w400-h300/nereids-endangered_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nereids Endangered by Nancy Paul, Acrylic, graphite, Japanese Paper on canvas, 16 x 20 inches, 2018</td></tr>
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In 'Time' large figures lie wrapped in uncertainty while a tiny pair of Nereids explore distant lands and seas; inconspicious, they exemplify the humility needed to connect.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYpJog5sdCZAgBaZv6TQeXsEezEpdST1LzQqviv2-xAFtiXltVMVTEBJYB0jbP6hPY8Zrr7B6-aKA9QGwctjmStclGCg-WNnwsUPl8C6KeApbfwplMMYgr-3qG0shyfjUIYaShDuGpUIxP/s1600/life-lines-sky-lines_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1067" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYpJog5sdCZAgBaZv6TQeXsEezEpdST1LzQqviv2-xAFtiXltVMVTEBJYB0jbP6hPY8Zrr7B6-aKA9QGwctjmStclGCg-WNnwsUPl8C6KeApbfwplMMYgr-3qG0shyfjUIYaShDuGpUIxP/w400-h300/life-lines-sky-lines_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Life Lines/Sky Line</i>s (I, II, III) by Nancy Paul, <br />
acrylic and graphic on paper mounted on birch panel, triptych, each part 12 x 16 x 1.5 inches 2020</td></tr>
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"Lines" celebrates gesture drawings done from life,quick sketches done before longer poses, they have the vitality, purpose, and direction to inspire us now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8ZBMSrr72MafmVrY8zyi-JrdxQrolD8lebKm_HVyD0lR0WgoPYPS7vtBh5fgw6YANDnN1mQfJscObo7bIHkZgROqH7cObawK-L58XHL061x4hjXitPZ8pDf03j0hskWXxHqvhUAVJML-/s1600/fall_orig.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="1100" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8ZBMSrr72MafmVrY8zyi-JrdxQrolD8lebKm_HVyD0lR0WgoPYPS7vtBh5fgw6YANDnN1mQfJscObo7bIHkZgROqH7cObawK-L58XHL061x4hjXitPZ8pDf03j0hskWXxHqvhUAVJML-/w400-h256/fall_orig.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fall </i>by Nancy Paul, Oil on Canvas, 1980, 24" x 36"</td></tr>
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All images and text in this post are by Nancy Paul<br />
from her exhibition at <a href="https://www.artnoise.ca/nancy-paul-show-2020.html">Art Noise Gallery</a>,<br />
Kingston Ontario Canada </div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-54084389573619088622019-10-31T15:52:00.000-04:002019-11-01T00:29:56.300-04:00Lenore Tawney: Mirror of the Universe<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP2PahdWaHZQVH45TB3wFJkVDxRgWSjf9QD2Z0KY04SwOTn5MPA_e59aaParuQKswj3JRdOyKiauucMcZNrObzkcu38vuBRD8YGQBSwIuUNk-p9oLUwdoHXI25S8b_CpBfb6CSpeNkj2D/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP2PahdWaHZQVH45TB3wFJkVDxRgWSjf9QD2Z0KY04SwOTn5MPA_e59aaParuQKswj3JRdOyKiauucMcZNrObzkcu38vuBRD8YGQBSwIuUNk-p9oLUwdoHXI25S8b_CpBfb6CSpeNkj2D/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-13.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Utero 1985 mixed media 25 x 11.5 x 11.5 inches (chair only) Lenore Tawney</td></tr>
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"...<i>to seek a barer life, closer to reality, without all the things that clutter and fill our lives. I left friends whose preconceptions of me held me to their image of me....The truest thing in my life is my work. I want my life to be true. Almost gave up my life for my work, seeking a life of the spirit.</i>"<br />
<div>
Lenore Tawney, 1967 journal entry<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURVHpSx4nriLA7kibqmVzPGwWE3qWSWXt-QC-V5XDPkYdZw4S5xZwnZLzXIQgTRQ8LPmMv87L8qUeDbgKuTpTIiLWN226Es005hSEtw58cNIgJ9dNwrj6Ain6-y9SKHi5a7kf1Kx_lkvB/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="914" data-original-width="1200" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiURVHpSx4nriLA7kibqmVzPGwWE3qWSWXt-QC-V5XDPkYdZw4S5xZwnZLzXIQgTRQ8LPmMv87L8qUeDbgKuTpTIiLWN226Es005hSEtw58cNIgJ9dNwrj6Ain6-y9SKHi5a7kf1Kx_lkvB/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Installation of Lenore Tawney's weaving at <a href="https://www.jmkac.org/">John Michael Kohler Art Centre</a>, Sheboygan Wisconsin. On wall from left to right:<i> Dove</i> 1974 linens 118 x 108 inches, <i>Waters Above the Firmament </i>1976 <i>(small 36 x 36 " version), </i> <i>In Fields of Light</i> 1975 (orange) linens, 108 c 100.5 inches,<i> Little Spring</i> 1962 linen 48 x 23.5", <i>Tau</i>, 1974 linen 80 x 108 inches, Hanging in foreground left to right are:<i> The Megalithic Doorway</i>, 1963 linen 204 x 28 inches,<i> The Path</i>, 1962 linen and gold, 90.5 x 24.5 inches, <i>The Bride</i> 1962 linen and feathers 138 x 15 inches, and in front of Tau is<i> Untitled (Bird</i>) 1963 linen, feathers <br />
and wood 65 x 30 inches.</td></tr>
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"<i>When I was doing the woven forms, I was dancing with joy all the time. They were so spontaneous, I didn't know what they were - they just kept going higher and higher. I thought, No one will ever show these, they're too tall for a gallery.....so I'll keep going" </i> Lenore Tawney<br />
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<tr><td><img border="0" data-original-height="1509" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AWAjWw1xjPegPCZ_PegEWRZp6TRrsTqltxnwVAOXCdN2z1xxkj2_GqTqcQngq82wgVLsdW9v8jsX5hJDbqucSwfKv0YWGd3r04t2j3370xH9wvkL5boVZJDA-jCNH6QYae8jxY9qQ_hH/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-6.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="317" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cloud Labyrinth 1983, canvas and linen 16 x 24 x 18 feet</td></tr>
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An entire gallery at the <a href="https://www.jmkac.org/">John Michael Kohler</a> is devoted to the monumental <i>Cloud Labyrinth, </i> made when the artist was 76 years old.<br />
<br />
<i>"I sometimes think of my work as a breath"</i> LT<br />
<br />
Thread can be woven into shields and cruciforms, it can also be, improbably and delicately, unwoven. A cloud is a visible amassing of solid, liquid and gas, water at its most diffuse. The threads dance and vibrate, shifting the light, tickling the eye. The eye follows the thread up like vapour invisibly evaporating into a cloud and then comes down, a string of droplets, back to earth.<br />
(wall text at JMK art centre)<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPpWxbTmd2KKGwBN2su1fuPT0iuAQQbwdsKnxPfDX7Hp0IRe36MTjDRhIFe1Rv4oxpB5nLFwfEqhH_Q-elnvWkXmkffijt0OxTqbd5Q0NsBCXgvLQzAORXVSpeD1UiY8ArWeTqRi-kvK9/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPpWxbTmd2KKGwBN2su1fuPT0iuAQQbwdsKnxPfDX7Hp0IRe36MTjDRhIFe1Rv4oxpB5nLFwfEqhH_Q-elnvWkXmkffijt0OxTqbd5Q0NsBCXgvLQzAORXVSpeD1UiY8ArWeTqRi-kvK9/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">cloud labyrinth 1983 detail</td></tr>
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<i>"It is impossible to describe the range of expression in this work.</i><br />
<i> </i><i>But it can be said that trembling and sensitive images are brought before our eyes even as we look, and also that deep, and sometimes dark and unrealizezd feelings, are stirred in us. </i><br />
<i>There is penetration.</i><br />
<i>There is an urgency that sweeps us up, </i><br />
<i>an originality and success that holds us in wonder.</i><br />
<i>This work is wholly done" </i> <br />
Agnes Martin <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE9EXCPdBHgnqCEO-9YAAYyXRiWPxQwuU9t91yiLDiF-jy4VpzmjbP5l510M4J4c_LhuxMTyllXrjtaWkG12BeJLQ7_2Ll67nBEwa3HB7flyiTYYFTy3Ii8toierWnNOpRmUsE1jEHjwlo/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="889" data-original-width="1200" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE9EXCPdBHgnqCEO-9YAAYyXRiWPxQwuU9t91yiLDiF-jy4VpzmjbP5l510M4J4c_LhuxMTyllXrjtaWkG12BeJLQ7_2Ll67nBEwa3HB7flyiTYYFTy3Ii8toierWnNOpRmUsE1jEHjwlo/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-16.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">assemblages and collages made by lenore tawney, displayed at the John Michael Kohler art centre</td></tr>
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"<i>You have to forget time entirely, and live in eternal time</i>" Lenore Tawney<br />
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She was 50 when she moved to New York but looked young and passed for 30.<br />
She let time be erased from her life story for a while.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj807boIg02Yt_-RxD7hWJvwPDpmVotLIxD6KOk0ptSs6PfGh70vSahJrT-fjOO55cj1rwQeBBJMsVrfhoU1xvV9AZ_WQYaUGDrxVsFuUhI7p1-3hhfTOhfPmk2J89HWFJDpku1FfZHisYd/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1339" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj807boIg02Yt_-RxD7hWJvwPDpmVotLIxD6KOk0ptSs6PfGh70vSahJrT-fjOO55cj1rwQeBBJMsVrfhoU1xvV9AZ_WQYaUGDrxVsFuUhI7p1-3hhfTOhfPmk2J89HWFJDpku1FfZHisYd/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-12.jpg" width="357" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bach 1967 collage 12.5 x 11/5"</td></tr>
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She operated without assistants until the very end of her life at age 100.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9K0F4pNHVrR_wKJGw4p26Hjm8bSA8yZIVgJXQisHR1eDFVUjgAJLRXKPF8HW0bDVOxz9ZePTt-QXvITtI1OrxgTw5g-xgL5390WA2WpMygK1d4oP3dz5MSG3Mc9K0seM8rD6mm8QJxCfT/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="1200" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9K0F4pNHVrR_wKJGw4p26Hjm8bSA8yZIVgJXQisHR1eDFVUjgAJLRXKPF8HW0bDVOxz9ZePTt-QXvITtI1OrxgTw5g-xgL5390WA2WpMygK1d4oP3dz5MSG3Mc9K0seM8rD6mm8QJxCfT/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-10.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">shelves with objects from Lenore Tawney's New York studio/home</td></tr>
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'<i>The weaving just grows and keeps coming. It's all inside of me.</i><br />
<i>It was really thrilling.</i><br />
<i>I used to sing and dance all by myself there at night. </i><br />
<i>Then I'd get up very early and work all day</i>"<br />
Lenore Tawney<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmBLH2z5OhXTjmzzU1pBoXmTqf8JogzMF39C1YGNE4C8G3unOIrzyV3wFe-xk0xCk5pLxUcbsCBuyE_tyv7F9kskEkbCBw4snD_73thuffVC51SaQlDMSJec5jEXoe1AYWAB6RNN08MY7/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="1200" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmBLH2z5OhXTjmzzU1pBoXmTqf8JogzMF39C1YGNE4C8G3unOIrzyV3wFe-xk0xCk5pLxUcbsCBuyE_tyv7F9kskEkbCBw4snD_73thuffVC51SaQlDMSJec5jEXoe1AYWAB6RNN08MY7/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">egg shells in a basket</td></tr>
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Lenore Tawney's studio is now part of the unique permanent collection of artsts studio/homes that have been transformed into art environments at the John Michael Kohler Art Centre. Until this year the studio's contents were in the care of the <a href="http://lenoretawney.org/">Lenore G Tawney foundation</a> in New York. Kathleen Nugent Mangan, one of Lenore Tawney's close friends is the director. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bV4Qqf0dPIGvE08nWRuEXXzu5D7d9V8z0RJSxcWNKt82Ytwa6Tma8Wv70PrfDJrzYjk_WKsYaElO6i58Z0OQk_IS8g6AY1M7nvHAQuJtlfXkMXEsMiPI-8PtTHFO4Z8hzOb5MdfSml2D/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1102" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bV4Qqf0dPIGvE08nWRuEXXzu5D7d9V8z0RJSxcWNKt82Ytwa6Tma8Wv70PrfDJrzYjk_WKsYaElO6i58Z0OQk_IS8g6AY1M7nvHAQuJtlfXkMXEsMiPI-8PtTHFO4Z8hzOb5MdfSml2D/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-15.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">objects from Lenore Tawney's studio</td></tr>
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<i>"My work is my pleasure. It's my life, it's what I live for." </i> Lenore Tawney<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wojOeeb9GiGpKdmaGc00n0wuQ5GOl-vKD-ab-Ep0RVx7KQPjCSUj30NxQNYQOqfyyHDfBeWIAJ7dNwobz9z4AySthWhlQe0hqpSPLSWanOUroNvrdtaY-9qTzyjf8q1P84uUL5rWM6PA/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wojOeeb9GiGpKdmaGc00n0wuQ5GOl-vKD-ab-Ep0RVx7KQPjCSUj30NxQNYQOqfyyHDfBeWIAJ7dNwobz9z4AySthWhlQe0hqpSPLSWanOUroNvrdtaY-9qTzyjf8q1P84uUL5rWM6PA/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cloud labyrinth detail</td></tr>
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Lenore Tawney transcended any distinction between art and craft.<br />
Her work is an important part of the visual language of 20th century art.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Izc7eK7-yxj9OktlQ2726OkazWdIpTaws6nj_6UnDdruDBbkm9M3ISccBYsSAZqbpYH9Y6QmACJuKxgCFsDpdWFzbxG3xIBZBrskRRXtKEf884WZMsadqmhjfpP0Oq9XNAqcSJoPCYf8/s1600/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1017" data-original-width="1200" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Izc7eK7-yxj9OktlQ2726OkazWdIpTaws6nj_6UnDdruDBbkm9M3ISccBYsSAZqbpYH9Y6QmACJuKxgCFsDpdWFzbxG3xIBZBrskRRXtKEf884WZMsadqmhjfpP0Oq9XNAqcSJoPCYf8/s400/lenore-tawney-mirror-of-universe-7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lenore Tawney's studio detail</td></tr>
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Lenore Tawney's believed that there is no division between art and life, and she created a quiet environment for art making, meditation, yoga, and focusing on the inner, deeply personal world. Tawney is among the most impactful artists of the last half of the 20th century. She dedicated herself to a devotional interdisplinary practice inufused with ideas of Buddhism, Zen philosophy, Jungian psychology, wanderlust and nature. She believed that art making has the potential to usher in a lightness akin to a spiritual awakening. (from the wall text at the <a href="https://www.jmkac.org/">Kohler Art Centre in Wisconsin)</a><br />
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<i>'so new and personal that it does not have a name or classification' (</i>new york times 1963)</div>
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Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-34546027741119264512019-08-26T21:00:00.000-04:002019-08-27T11:46:15.169-04:00April Martin: Harbour Front Centre of Craft and Design Vitrines, Toronto <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">To Lips</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> velvet, brass, porcelain, mirror 2019 by April Martin</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;"><i>April Martin's reflections on the creation of her work in the exhibition Magical Material Thinking June 8 - mid October 2019 make up the text in this post. Photos: Brian Medina. </i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">The six vitrines push out of the wall into the hallway and transform it from a place of making (studios) to made (galleries). I thought about them as their own worlds, next to one another but with completely different atmospheres. All of them feel hot to me, but different kinds of hot. I like imagining opening a kiln in the middle of a firing and seeing the glaze move in ways you do not get to witness.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7JNpkdEMTOUVpjgWkGKJpDjDOnbm2veFaOqFV_OX8Vlpro7maRyEw_ik6hyphenhyphenjAbVyY3X3073yFNoX4J_9TaANk0Xkb75ouA0fYvc2is-AtXDCZddOC-URe0_fl__Z3YwI38BBeCtOzSBL/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-romance-portal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7JNpkdEMTOUVpjgWkGKJpDjDOnbm2veFaOqFV_OX8Vlpro7maRyEw_ik6hyphenhyphenjAbVyY3X3073yFNoX4J_9TaANk0Xkb75ouA0fYvc2is-AtXDCZddOC-URe0_fl__Z3YwI38BBeCtOzSBL/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-romance-portal.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">Romance Portal </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">brass, wax 2019 by April Martin</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">My work is about energy. Embedded unseen, perhaps alive. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">My titles come from the people I love in my life and there are many. I will never not have enough information to sort through or manifest into shapes and these are the ones I made at the end of May, 2019. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">In regard to Romance Portal, s</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">omewhere in my thinking I became obsessed with the idea of a giant wax chandelier. I also thought about t</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">he lost wax process of sculpture and how it veils the fact that the metallic positives we see actually grew out of a suspended moment in wax. I encouraged my first ceramics class to make the tiniest fixings for a Barbie banquet because working small with clay teaches you how your hands react to the wet/dry phenomenon that is ceramics. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">I made the tiny beeswax candles on my stove. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM1mFcDORgA-h8NqeuqGBqwXCZfsyhgpFE2P1ap1X4UIe8V12oX6hzj6RE2cs1TR-YXJ_X8G97Upr44CqFoC4KHfsypKX015xpPM99zUTb5NsWPjTol-FHL83-FWc1_mrFAMd2K4U06JL/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-april-martin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="1200" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM1mFcDORgA-h8NqeuqGBqwXCZfsyhgpFE2P1ap1X4UIe8V12oX6hzj6RE2cs1TR-YXJ_X8G97Upr44CqFoC4KHfsypKX015xpPM99zUTb5NsWPjTol-FHL83-FWc1_mrFAMd2K4U06JL/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-april-martin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">Ideal Solution</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> pewter, cobalt carbonate fired to quartz inversion, earthenware 2019 by April Martin</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 12pt;">My main concern with using pewter (especially salvaged) was that there was a potential for lead content but through research I learned that antimony is now present in pewter as a replacement for lead. Antimony was used in kohl, as a way to darken the eye. </span><br />
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<span lang="EN-CA"><br />I was looking for a solution to keep the ceramic standing up and pewter became </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">my ideal solution, a low fired heavy metal to balance the face I saw in the clay. Knowing that embedded in its metallic shine is a chemical that has been used to blacken eyes for beauty, it felt fitting for me to insert cobalt experiments here, as that black area was achieved unintentionally.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">I think it’s such a privilege to be able to show work, and it’s always so much work to get to the actual showing part, that when you’re in the thick of the install, editing is absolutely key. It’s so hard to keep that part of yourself sharp. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3_BMFBgEC2F4UNjgplssCoNQ8XA57vUInecClB3De5vOJ5AgxiT9py_rS_L6ZbMxuMgsVA9km13HWNQJClyVaks-L3KExlkcN4p2lbdvDzRUk4raZJ7q85S3ePb67oHj9Ez1e9ZwR6-q/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019--brightening-visibly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1443" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3_BMFBgEC2F4UNjgplssCoNQ8XA57vUInecClB3De5vOJ5AgxiT9py_rS_L6ZbMxuMgsVA9km13HWNQJClyVaks-L3KExlkcN4p2lbdvDzRUk4raZJ7q85S3ePb67oHj9Ez1e9ZwR6-q/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019--brightening-visibly.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">Brightening Visibly</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> copper, wool, carbon fiber 2018 by April Martin</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">This vitrine looks the most like the inside of a kiln. It’s lined with thin copper and the constructed plant floats inside, its leaves are copper on one side, wool on the other. It unfolds and peels open towards the bottom and the copper becomes more exposed. Brighter. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">The most recent example of my dad exclaiming his personal idiom (the title for this piece) was when a thrift store near our family cottage was discovered. “April just found out there is a Salvation Army in the closest town?! ... Brightening Visibly!” </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">“Brightening Visibly!” is a poetic reaction to how smiles take over the shape of one’s face. Is a smile bright? It’s definitely a form of communication, often the simplest way to answer a question, and also a more animal response, it beats your brain and tongue to the words that may actually not fit with this visible sheen. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYpSnbi9efsFOcG0XfeWnOXl70I-V8hGFcVqzcXFlbycIVSd7uar4fnWF2Y3ei25sHzOPGTgQC_fB8Sb-Slz0kobq7ozgu63iFg9Xm0XZ5K2rSF-wjxkoRi_wXqWhM1lBNMVqNOpZqb9K/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-rising-libra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYpSnbi9efsFOcG0XfeWnOXl70I-V8hGFcVqzcXFlbycIVSd7uar4fnWF2Y3ei25sHzOPGTgQC_fB8Sb-Slz0kobq7ozgu63iFg9Xm0XZ5K2rSF-wjxkoRi_wXqWhM1lBNMVqNOpZqb9K/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-rising-libra.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">Rising Libra</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> fired and unfired cobalt carbonate, clay 2019 by April Martin</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">I am a Libra rising. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">Rising Libra sounds hotter though. This is a simple structure but the work it’s doing is the most palpable. It’s balancing and it’s fragile and if it fell and broke there would be pink and blue dust everywhere and it would be annoying to clean up but that’s kind of the worst of it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlUObVkmEW3ZMRNqQEZH1Qc0wd5ihAyveUNMuHNxHZUFpG00Db5fFyUaj21Nfq_Dkh94tVrZ8-2uSfyZz5GNqrcs5XEdnWRojfOScuMCDsGBpnsc1If9V4Fan4b8k0X1Ik3tzwyk9KLYu/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-snek-april.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlUObVkmEW3ZMRNqQEZH1Qc0wd5ihAyveUNMuHNxHZUFpG00Db5fFyUaj21Nfq_Dkh94tVrZ8-2uSfyZz5GNqrcs5XEdnWRojfOScuMCDsGBpnsc1If9V4Fan4b8k0X1Ik3tzwyk9KLYu/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-snek-april.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">Snek Out</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> neon, earthenware, unfired cobalt carbonate 2019 by April Martin</span></td></tr>
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O<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">piomancy. Telling the future by snake trails</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA">Lara who lives in LA but is Dutch helped me with the title. We were talking about Snakes, Snacks, Sneks and Slung. I like that snek isn’t really an English word, it’s some form of sneaking and snucking and again it feels like a movement that comes from inside. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCPBGwOQrGMDvMlUd4kCpW4Fgnk0_KxxPh3T2u7S2R7pWSlatOp7m5SYwnx3KOk5VIYexeO8zOybZi_JK2nVcGhXcjwKtDl0NEz_T_ToEOlC6_g6VGF5D6PX7m8qmmQ0_6x0zJfTSRtXk/s1600/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-two-lips-april-detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCPBGwOQrGMDvMlUd4kCpW4Fgnk0_KxxPh3T2u7S2R7pWSlatOp7m5SYwnx3KOk5VIYexeO8zOybZi_JK2nVcGhXcjwKtDl0NEz_T_ToEOlC6_g6VGF5D6PX7m8qmmQ0_6x0zJfTSRtXk/s400/Visual-Arts-Exhibitions---Summer-2019-two-lips-april-detail.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;">To Lips</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.56px;"> velvet, brass, porcelain, mirror 2019 by April Martin (detail)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">It was spring and I had tulips in my house.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">My </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">niece whispered “little bit of romance” to me across my parents dining room table on my birthday. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">More about this exhibition on <a href="https://judys-journal.blogspot.com/2019/08/magical-material-thinking.html">Judy's Journal</a>.</span></div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-8302471868037063112018-09-23T21:31:00.004-04:002020-09-03T18:14:30.236-04:00Yayoi Kusama<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtR_YHoQ3t0lCHJMAF8Rr2KXGwvWMKOX4aXRFJ81sHzRtQUq-l8nIi_arFuq8dxuUkCvDweFb8PvLejZmuz_dvy86ONLNn7zOOP_L8lHVxeT-3kod2VJl-EvuEfwHY8GfnlEpnaODz2SKo/s1600/yayoi-kusama-self-portrait-1950-oil-on-canvas.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1389" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtR_YHoQ3t0lCHJMAF8Rr2KXGwvWMKOX4aXRFJ81sHzRtQUq-l8nIi_arFuq8dxuUkCvDweFb8PvLejZmuz_dvy86ONLNn7zOOP_L8lHVxeT-3kod2VJl-EvuEfwHY8GfnlEpnaODz2SKo/s400/yayoi-kusama-self-portrait-1950-oil-on-canvas.jpg" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">self portrait 1950<br />
oil on canvas 34 x 34 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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It was extraordinary for a woman from a small town in Japanese hinterland to achieve the degree of artistic attention that Yayoi Kusama had at such a young age. She described her early, compulsive art making as a refuge from the frought familial relationships she had. She also said that her art was a retreat from her own psychological symptoms. For Kusama, productivity is crucial to her mental health. This post is about her early work made when she was 23 - 30 years old.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1167" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZdaVCVng_V1sQsQB7y2zBS6NGgVYcKig9U4CN1Fd8Ir5Qosx4i95-tFronPQsLbTJ_ZjHIf74O5MCGY08375Jse_FCsFtB__ikRTD2okAV4VtJW89s9_CduUjiGrrywX8-f-UKDkh3If/s400/yayoi-kusama-island-no.-7-1953.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="342" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island No. 7 1953<br />
watercolour and pastel on paper 30.5 x 26.5 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZdaVCVng_V1sQsQB7y2zBS6NGgVYcKig9U4CN1Fd8Ir5Qosx4i95-tFronPQsLbTJ_ZjHIf74O5MCGY08375Jse_FCsFtB__ikRTD2okAV4VtJW89s9_CduUjiGrrywX8-f-UKDkh3If/s1600/yayoi-kusama-island-no.-7-1953.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZdaVCVng_V1sQsQB7y2zBS6NGgVYcKig9U4CN1Fd8Ir5Qosx4i95-tFronPQsLbTJ_ZjHIf74O5MCGY08375Jse_FCsFtB__ikRTD2okAV4VtJW89s9_CduUjiGrrywX8-f-UKDkh3If/s1600/yayoi-kusama-island-no.-7-1953.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
"I am pursuing art in order to correct the disability which began in my childhood." Y.K..<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaqdJdapf6nExqHBHtP-nHflcve1vskiwc-13ZOk9U5lwAs1kJyZeyPRpq9J-f11gO8PUAkaQqtEBNdB_bqPppMS1ftcK5bGtHkrzpxtKd8vgdBF7pVG8edUHOsJ-XnXmq04I56gsjsvx/s1600/yayoi-kusama-doets-on-the-sunset-1953.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="956" data-original-width="1000" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkaqdJdapf6nExqHBHtP-nHflcve1vskiwc-13ZOk9U5lwAs1kJyZeyPRpq9J-f11gO8PUAkaQqtEBNdB_bqPppMS1ftcK5bGtHkrzpxtKd8vgdBF7pVG8edUHOsJ-XnXmq04I56gsjsvx/s400/yayoi-kusama-doets-on-the-sunset-1953.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dots on the Sun 1953<br />
watercolour and pastel on paper 25 x 26 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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She was born March 22, 1929, the youngest of 4 children. Her family raised seeds in nurseries, and then on December 7, 1941, when she was 12 years old, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour and her country was at war. She had to go work in a parachute and military uniform factory.<br />
<br />
She experimented early with materials and technique and set out to teach herself western style oil painting.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQpnfJPCY4_iUglh84OKTubWo7VzZujqHhSxNWGNyU3jPuv6YhM7sbhDnt2YZSSoI11fpgHRW8EgYVbqSW-_BavV1Vyxbvr3Qc6ngDEIBjUi56J9kqM7v-yKiPUlKKyZBYQkNdKg801rf/s1600/yayoi-kusama-no-8-h-a-p-1956.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1373" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQpnfJPCY4_iUglh84OKTubWo7VzZujqHhSxNWGNyU3jPuv6YhM7sbhDnt2YZSSoI11fpgHRW8EgYVbqSW-_BavV1Vyxbvr3Qc6ngDEIBjUi56J9kqM7v-yKiPUlKKyZBYQkNdKg801rf/s400/yayoi-kusama-no-8-h-a-p-1956.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">no. 8 H.A.P. 1956<br />
oastel, gouache, acrylic on paper 58.4 x 45.7 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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In March 1952, she turned 23, and had her first solo exhibition in her home village of Matsumoto. It consisted of 250 pieces, and then she mounted a second one 7 months later, also in Matsumuoto. She was noticed and offered an exhibition in Tokyo. She had three more exhibitions over the next 13 months in Tokyo.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JLHDWdAgrku1s9ODUMk31xv5v7YLXw6mDznWcZMI9cRE0faQIlzhjH6btmcXpewLJcPENCDMHXxj3y2QYLyD7-Uo0gIcGX_9hyphenhyphenSJPxDq5EPYqhdxwjR81Gb14ITqujA0k_GZcorgqA1z/s1600/yayoi-kusama.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JLHDWdAgrku1s9ODUMk31xv5v7YLXw6mDznWcZMI9cRE0faQIlzhjH6btmcXpewLJcPENCDMHXxj3y2QYLyD7-Uo0gIcGX_9hyphenhyphenSJPxDq5EPYqhdxwjR81Gb14ITqujA0k_GZcorgqA1z/s400/yayoi-kusama.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Her face, like Warhol's, is inseparable from her work.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XNQFB3_5yw_ImmPhtZTQnisvlfSjSldOofYz1M6-MN6zJeKdKXqW5d85hULYEUgPuY_rLObRZv7qD-Ph3qJ-cND2Olw67kxiTi5omnrkFKWDDyPF-af6qQoZfjpZoAhFivO8zQVhiCzZ/s1600/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-dot-abstraction-58-60.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XNQFB3_5yw_ImmPhtZTQnisvlfSjSldOofYz1M6-MN6zJeKdKXqW5d85hULYEUgPuY_rLObRZv7qD-Ph3qJ-cND2Olw67kxiTi5omnrkFKWDDyPF-af6qQoZfjpZoAhFivO8zQVhiCzZ/s640/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-dot-abstraction-58-60.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No. White A.Z. 1958-59 (detail)<br />
oil on canvas 210 x 414 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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"For art like mine, art that does battle at the border of life and death, questioning what we are and what it means to live and die, Japan is too small, too servile, too feudalistic, too scornful of women. My art needs a more unlimited freedom and a wider world. " Yayoi Kasuma<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvLe42KJBLYcAOFj8i1tFOqZGglbT0pJX8Qnyxh45fsO1FGJPgHJ-CuVrirqKSlr8ID24BbY23m5Cp6ZG575C3zcOcniAfMaQPx6VLaNKTDLN-C8pc9ukRg3eN-eCLhklTKsm8165uE_W/s1600/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-white-A.Z.-1958-59.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvLe42KJBLYcAOFj8i1tFOqZGglbT0pJX8Qnyxh45fsO1FGJPgHJ-CuVrirqKSlr8ID24BbY23m5Cp6ZG575C3zcOcniAfMaQPx6VLaNKTDLN-C8pc9ukRg3eN-eCLhklTKsm8165uE_W/s640/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-white-A.Z.-1958-59.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No. B White 1959 detail<br />
oil on canvas 226 c 298 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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In 1959 she moved to the USA to escape the masculine and deeply conservative Japan of the 1950's. Then in 1973, she went back home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXiVw03shzyONu0rZqB1HwhVtl00sl-o4QEF5vfAWRJAJBU3TFfrYNQcPVyvGg2RaPtA0j4App65ynvqr4OVT-6dYCYY-Sr_hItIiORv-m43o4MxNcXWK35O-VQ-U8dnLyA8iwqMDLGDu/s1600/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-dot-abstraction-58-60.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXiVw03shzyONu0rZqB1HwhVtl00sl-o4QEF5vfAWRJAJBU3TFfrYNQcPVyvGg2RaPtA0j4App65ynvqr4OVT-6dYCYY-Sr_hItIiORv-m43o4MxNcXWK35O-VQ-U8dnLyA8iwqMDLGDu/s640/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-dot-abstraction-58-60.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Infinity Nets (white) 1959 detail<br />
oil on canvas 131 x 117.5 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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While in New York City, (October of 1959) she organized her own solo show at the 10th st co-operative gallery. It was of her white monochrome canvases, the infinity net paintings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMp9RgUhvOZSvEuMzDuHPTuS4VazvNKPUmX7TZkyybZL5NnsQBrPrZMA-HM77wqRKJUcgZB4Kw8H6n58IBD4Bogre_Hnd73kPyUSrUYusDJtRB8BkzBaxRbaPHaPKcQgdNI7PCElrg69b/s1600/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-no.-a-b-1959.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1298" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMp9RgUhvOZSvEuMzDuHPTuS4VazvNKPUmX7TZkyybZL5NnsQBrPrZMA-HM77wqRKJUcgZB4Kw8H6n58IBD4Bogre_Hnd73kPyUSrUYusDJtRB8BkzBaxRbaPHaPKcQgdNI7PCElrg69b/s640/yayoi-kusama-infinity-net-no.-a-b-1959.jpg" width="492" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No. T.W.3 1961 detail<br />
oil on canvas 174 x 125 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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Before websites. Before blogs<br />
She did it herself.<br />
She was an avid self-publicists. A writer of manifestos.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNFzvdeE0XeU80QNotBrdIgVquARTqH-XBsk23vCs87cC1NeBNYtAEh14tfGg9dD8Uk4I3bnwTlBBZAszGs_eKzV0I69ExvNj1LmWE2NCJ1Y2sPar4FLuWxYze7h5zKAkqMQhSLWomi79/s1600/yayoi-kusama-accumulation-no.-1-1962.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="962" data-original-width="1000" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNFzvdeE0XeU80QNotBrdIgVquARTqH-XBsk23vCs87cC1NeBNYtAEh14tfGg9dD8Uk4I3bnwTlBBZAszGs_eKzV0I69ExvNj1LmWE2NCJ1Y2sPar4FLuWxYze7h5zKAkqMQhSLWomi79/s400/yayoi-kusama-accumulation-no.-1-1962.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accumulation No. 1 1962 <br />
sewn and stuffed fabric, paint, fringe on chair frame, 121 x 121 x 121 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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In the early 60's, she covered sofas and chairs with stuffed phallic protuberances.<br />
This re-invention of her art, was unexpected and gained her publicity.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lGLc1Xm5G_DYRQ2BS3aP0FCP6H0rK0aXxkRQoZH7DE6txE0qpIaLad7fbitUnPe__M-fpdEEU6RpV8KRBtovDRMYxuCtbULRI5PAB-0mPkWwd9OQShjnjh0SrLf-tZxKnTb-s1Cyjf4i/s1600/yayoi-kusama-accumulation-1963.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lGLc1Xm5G_DYRQ2BS3aP0FCP6H0rK0aXxkRQoZH7DE6txE0qpIaLad7fbitUnPe__M-fpdEEU6RpV8KRBtovDRMYxuCtbULRI5PAB-0mPkWwd9OQShjnjh0SrLf-tZxKnTb-s1Cyjf4i/s400/yayoi-kusama-accumulation-1963.jpg" width="363" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accumulation 1963 <br />
sewn and stuffed fabric, wood chair frame, paint 90 x 97.8 x 88.9 cm<br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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In the 1970's she began to write her autobiography. She says her work is linked to the hallucinatory episodes from her childhood. For many critics, her mental health is one of the most fascinating aspects of her career.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiggz0ZAvhzk0tjFeo3Va_eE61m7yXWoJz5Mc0YGCWwSygSnFk2qoE4z-8hc4TZpIQGJhVH1z1AZ2nzV6NiiythPk7hwV27_w7xZ0oK2pohLTIx4c16v6cA2ob-IbvVXwiKqo2P2Y1Q4G/s1600/yayoi-kusama-self-obliteration-no.-2-1067.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="1000" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiggz0ZAvhzk0tjFeo3Va_eE61m7yXWoJz5Mc0YGCWwSygSnFk2qoE4z-8hc4TZpIQGJhVH1z1AZ2nzV6NiiythPk7hwV27_w7xZ0oK2pohLTIx4c16v6cA2ob-IbvVXwiKqo2P2Y1Q4G/s400/yayoi-kusama-self-obliteration-no.-2-1067.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">self obliteration no. 2 1967 <br />
watercolour, pen, pastel, photocollage on paper 40 x 50 cm <br />
Yayoi Kusama</td></tr>
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In 1993, she represented Japan at the Venice Biennale.<br />
Yayoi Kusama continued to show new work alongside much younger artists in the biennial and triennial circuit international art scene. She lives in Tokyo today, and has a team of dedicated assistants. She continues to exhibit to even wider acclaim each year. Her new installations are based on <a href="https://www.google.ca/search?q=infinity+mirrors+yayoi+kusama+toronto&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiKtYCAuNLdAhVJ3IMKHZiEBVQQ_AUIDigB&biw=1325&bih=651">the Infinity Mirrors</a> that she began making in 1966.<br />
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Text in this post is derived from the introduction to the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Yayoi-Kusama-Midori-Yamamura/dp/1935202812/ref=pd_cart_vw_1_1?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_i=1935202812&pd_rd_r=08TC34Q2EBAF25K1Y5QG&pd_rd_w=acKST&pd_rd_wg=KaLsT&psc=1&refRID=08TC34Q2EBAF25K1Y5QG">Tate Modern's catalogue for Kusama's 2012 exhibition </a>written by Frances Morris. The images are also from that book. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">August 2020 edit: David Zwirner represents Yayoi Kusama and <a href="https://www.davidzwirner.com/artists/yayoi-kusama">this link to her work and life is most informative</a> - Her manifestos, a survey of all her work, and much more are available here. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SmP5UlCylilQ_MhZQwtIB0IAjg2itcnZn1kBjgcD6Rw304VIo_ymHOg_LE0FKq6t-KOmhE53JIxYKAE-wVT__I1Y5HStEopfVM9uIS4c7t27H5Q5daEoy3NOa8WQCWtWkf7_g3tP8sik/s1000/33_kusya0244_view_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SmP5UlCylilQ_MhZQwtIB0IAjg2itcnZn1kBjgcD6Rw304VIo_ymHOg_LE0FKq6t-KOmhE53JIxYKAE-wVT__I1Y5HStEopfVM9uIS4c7t27H5Q5daEoy3NOa8WQCWtWkf7_g3tP8sik/w500-h375/33_kusya0244_view_1.jpg" title="Pumpkin 2015" width="500" /></a></div><p>Above: Pumpkin 2015, Yayoi Kusama, stainless steel and red urethene paint 68 x 77 x 66 inches </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"></blockquote></blockquote><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Yayoi Kusama writes about Covid 19:</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">"Though it glistens just out of reach, I continue to pray for hope to shine through. Its glimmer lighting our way. This long awaited great cosmic glow.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Now that we find ourselves on the dark side of the world, the gods will be there to strengthen the hope we have spread throughout the universe. For those left behiind, each person's story and that of their loved ones, it is time to seek a hymn of love for our souls.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">In thie midst of this historic menace, a brief burst of light points to the future. Let us joyfully sing this song of a splendid future. Let's go.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Embraced in deep love and the efforts of people all over the world, now is the time to overcome, to bring peace. We have gathered for love and I hope to fulfil that desire. The time has come to fight and overcome our unhappiness.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">To Covid 19 that stands in our way, I say Disappear from this Earth. We shall fight. We shall fight this terrible monster. Now is the time for peope all over the world to stand up. My deep gratitude goes to all those who are already fighting." Yayoi Kusama April 2020</div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-27158480290404492722018-01-07T21:50:00.001-05:002018-01-08T10:15:21.935-05:00April Martin new work : Three recent exhibitions 2017-2018<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Recent MFA graduate from the School of the Art Institute in Chicago (sculpture, 2016), April Martin is an interdisciplinary artist who works with sun, wind, water, salt, copper and time. In November and December of 2017 she exhibited in Chicago in two separate exhibitions, and in January 2018, she installed a solo exhibition in Sudbury, northern Ontario Canada.<br />
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Above is<i> Blue Print</i>, copper verdigris on stitched muslin<br />
from the exhibition entitled Mounting Tension at ACRE PROJECTS, Chicago.<br />
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April was inspired to respond to the terrazzo floor in ACRE projects.<br />
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The three vessels above are entitled<i> Like a Lake</i><br />
bisqued earthware filled with miracle gro and water<br />
and in front of them is<br />
<i>Live Wire </i><br />
copper, l.e.d.s and lithium batteries<br />
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The miracle gro seeps into the body of the vessels and onto the floor so that <i>Like a Lake</i> becomes a visual example of the effects of time .<br />
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Also in Chicago, at Roots and Culture, Martin exhibited three more sculptures and collaborated to make a video with Ruby T.<br />
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<i>I Lived On Air </i><br />
pieced linen textile<br />
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In this constructed textile the artist used a code to record the variety of beds that she slept in during 2017, when she took part in five separate month-long residencies in the USA and Europe.<br />
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The striped fabric was cut, flipped, angled, and pieced back together in a variety of ways to represent the people with whom, and the places where, she was tucked in.<br />
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<i>A line from The Waves</i> (above)<br />
copper and ladder tape<br />
A slightly narrower (and shinier) variation on the copper blind sculpture that April created for her MFA in 2016. <a href="http://modernistaesthetic.blogspot.ca/2016/05/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate.html">(here)</a>, it is remarkably affected by the slightest change of light and air movement.<br />
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<i>Pair of Jugs</i><br />
glazed stoneware.<br />
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Challenging herself with a nearly impossible kiln firing, these two sets of vessels have inter-laced handles, as if two female friends are arm in arm. <br />
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April studied at McGill University (BA 2009) and Concordia (BFA 2014) in Montreal and the third exhibition in this post brings several sculptures inspired by the old factories in that city together with brand-new textile and paper collages that she created at Women's Studio Workshop in upstate New York in 2017. To construct the factories, the artist made moulds from tin cans, drinking straws and PVC pipe and then cast them with thin clay slip to make components which were assembled into playful sculptures and fired in the kiln. <br />
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She also constructed custom metal plinths for each of the sculptures. The twelve sculptures in the exhbition are each <i>untitled, </i>two are shown above with the textile and monoprint collage, <i>Airy.</i><br />
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Also included in this exhibition (entitled Effloresence) are three hand-built sculptures.<br />
Above is <i>Pink Hill., </i>ceramic.<br />
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Copper is a constant material in all three of April's exhibitions. The factory sculptures were glazed with copper oxide (and also cobalt and iron oxides) and some are displayed on sheets of copper. In the middle of the above photo is <i>Montreal </i>(hand built ceramic) with <i>Windy</i>, mono-print with textile collage above.<br />
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The sculptures were fired twice. Once for forming the base and then again to fix the oxide glazes. Martin won an award from Concordia for this body of work.<br />
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The largest scupture in the exhibition is entitled <i>Royal Mountain, r</i>eferring to the famous mountain in the city of Montreal, Mount Royal. Hand built from thin pieces of clay, it was a technical feat to have it succeed in the kiln. Behind the sculpture is a glimpse of <i>Breezy, </i>a monopint approximately 32" x 40" with textile collage (2017).<br />
<br />
April Martin<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676a6c; font-family: "tahoma" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">April Martin is a sculptor from North Ontario. Her work embraces the scale of shared living, breathing, heating, melting. She holds a BA from McGill University and a BFA from Concordia in Montreal. In 2016 she completed her MFA in Sculpture at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. She is a recipient of The International Sculpture Centre’s Outstanding Student Achievement in Contemporary Sculpture Award as well as the Legacy Grant from Women’s Studio Workshop (New York). She has installed outdoor works in Humboldt Park (Chicago) and Franconia Sculpture Park (Minnesota). Recently she has participated in residencies at AZ West (California), Teton Art Lab (Wyoming) and Emergency (Switzerland), exhibited work at Roots & Culture (Chicago) and performed at the Walker Art Center (Minneapolis). </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676a6c; font-family: "tahoma" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">(above text from Acre press release)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676a6c; font-family: "tahoma" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;"><br /></span>
exhibition with Ruby T. <a href="http://www.rootsandculturecac.org/show/?id=215">Moving through walls and Floors at Roots and Culture</a> - Chicago<br />
exhibition with Courtney Mackedanz and Erica Raberg <a href="https://www.acreresidency.org/acre-projects/2017-2/">Mounting Tension at Acre</a> - Chicago<br />
and a solo exhibition Effloresence at <a href="http://www.artistsonelgin.ca/exhibitions/current-exhibition">The Northern Artist Gallery - Sudbury </a><br />
<br />
April Martin is our daughter.<br />
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In the spring of 2017, she and Jordan Rosenow collaborated to make this 34 foot sculpture that is installed in <a href="http://www.franconia.org/MeetA_OpenS_17/AMartin.html">Franconia Sculpture park in Minnesota</a> entitled '<i>we move still. </i>steel and fabric</div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-84393103058617381342017-11-03T11:31:00.001-04:002017-11-03T19:12:22.141-04:00Britta Marakatt -Labba<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This post is an introduction to Britta Marakatt Labba's incredible embroidered wool on linen tapestry about the history of the Sami people in northern Norway, Sweden and Finland. In Finland, the area that these people live in is called Lapland.<br />
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The entire embroidery is 24 metres long and can be read in either direction.<br />
The artist speaks <a href="http://www.textile-forum-blog.org/2017/10/britta-marakatt-laba/">here</a> about each of the panels. She speaks about the Goddess mythology that is so important to this culture. You will also <a href="http://www.textile-forum-blog.org/2017/10/britta-marakatt-laba/">find images at the same link for the entire panel. </a><br />
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The tapestry was shown at <a href="http://www.documenta14.de/en/">Documenta 14</a> in Kassel Germany in October 2017. <br />
I humbly write this to encourage readers to go to Beatrijs Sterk's post on the <a href="http://www.textile-forum-blog.org/">Textile Forum blog</a>.<br />
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Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-4306471116053768722017-02-06T11:03:00.000-05:002019-08-27T00:44:00.079-04:00Colleen Heslin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">girl friday 2016 colleen heslin dye on linen</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.colleenheslin.com/">Colleen Heslin'</a>s exhibition <a href="http://50years.mcmichael.com/colleen-heslin-needles-and-pins">Needles and Pins</a><br />
<a href="http://50years.mcmichael.com/colleen-heslin-needles-and-pins">McMichael Canadian Art Collection Gallery June 4 2016 - February 20 2017</a><br />
organized by the Esker Foundation in Calgary<br />
curator Naomi Potter<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC49Eykx71UxTZNieJltmegVpp_k8dN-mDkNWnPCDWE0NHcFPxPFEHOE59ROQNvTV-SbjN5xo4dXmFotnQoAlogU51ePXuIHB7pewhqExdmCVmKpHSNldpVCgfiMt7fAg6OVvrzbeFntQ/s1600/colleen-heslin-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC49Eykx71UxTZNieJltmegVpp_k8dN-mDkNWnPCDWE0NHcFPxPFEHOE59ROQNvTV-SbjN5xo4dXmFotnQoAlogU51ePXuIHB7pewhqExdmCVmKpHSNldpVCgfiMt7fAg6OVvrzbeFntQ/s400/colleen-heslin-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">girl friday detail colleen heslin</td></tr>
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sewn paintings<br />
constructed colour fields<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUKx-Jbgn2njmEwVTFHil82w_b8RPrmsnhrNvdLT4OtRYNXnU0T4jizkn1h9KL9YKaVnJrL9Mu4yGkFA97bow6-H-3N08ld9KWIDEwdqVZiT2rjIGxEuLGYEvyhR37SXNU04RA0cNqDZcw/s1600/colleen-heslin-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUKx-Jbgn2njmEwVTFHil82w_b8RPrmsnhrNvdLT4OtRYNXnU0T4jizkn1h9KL9YKaVnJrL9Mu4yGkFA97bow6-H-3N08ld9KWIDEwdqVZiT2rjIGxEuLGYEvyhR37SXNU04RA0cNqDZcw/s400/colleen-heslin-5.jpg" width="335" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">false start 2016 colleen heslin dye on linen</td></tr>
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Colleen Heslin won the 2013 RBC Canadian Painting Prize<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDTXfPsLGYiUMJ15MWAyz-sNvGW-d9GOTUsaPQldqG6T8w8hl9cwmGTwAGX1Seh8ArMJfSTfZtuxqVeaftjiXPZfXC0RDoRCLlnHHi5EDRtC0h0pudf4wzqcDJqjUjlfZhuPT7qN28fp2/s1600/colleen-heslin-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDTXfPsLGYiUMJ15MWAyz-sNvGW-d9GOTUsaPQldqG6T8w8hl9cwmGTwAGX1Seh8ArMJfSTfZtuxqVeaftjiXPZfXC0RDoRCLlnHHi5EDRtC0h0pudf4wzqcDJqjUjlfZhuPT7qN28fp2/s400/colleen-heslin-6.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">earth be earth 2015 colleen heslin dye on linen</td></tr>
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Colour field paintings or modern quilts?<br />
A <a href="http://50years.mcmichael.com/jack-bush-in-studio">Jack Bush solo exhibition</a> runs concurrently at the McMichael<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgdmAkdpjMzQWAdInvxPs7K8MlN6meA99ZjsQuDmHEJx4idAvsICgpMTpYs5t81ecwJSROOkhVLyA-tP870gTcV5icuBZSkYo2f1BUpgNG1cwAd9XST6my9_9wukpXedHoGD2crCtyb9z/s1600/colleen-heslin-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDgdmAkdpjMzQWAdInvxPs7K8MlN6meA99ZjsQuDmHEJx4idAvsICgpMTpYs5t81ecwJSROOkhVLyA-tP870gTcV5icuBZSkYo2f1BUpgNG1cwAd9XST6my9_9wukpXedHoGD2crCtyb9z/s400/colleen-heslin-7.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">earth be earth detail colleen heslin</td></tr>
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Art equals craft, Craft equals art.<br />
The importance and meaning of materials<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8gRJLCEloh7Qj0o58Zdisn7-YZMEpxDguXT_Dd_UAZsAUsSEeHtO_2wGFNtkWcHBwnUMo5m4FgJDJTC3iUN_ela4jjmclh0P5yDxj4eRbt1b0_NofNn6CJlVlx0V5smmIiQLbesQ4o_1/s1600/colleen-heslin-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8gRJLCEloh7Qj0o58Zdisn7-YZMEpxDguXT_Dd_UAZsAUsSEeHtO_2wGFNtkWcHBwnUMo5m4FgJDJTC3iUN_ela4jjmclh0P5yDxj4eRbt1b0_NofNn6CJlVlx0V5smmIiQLbesQ4o_1/s400/colleen-heslin-8.jpg" width="327" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">monochrome 2016 colleen heslin dye on linen</td></tr>
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Colleen Heslin soaks fabric in dye, and then skillfully cuts and pieces these striking compositions.<br />
They 'resonate with the tension of material and gestural complexity.' (wall text)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZPGM8yi5NQPsxatpqz2MXJSOkMw4MlSFHkNU-LorqS7S3w6HKAIH34WS44J5a5cIaj5zJxjiQvfCEqAQ9Nw3zq3fuVVaMNf4-WcYd2hxBsynZn8dnETBRHqwxFNjSE27f5FQDiTx_ubp/s1600/colleen-heslin-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZPGM8yi5NQPsxatpqz2MXJSOkMw4MlSFHkNU-LorqS7S3w6HKAIH34WS44J5a5cIaj5zJxjiQvfCEqAQ9Nw3zq3fuVVaMNf4-WcYd2hxBsynZn8dnETBRHqwxFNjSE27f5FQDiTx_ubp/s400/colleen-heslin-11.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dash 2015 colleen heslin ink and dye on cotton and linen</td></tr>
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The work in this exhibition is recent, most from 2016.<br />
Those from 2015 give more evidence about her mark making process.<br />
She allows the fabrics that she stains with dye or ink to dry naturally, and then responds to the marks left behind without her hand touching them. <br />
Not paintings then.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MQTISd59J_vgcrtATcuAMoWIApr0ZWvC6yFGh8DEB3S51r0B67NUviI7YbKSLvVL8gJnhzM8sOZm5K_Hkd55xFN439HrAMhGhSPO6Jhd0m_kMG2sKRaednOFzxQwwsXGF2XqGm9km7-U/s1600/colleen-heslin-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MQTISd59J_vgcrtATcuAMoWIApr0ZWvC6yFGh8DEB3S51r0B67NUviI7YbKSLvVL8gJnhzM8sOZm5K_Hkd55xFN439HrAMhGhSPO6Jhd0m_kMG2sKRaednOFzxQwwsXGF2XqGm9km7-U/s400/colleen-heslin-12.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dash 2015 colleen heslin detail</td></tr>
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Yet the viewer feels touched.<br />
This artist is exploring and using cloth as a language and cloth is intimate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqxFmlwpzVZYnuP1K53hU2zupPkeQB9FYAZc_RqEAsuxRUAnJgjQmXEs0sOZ8u0DxniviroxzgafRE1bnjvZiF4RQCxeUtsjRY2icpEQUG-XFDdJQyrmood-bh3Kj0cWl3sJFmcZde7G-/s1600/colleen-heslin-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqxFmlwpzVZYnuP1K53hU2zupPkeQB9FYAZc_RqEAsuxRUAnJgjQmXEs0sOZ8u0DxniviroxzgafRE1bnjvZiF4RQCxeUtsjRY2icpEQUG-XFDdJQyrmood-bh3Kj0cWl3sJFmcZde7G-/s400/colleen-heslin-13.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">counterpose 2015 colleen heslin ink and dye on cotton and linen</td></tr>
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We understand cloth.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOM_eng-Pldprtmfym6p7N68zyk_q1MUpyvIJvuL5zkvB-NAxdguL2Vo0WjeeWN8nkoKXIIXkfhL__yHmp_p3kDM_YJzkLQMThwoaBHV0_NVoiThNS6kS7R4WdMdLjbLyqV6_0RQnB2AY/s1600/colleen-heslin-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOM_eng-Pldprtmfym6p7N68zyk_q1MUpyvIJvuL5zkvB-NAxdguL2Vo0WjeeWN8nkoKXIIXkfhL__yHmp_p3kDM_YJzkLQMThwoaBHV0_NVoiThNS6kS7R4WdMdLjbLyqV6_0RQnB2AY/s400/colleen-heslin-16.jpg" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">log cabin 2016 colleen heslin dye on canvas</td></tr>
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Cloth is like the human body.<br />
It's malleable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDMQ1xzQVwtpbla4FZVeZ852fHKxWdXtVJyqQ4mCJ2VUFUOr0e0zuaSNQFpxhyphenhyphenvud6emP_7biMQGLv9d0R8Jr3TbJYP_wz0op3Kn8NNP9ygQJPe1hj4lt-_FLQfDs_KWtPsvY0pt6IFt6/s1600/colleen-heslin-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDMQ1xzQVwtpbla4FZVeZ852fHKxWdXtVJyqQ4mCJ2VUFUOr0e0zuaSNQFpxhyphenhyphenvud6emP_7biMQGLv9d0R8Jr3TbJYP_wz0op3Kn8NNP9ygQJPe1hj4lt-_FLQfDs_KWtPsvY0pt6IFt6/s400/colleen-heslin-17.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">runaay 2016 colleen heslin dye on canvas</td></tr>
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Most of the pieces are human scale. <br />
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The cloth is pulled around stretcher bars. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulfg3b_90xQTnXPwAr3slmCc8ZQpMIn0l3xQg3VzJfGxAXvQK8yYs0qn-MtmQCtpEWwuBbhJplKAVJFwpq_MLQiT8jYAEy51uYkG_Rdd6S6Mb254I6iAknvOM4nclrDS5se3doqXFxuV6/s1600/colleen-heslin-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulfg3b_90xQTnXPwAr3slmCc8ZQpMIn0l3xQg3VzJfGxAXvQK8yYs0qn-MtmQCtpEWwuBbhJplKAVJFwpq_MLQiT8jYAEy51uYkG_Rdd6S6Mb254I6iAknvOM4nclrDS5se3doqXFxuV6/s400/colleen-heslin-18.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">seafoam 2016 colleen heslin dye on canvas</td></tr>
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Not quilts then. </div>
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Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-63872724705964662442016-10-23T11:30:00.000-04:002016-10-24T23:54:21.823-04:00Rebecca Belmore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgZHIzPzv_PehTqxqT0nNjO4MpwVcbv6AzVqhszaO97zS0sXGfoaIdQ-1JZP80F27wkAvAufPUqm1vScaBJE2KNWhvgoqQV9OyoaFl69fOpgTCYYRDrE5Bd2vQrwZkeRvnQkEU0Cq1tFT/s1600/rebecca-belmore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgZHIzPzv_PehTqxqT0nNjO4MpwVcbv6AzVqhszaO97zS0sXGfoaIdQ-1JZP80F27wkAvAufPUqm1vScaBJE2KNWhvgoqQV9OyoaFl69fOpgTCYYRDrE5Bd2vQrwZkeRvnQkEU0Cq1tFT/s640/rebecca-belmore.jpg" width="410" /></a></div>
Rebecca Belmore was the first indiginous woman to represent Canada at the Venice Biennale, 2005. <br />
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She creates performances that address memory, photographs that implicate the body and sculptures that evoke a sense of place. Rebecca asks us to examine our relationship to history. She uses natural materials, repetitive gestures and labour. She references the struggling or missing body.<br />
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This post is about some of the artifacts that Belmore created between 1987 - 2004.<br />
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Her earliest piece, a Victorian dress with a beaver dam bustle, was worn during a performance in Thunder Bay,Ontario Canada and is now part of the Art Gallery of Ontario permanent collection.,<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQECpilNEUHqZ3BzPE1wrq4_B5KhOf-_osNbEM3GKsU0bD1ZqGR42k8HXAh8zFnsmFX4vrKpYW7kXutlXrG1GBuUXfEWK3kwhP_Vo8yrG3TcptllTata_M1UrERekGlcAcGQPavwsuWoQV/s1600/rebecca-belmore-rising-to-the-occasion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQECpilNEUHqZ3BzPE1wrq4_B5KhOf-_osNbEM3GKsU0bD1ZqGR42k8HXAh8zFnsmFX4vrKpYW7kXutlXrG1GBuUXfEWK3kwhP_Vo8yrG3TcptllTata_M1UrERekGlcAcGQPavwsuWoQV/s640/rebecca-belmore-rising-to-the-occasion.jpg" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rising To The Occasion</td></tr>
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It is a provocation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVSsnJDK1JI-GxczxaWQEiRHOwU-SdHRRlmzYR3pUgZinu5ZzEdHhDNlxqcsrpxU2i1WXLzvRHPe7DBCyJvZAVJTpLHYAU1z-GEw6c_n4pxXPDtfKh9O65RfnjVYhSexpshDBoCIoAG-s/s1600/rebecca-belmore-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVSsnJDK1JI-GxczxaWQEiRHOwU-SdHRRlmzYR3pUgZinu5ZzEdHhDNlxqcsrpxU2i1WXLzvRHPe7DBCyJvZAVJTpLHYAU1z-GEw6c_n4pxXPDtfKh9O65RfnjVYhSexpshDBoCIoAG-s/s400/rebecca-belmore-7.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">wana-na-wang-ong, lichen, moss, roots 1993</span></td></tr>
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Seven years later, at the age of 33, she gathered spruce roots from logging sites, lichen from trees and laced them together to construct a monumental sculpture. This piece represents a specific place.<br />
Sioux Lookout, Northern Ontario.<br />
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Wana-na-wang-ong means curve in the land or gentle dip.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ycAaNP10XkQorMk5DhnSKq8hnjFcq8NBXwCF3e_EzgCjfRcAFTBi6YjtzwCELd4uuO0px6C2C9B5uqad5yNZufQ2HOkWF850a6-cF1S2Evah3yonCtAcof0MSxFh63Zydyh33Pbygj1/s1600/rebecca-belmore-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ycAaNP10XkQorMk5DhnSKq8hnjFcq8NBXwCF3e_EzgCjfRcAFTBi6YjtzwCELd4uuO0px6C2C9B5uqad5yNZufQ2HOkWF850a6-cF1S2Evah3yonCtAcof0MSxFh63Zydyh33Pbygj1/s320/rebecca-belmore-8.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">detail of <span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">wana-na-wang-ong (lichen)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcxMGn88AkDJeYFmzOjWaHoVOyv-vzhmLJdNdutn6xOikIoi_l-Zw5cQJNY-y2EtkOz1mpE4l-F76la0Yee3idgm1EoVQzrFi_vWiUJWgEfgS5emm8GSRNpWtgD2lytPIdEYcvSa4oTMS/s1600/rebecca-belmore-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcxMGn88AkDJeYFmzOjWaHoVOyv-vzhmLJdNdutn6xOikIoi_l-Zw5cQJNY-y2EtkOz1mpE4l-F76la0Yee3idgm1EoVQzrFi_vWiUJWgEfgS5emm8GSRNpWtgD2lytPIdEYcvSa4oTMS/s320/rebecca-belmore-9.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">detail of </span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">wana-na-wang-ong (spruce roots)</span></td></tr>
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"it is crucial that we speak about our connection to the land. "<br />
Rebecca<br />
Belmore<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhToolTHV8LN1Du2RIe9u_8YdefyibTBbllgUDXK_LXHXDr_QDdd9-UyLcb3CGcThaqmrXTa7mRWWCwYMRAzJEligOzs8_d-imxgfMtxQe0BKRJpAzyZVvBDRMYn3on1XRI0YrjYqCF2s/s1600/rebecca-belmore-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhToolTHV8LN1Du2RIe9u_8YdefyibTBbllgUDXK_LXHXDr_QDdd9-UyLcb3CGcThaqmrXTa7mRWWCwYMRAzJEligOzs8_d-imxgfMtxQe0BKRJpAzyZVvBDRMYn3on1XRI0YrjYqCF2s/s400/rebecca-belmore-10.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled (a blanket for Sarah) 1994 pine needles through metal screening</td></tr>
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The next year, in 1994, untitled (a blanket for Sarah) was created by pushing 800,000 pine needles through a metal mesh. (Sarah is the name of a homeless woman who froze to death on the streets of Sioux Lookout). The artist and several assistants created this metaphor for the severity and beauty of nature over days of repetitive labour.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OKDpZIAi5QWGj9N5q3wVE0TZWJ9f7XFAeS4qx-fGnvvDlUGnjOrSkssxlEAabjY6VXZKgTnmbbkSLTmCuasWol64XqbZPuRYeKhVYgIqBWM8EqWQoeMUbeDS7-fNTk9snyT3Z01Hlze2/s1600/rebecca-belmore-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OKDpZIAi5QWGj9N5q3wVE0TZWJ9f7XFAeS4qx-fGnvvDlUGnjOrSkssxlEAabjY6VXZKgTnmbbkSLTmCuasWol64XqbZPuRYeKhVYgIqBWM8EqWQoeMUbeDS7-fNTk9snyT3Z01Hlze2/s400/rebecca-belmore-11.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">deatil of untitled (a blanket for Sarah)</td></tr>
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Robert Houle wrote an essay about Rebecca Belmore for the <a href="https://www.vanartgallery.bc.ca/the_exhibitions/exhibit_rebecca_belmore.html">Vancouver Art Gallery 2008 exhibition catalogue</a>. It is entitled <i>Interiority as Allegory</i><br />
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He states that Rebecca Belmore's body of work is between two cultures, between order and chaos and between corporeal and visceral. He says that her performances and installations are impossible to categorize and that the complex emotional resonance and diversity in her work is a powerful allegory for her inner self and also for all of us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xR_ziLKqm5ueSU-dM96tVGJEururHOxnamP8K-yO-cmuDpT4S3JFkHv3NUMLcrfN_kymWZZUXbqQBpR3P1X8E52LmuEFC9R9gE1x4EI2MI-LthriZZJt-O_rYVKh6SAW4TgC5YRWCdCT/s1600/rebecca-belmore-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xR_ziLKqm5ueSU-dM96tVGJEururHOxnamP8K-yO-cmuDpT4S3JFkHv3NUMLcrfN_kymWZZUXbqQBpR3P1X8E52LmuEFC9R9gE1x4EI2MI-LthriZZJt-O_rYVKh6SAW4TgC5YRWCdCT/s640/rebecca-belmore-16.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temple 1996 ater, plastic, fountain, telescope, dimensions variable</td></tr>
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In 1996 (age 36) she created Temple. Plastic milk bags filled with water from Lake Ontario bring the viewer face to face with the utter simplicity of water, its illness and fragility revealed through the many different colours of liquid - green, purple, reddish brown.<br />
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<i>How removed are we from acknowledging that we are part of nature? How great is that distance?</i> Rebecca Belmore<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbfHy6R45fwlHX4_wyNb-aouCOuxIoFSLYuYXxyr7PqAgT3yUDgjWMxMoKthuP_8ymOvoJWZL6oaPJ_K5SC1ruDv51i67cXUfKg3UEnzir4lLWwNXGgaP9LUYv-lVA9bqnbPeqyM5Nnz9/s1600/rebecca-belmore-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbfHy6R45fwlHX4_wyNb-aouCOuxIoFSLYuYXxyr7PqAgT3yUDgjWMxMoKthuP_8ymOvoJWZL6oaPJ_K5SC1ruDv51i67cXUfKg3UEnzir4lLWwNXGgaP9LUYv-lVA9bqnbPeqyM5Nnz9/s400/rebecca-belmore-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">black cloud 2001 wood and steel<br />
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In Black Cloud dozens of nails were driven into a blackened, gnarled piece of wood that looks like a broken spine, a metaphor for human and environmental suffering. She was 41 when she made it. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgufguYmAHurmrTw0gl9iymtymSVOuxYfOHEdqzUqGqIlJQA1lptg4wHg78vmh96kDeSx1apMAJjNc_yMZRD8hwFojl8QNoVsDvNkgUI-vuWCPAez4eIfRVU6TCaJAQ3wgJpIMpAp3tJN/s1600/rebecca-belmore-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgufguYmAHurmrTw0gl9iymtymSVOuxYfOHEdqzUqGqIlJQA1lptg4wHg78vmh96kDeSx1apMAJjNc_yMZRD8hwFojl8QNoVsDvNkgUI-vuWCPAez4eIfRVU6TCaJAQ3wgJpIMpAp3tJN/s400/rebecca-belmore-14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Great <span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">Water, overturned canoe and fabric 2002</span><br />
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In 2002, she covered an upside down canoe with an immense sheet of dark blue fabric, overturning a sign from both Aboriginal and European cultures. It's as if she is asking, Don't you see? Both of our cultures are in peril. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60i1-VcDmxe2cGpAGhIlWr6w7MF07_fpKU1J9hr3IYGBuuktLcIloVmVfzAVDpnoVqNv2FAjWu4ecxUCC9CBD3yyAkubqW0yCfLvxPIY54GGbjqSky4_t9zS9AC8UsaMTBAXUiuZ9KkZx/s1600/rebecca-belmore-white-thread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60i1-VcDmxe2cGpAGhIlWr6w7MF07_fpKU1J9hr3IYGBuuktLcIloVmVfzAVDpnoVqNv2FAjWu4ecxUCC9CBD3yyAkubqW0yCfLvxPIY54GGbjqSky4_t9zS9AC8UsaMTBAXUiuZ9KkZx/s640/rebecca-belmore-white-thread.jpg" width="442" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">white thread, 2003 inkjet on watercolour paper</td></tr>
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In 2003 and 2004, she produced photographs of figures wrapped in cloth. Fabric binds the body, restricting movement. The photographs are beautiful, their subject disturbing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41UOLDgS6-k1dX4f3WnYWGWI2DUhyphenhyphenMMtZzuxyNSBOyasO4mMZyVGKurcuth_coSPanhsmaDt2B-U_MOZZh6UHEYBUB9xM76OfIqN3r0AQAhA4DJgdy_a6zARgeHRUqhrHAIwsO44Y2DCj/s1600/rebecca-belmore-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41UOLDgS6-k1dX4f3WnYWGWI2DUhyphenhyphenMMtZzuxyNSBOyasO4mMZyVGKurcuth_coSPanhsmaDt2B-U_MOZZh6UHEYBUB9xM76OfIqN3r0AQAhA4DJgdy_a6zARgeHRUqhrHAIwsO44Y2DCj/s640/rebecca-belmore-5.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">untitled 2 2004 inkjet on <span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">w</span>atercolour paper<br />
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It is the minimalist yet emotional beauty of these photos that hits our hearts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEdbc0M5KmqTx5iwkykoPEcGy0nDpAqjvCiIeEKGVuYGeN0YH5EoVHbG7rn_L6MEzQUkmZ2Qf38fZIBfQ7bR_ta-EJqYVuES7Vkni0wfe5Z3Z0p81BRrWq81BZPrsOZdYdbOACOmKD80Y/s1600/rebecca-belmore-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgEdbc0M5KmqTx5iwkykoPEcGy0nDpAqjvCiIeEKGVuYGeN0YH5EoVHbG7rn_L6MEzQUkmZ2Qf38fZIBfQ7bR_ta-EJqYVuES7Vkni0wfe5Z3Z0p81BRrWq81BZPrsOZdYdbOACOmKD80Y/s640/rebecca-belmore-6.jpg" width="430" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">untitled 3 2004 inkjet print on <span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">w</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">atercolour paper</span><br />
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Rebecca remains unequivacally Anishinabe. She brings the outdoors into the gallery so that nature is not separated from culture, and culture is not reduced to ethnicity.<br />
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All images and the ground of ideas for this text are taken from the Vancouver Art Gallery catalogue entitled <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Belmore-Rising-Occassion-Augaitis/dp/B001UP2VSS/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1477236488&sr=8-3&keywords=rebecca+belmore">Rebecca Belmore.</a> Much appreciaton and thanks to the curators Diana Augatis and Kathleen Ritter and to the artist.</div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-13452754166210553762016-08-12T17:57:00.001-04:002016-08-14T13:01:56.320-04:00Sati Zech<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniB8iRey1GNuSV8pKBen3PaMETxXRHfUKKdsMPDRG3T5jrM0-T8xWMacACLsO2s81SycoTgQCKviEXlf2NDtLzNl5xGiLG1bmjjd1LsAR0ExKMROTPniUkdaiAZ7b8BUEY7bFAqL_FT-G/s1600/sati-zech-5-bollenarbeit-no.-244-%2528included-no.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniB8iRey1GNuSV8pKBen3PaMETxXRHfUKKdsMPDRG3T5jrM0-T8xWMacACLsO2s81SycoTgQCKviEXlf2NDtLzNl5xGiLG1bmjjd1LsAR0ExKMROTPniUkdaiAZ7b8BUEY7bFAqL_FT-G/s400/sati-zech-5-bollenarbeit-no.-244-%2528included-no.jpg" width="346" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bollenarbeit 244, 2014 oil on canvas 77 x 60" sati zech</td></tr>
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Berlin artist, Sati Zech makes joyful yet meditative artworks that she calls bollenarbeit that refer, she says, to the hills and low mountains of southern Germany, the region where she was born.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUEn1VkdQUTGnJHU80eTmCgrpi70ubgma5MnHyHmlAXnIts5I4p0f-G3-O7IybwzI4j-aKit0-3HPzFkTcgbenxVkpYrcBis27e3GfFLNholAK_QaGETRlBATMlqsjIZrlYkjpHL0N8Ile/s1600/sati-zech-4-bollenarbeit-no.-242-2014-oil%252C-canvas-69.5-x-34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUEn1VkdQUTGnJHU80eTmCgrpi70ubgma5MnHyHmlAXnIts5I4p0f-G3-O7IybwzI4j-aKit0-3HPzFkTcgbenxVkpYrcBis27e3GfFLNholAK_QaGETRlBATMlqsjIZrlYkjpHL0N8Ile/s640/sati-zech-4-bollenarbeit-no.-242-2014-oil%252C-canvas-69.5-x-34.jpg" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bollenarbeit no 242, 2014 69.5 x 34 inches oil, canvas Sati Zech</td></tr>
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To make them she tears apart sheets of canvas into strips and then reassembles them. Sometimes they are overlapped, sometimes she uses white archival glue, sometimes plaster or wax or thread to put the pieces together. The domes and dots of thick red paint are placed in horizontals on the cloth surfaces before or sometimes after this assembling.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJX71XFUJVD2pdRS9RM2iOcURrsqe5ZfYBYqWo8jVqLG2DcMIKf_2y8syuY7Bap0bFkzPkwRTVP-xVUIODOi3xhfyexXEc0BB5DEpuQ__xA6DpgE37ww-AeWNIFVapW-1cuvNIg1ezgtS/s1600/sati-zech-2006-bollenbild-no-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJX71XFUJVD2pdRS9RM2iOcURrsqe5ZfYBYqWo8jVqLG2DcMIKf_2y8syuY7Bap0bFkzPkwRTVP-xVUIODOi3xhfyexXEc0BB5DEpuQ__xA6DpgE37ww-AeWNIFVapW-1cuvNIg1ezgtS/s640/sati-zech-2006-bollenbild-no-19.jpg" width="458" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bollenarbeit no 19, 2006 oil, canvas 94 x 63 inches, Sati Zech</td></tr>
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In 2006 she had an exhibition of this body of work at the Heidelberger Kunstverein in Germany, and has gone on to show variations on the theme around the world. Her New York gallery, the Howard Scott has this to say about Sati Zech's bollen paintings.<br />
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<i>"The artworks of Sati Zech are unique amalgams of historically ritualistic mark making and 21st century self-expression. They emanate feelings of femaleness: her power and passion, her cycles and repetitions."</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk-FrxedO-cr7IwKcWQ_z-G-5cG0oxzx7g84OZwrfM-FiVpH1Hf1gdoIVKVpIP-gEb9GqrdOP1cPCjZEMgowkd_gImWobxmfCXa_hyphenhyphenUkHPvRl8jG5pAphIohyRvwMp0nMLTPzCZuqDc_-/s1600/sati-zech-3-bollenarbeit-no.-110-2010-oil%252C-canvas-37.5-x-27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgk-FrxedO-cr7IwKcWQ_z-G-5cG0oxzx7g84OZwrfM-FiVpH1Hf1gdoIVKVpIP-gEb9GqrdOP1cPCjZEMgowkd_gImWobxmfCXa_hyphenhyphenUkHPvRl8jG5pAphIohyRvwMp0nMLTPzCZuqDc_-/s400/sati-zech-3-bollenarbeit-no.-110-2010-oil%252C-canvas-37.5-x-27.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bollenarbeit 110, 2010 37.5 x 27 inches, oil, canvas, wax, Sati Zech</td></tr>
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<i>"The layering, gluing, tearing, sewing all give rise to the idea of labour. Specifically women's labour, a kind of thoughtful, painstaking never-ending work that manifests itself in tactile visions of strength, beauty, necessity, serendipity." </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmb2upDIBaEiLdW2X6fJlxwgS0bx2qvYc_5pZax8c3IK2_gGZFIclSyY_-ulTVGyYM3QhsQLoIROQ5rvjnod3J1dj83TNOpZdb615rY010hFWNOV3S1CRKUoDrwMBiT0-uQxzDp5dTzhK/s1600/Sati-Zech-detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmb2upDIBaEiLdW2X6fJlxwgS0bx2qvYc_5pZax8c3IK2_gGZFIclSyY_-ulTVGyYM3QhsQLoIROQ5rvjnod3J1dj83TNOpZdb615rY010hFWNOV3S1CRKUoDrwMBiT0-uQxzDp5dTzhK/s400/Sati-Zech-detail.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<i> "They contain the emotional dynamism of Louise Bourgois, the semantic materiality of Joseph Beuys, the subtle tactility of Eva Hesse and the symbolic charge of African art."</i> all quotes from <a href="http://www.howardscottgallery.com/dynamic/artist.asp?artistID=35">Howard Scott Gallery</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzy6MERWOZvMFOo3EBaTIF0Pk1XOwLZSi1LDdwZHuGC00JtgCodQncMXw0nEVTXSa9jzE3cH9sDxxO_nBmqoQLfBTRe4hhDe6NGmDDTn-yK7sk5oMuFhdHYgFGi93DTFKV9wJ7W__q_yTn/s1600/Sati-Zech-her-studio-with-rudi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzy6MERWOZvMFOo3EBaTIF0Pk1XOwLZSi1LDdwZHuGC00JtgCodQncMXw0nEVTXSa9jzE3cH9sDxxO_nBmqoQLfBTRe4hhDe6NGmDDTn-yK7sk5oMuFhdHYgFGi93DTFKV9wJ7W__q_yTn/s400/Sati-Zech-her-studio-with-rudi.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sati Zech's studio with her dog, Rudi</td></tr>
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Why does this work resonate so much?<br />
Is it the colour?<br />
red .... white<br />
Or the repetition of rounded shape<br />
Or the variety within that repetition<br />
like natural elements - like human figures<br />
Or the emotion expressed with the tearing up of the cloth<br />
and the made elements<br />
the destruction?<br />
Or is it the hand-made de-skilled repairing of that cloth?<br />
Is it because the artist has created a new square<br />
a new human scaled rectangle<br />
fabric that looks to be careless,<br />
but that has taken much thought and care.<br />
much work<br />
There is a feeling of safety in these pieces. <br />
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"These works are about communication. The single bollen are like elements of a piece of music, or flags, or skin that's been branded." Sati Zech<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOblVlAHL1KYSZ9ZmmjBmaKT6xvjY_InHD2e4CqOEZfqXKYnMKcQcQ20-wSJeoh2y1vaiWEwzNr2nhJ0ghMK8NnsRttNGmUjJ6n8MWF87ISo_Z3aqmF4TXmGli_ewbogNgPcPGjeNSJDg/s1600/Sati-Zech_2-for-louise-bourgois.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOblVlAHL1KYSZ9ZmmjBmaKT6xvjY_InHD2e4CqOEZfqXKYnMKcQcQ20-wSJeoh2y1vaiWEwzNr2nhJ0ghMK8NnsRttNGmUjJ6n8MWF87ISo_Z3aqmF4TXmGli_ewbogNgPcPGjeNSJDg/s1600/Sati-Zech_2-for-louise-bourgois.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">for Louise Bourgois #17 Sati Zech bollenarbeit detail</td></tr>
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She is inspired by the large sensual traditional artforms of several African countries.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLR2-sCOuAgdG9xBgvn02lZaLfE8lO25IfnoYcAqUzSNZx7Vvvqn7CZn8luda_RfbF_HGNzAgCIS2olyBVEjpMtmm93lOkaDw3Pxy29U-lQSY80b3Y024k7iiLKjElYiacblfeW9s5L_3/s1600/Sati-Zech_2-for-louise-bourgois-18-jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLR2-sCOuAgdG9xBgvn02lZaLfE8lO25IfnoYcAqUzSNZx7Vvvqn7CZn8luda_RfbF_HGNzAgCIS2olyBVEjpMtmm93lOkaDw3Pxy29U-lQSY80b3Y024k7iiLKjElYiacblfeW9s5L_3/s1600/Sati-Zech_2-for-louise-bourgois-18-jpg.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">for Louise Bourgois #18 Sati Zech bollenarbeit detail</td></tr>
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She is inspired by female sensibility.<br />
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All information is from the internet. Click<a href="http://www.howardscottgallery.com/dynamic/exhibit_artist.asp?ExhibitID=59"> here</a> for Howard Scott gallery,<a href="http://www.freundevonfreunden.com/interviews/sati-zech/"> here </a>for an image-full Zeit visit with the artist and <a href="http://www.satizech.de/">here</a> for Sati Zech's own website.<br />
Sati Zech speaks about destroying and re-building and about the power and rhythm of communication <a href="https://vimeo.com/145457756">on this video</a> from Paris.Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-5965114253820533942016-05-22T13:06:00.001-04:002023-07-15T12:39:12.551-04:00April Anne Martin MFA graduate exhibition Art Institute of Chicago 2016<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The Sun Had Not Yet Risen </i>2016 copper blind, 3 feet wide, 10 feet high</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The Sea Was Indistinguishable from the Sky </i>2016</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> tupperware with cyanotype printmaking in process</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">MFA exhibition, April Anne Martin</span><br />
<br /></td></tr>
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<br />
Simplicity is the core<br />
pared down to the essence<br />
not removing the poetry,<br />
but pared down<br />
not removing the connective tissue between all the elements<br />
not diminishing that quality that compels us to look again<br />
and again and again<br />
but pared down<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxx9mz1tzec5KcGw37shYSSwaWjTpeYbwkB9b0M_Q5K874d9SvP1ad1SYuLIZM_eA2_WjltXM-e6VLTs68rYO4O7VlUWxDZx6SFJEXePXDxn-NYicS3TN5S1NepRTHs8jkl40vxgRzp8A/s1600/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxx9mz1tzec5KcGw37shYSSwaWjTpeYbwkB9b0M_Q5K874d9SvP1ad1SYuLIZM_eA2_WjltXM-e6VLTs68rYO4O7VlUWxDZx6SFJEXePXDxn-NYicS3TN5S1NepRTHs8jkl40vxgRzp8A/s640/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-3.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">in the far left window sill, <i>The Sea Rose</i> 2016 paper sculpture, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">on the floor, </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The Sea Was Indistinguishable from the Sky,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> in front of the window, <i>The Sun Had Not Yet Risen,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i></i>(this photo taken around 6 pm)</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></td></tr>
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simplified<br />
pared down<br />
every unnecessary element discarded<br />
spare<br />
elegant<br />
sumptuous<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXURAdR0QR6ufrZrWIWKFD9VUpAftdP7Jvm9zz0-jSYuQaVUzIhpq_K3NsS-ldX-6HjfmYy4n-aOehH0nbmDBb9X8Of1jfPiFW7My9fedF4Fd94hEmIffiWLsWvSB_cQeTXnSQM2v4vppT/s1600/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXURAdR0QR6ufrZrWIWKFD9VUpAftdP7Jvm9zz0-jSYuQaVUzIhpq_K3NsS-ldX-6HjfmYy4n-aOehH0nbmDBb9X8Of1jfPiFW7My9fedF4Fd94hEmIffiWLsWvSB_cQeTXnSQM2v4vppT/s640/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-4.jpg" width="452" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April Anne Martin's MFA graduate exhibition Art Institute of Chicago, <br />
<a href="http://www.saic.edu/sullivangalleries/">Sullivan Galleries </a>April 29 - May 18, 2016</td></tr>
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Like Eva Hesse,<br />
Martin uses a complicated minimalism marked with fantasy<br />
Like Roni Horn,<br />
she pays attention to the physical qualities of her material<br />
Like Mark Rothko,<br />
she uses a vertical format marked with shimmering horizontals<br />
Like a poet,<br />
she wants to elicit emotional response<br />
Like a scientist,<br />
she asks questions about what would happen in nature and records the process<br />
Like an artist,<br />
she doesn't want to know the answer ahead of time<br />
<br />
She allows nature to be her equal partner<br />
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April Martin works with the changeable daily elements that each of us experience and think we know. Water. Air. Natural light. Time.<br />
<br />
The objects in this exhibition hold the time of day within them.<br />
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Inspired by modernist women artists and poets, Martin quotes Virginia Woolf's 1931 novel <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46114.The_Waves">The Waves,</a> in her titles. Quoted below are the first few lines of that poem-novel. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The sun had not yet risen. The sea was indistinguishable from the sky, except that the sea was slightly creased as if a cloth had wrinkles in it. Gradually as the sky whitened a dark line lay on the horizon dividing the sea from the sky and the grey cloth became barred with thick strokes moving, one after another, beneath the surface, following each other, pursuing each other, perpetually.<br />
As they neared the shore each bar rose, heaped itself, broke and swept a thin veil of white water across the sand. The wave paused, and then drew out again, sighing like a sleeper whose breath comes and goes unconsciously. Virginia Woolf</blockquote>
In the above photo, Martin is installing lengths of watercolour paper that she has treated with a cyanotype process over a period of twenty days.<br />
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Nine papers were each washed and exposed simultaneously in the tub in the middle of her space. This happened every two days at times that correspond to the nine interludes in Woolf's novel where she described the coastal scene at various times of day. April Martin isolated the first few words of each of Woolf's interludes to create titles for her cyanotypes.<br />
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The interludes were not put into the space until the final day as during most of the exhibition they were drying in her studio. In fact there was a performance every other day as part of the exhibition. <br />
Follow <a href="http://april-martin.com/">this link</a> to see photos.<br />
<br />
<i>"During the 20 day exhibition I will make 10 cyano type prints that respond to the sun's changing position in the sky, using sun and water. The prints wash and expose themselves in the gallery and then are moved to my studio in another building where they are dried and displayed</i>." April Martin<br />
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On May 16 (graduation day), she moved the last of the cyanotypes into the gallery..<br />
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<i>My studio is a scaled down space to observe the perpetual motion and aliveness of things. I set up physical exchanges between dry and wet materials that appear if only for an instant, to slow or stop time. Formally it is a container for activity, and sculpturally many of my works address this contained boundary, threatening to overflow, to flood and leak. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Outside where the scale shifts, and the permeable drywall boundaries of my studio fall away, everything is different. Weather stacks itself into the present daily form made from dry/wet and hot/cold exchanges. We experience it in the moment we spend with it, it blows our body, it drips down, burns the back of our neck; it moves itself inside of us. </i>April Anne Martin<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwD-Ywq_unhtyBtYxd2TIXDSoECijtb5C7pXOIpYW5RUvZpWiFBGRGxArQQV26uGtYKNEWB6bU43B_NtdBT-63aELQck6HW5HjsRAyAe443ErVmhR9jKw0KWbz0wQcUX0susfDBA108hQ/s1600/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwD-Ywq_unhtyBtYxd2TIXDSoECijtb5C7pXOIpYW5RUvZpWiFBGRGxArQQV26uGtYKNEWB6bU43B_NtdBT-63aELQck6HW5HjsRAyAe443ErVmhR9jKw0KWbz0wQcUX0susfDBA108hQ/s400/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">from left to right, Th<span style="text-align: start;">e sun had not yet risen, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun rose higher, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun rose, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun, risen, no longer couched on a green mattress darting a fitful glance through watery jewels, bared its face and looked straight over the waves. T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun had risen to its full height, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun no longer stood in the middle of the sky, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun had now sunk lower in the sky, T</span><span style="text-align: start;">he sun was sinking, N</span><span style="text-align: start;">ow the sun had sunk. </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7kD0Fnop_Fj1-G0H07ziJe3-rqOrp52FC0LVp4HGLAaoXeNPBYXG-oQSxNn5xr8EYr6F-FcgFViTtLZRnuYft8Z2-5uHLgWVIvLSjoK6pMvI3HST3o-tWlBGQ_NBGCKv15IYYhntmMD8B/s1600/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7kD0Fnop_Fj1-G0H07ziJe3-rqOrp52FC0LVp4HGLAaoXeNPBYXG-oQSxNn5xr8EYr6F-FcgFViTtLZRnuYft8Z2-5uHLgWVIvLSjoK6pMvI3HST3o-tWlBGQ_NBGCKv15IYYhntmMD8B/s400/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-7.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Sea Rose</i> 2016 pad of graph paper with evaporated salt and miracle gro' 11" h </td></tr>
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Another modernist woman writer, H.D. (Hilda Doolittle)'s poem <a href="http://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/sea-rose/">Sea Rose</a> gave the artist a title for her paper sculpture in the window. (shown above)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgLI4DopQqEoGxYtPL3tJD_U-EEO_8v3qcZNAZ8dnTrYmhF5mBJoiy_8V2J0N9GIW7FNIshMXAn4KZaQQsvSgqJHzJ8PLi_yUyNl51HvvHBAwqlv_WAuVzy_-5kb80zy5eSk2kbGqlzz5/s1600/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgLI4DopQqEoGxYtPL3tJD_U-EEO_8v3qcZNAZ8dnTrYmhF5mBJoiy_8V2J0N9GIW7FNIshMXAn4KZaQQsvSgqJHzJ8PLi_yUyNl51HvvHBAwqlv_WAuVzy_-5kb80zy5eSk2kbGqlzz5/s640/april-anne-martin-mfa-graduate-exhibition-10.jpg" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sun Had Not Yet Risen 2016 copper 10 ' h x 3 ' w, April Martin<br />
this photo taken around 8 pm, the blind is closed</td></tr>
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The vertical copper sculpture reacts to and holds the light and heat of the sun. It changes with the time of day, but it seems to be timeless. I will close this post with one more quote by a modernist poet. This is from Marianne Moore's poem <a href="https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/when-i-buy-pictures">When I Buy Pictures</a><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"It must be lit with piercing glances into the life of things; </i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>It must acknowledge the spiritual forces which have made it"</i></blockquote>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-37633235410763363312015-04-30T20:29:00.002-04:002015-05-01T07:01:38.609-04:00Susan Lordi Marker<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasAnUNzpwLR4e5r5udqYZRQnCTgCqm7230aW4xmA3ZOBMKohdZSMWM0Ca3fz5t1K-BcT1mgWFVdLGvlCl1QlyzBca317bh_ts1Ehr7MHgCU1hkJhZZw2wiPbTzBWoCQpL4ZESpAL9FvHl/s1600/susan-lordi-marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhasAnUNzpwLR4e5r5udqYZRQnCTgCqm7230aW4xmA3ZOBMKohdZSMWM0Ca3fz5t1K-BcT1mgWFVdLGvlCl1QlyzBca317bh_ts1Ehr7MHgCU1hkJhZZw2wiPbTzBWoCQpL4ZESpAL9FvHl/s1600/susan-lordi-marker.jpg" height="640" width="344" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soulskin: Seeding the Prairie 1999 nylon, iron, copper, pigment 76 x 41 x 3 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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When Susan Lordi Marker was a little girl, her mother took her to museums.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2rX1RgnclsWDTI-E1593y-X1En2oPa1jtnGiv3TlfXHnKh30WhjjS-oZNTnxO_D-2jOa-MuIgelNEkYgRcNVElP7xwpigdZeKyJYJQ_w_R3PlYCrXp8ssD2qZHsDqXcJMeiS5VehpIOj/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ2rX1RgnclsWDTI-E1593y-X1En2oPa1jtnGiv3TlfXHnKh30WhjjS-oZNTnxO_D-2jOa-MuIgelNEkYgRcNVElP7xwpigdZeKyJYJQ_w_R3PlYCrXp8ssD2qZHsDqXcJMeiS5VehpIOj/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-1.jpg" height="332" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Damiana's Cloth 1991 rayon, silk, thread, 22 x 25 x 3 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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She also traveled to Sicily to visit relatives. She was given vintage garments and other textiles by the older generations she met there. She heard their stories and the old proverbs.<br />
<br />
Damiana is the name of Susan Lordi Marker's great grandmother. In the piece above, although text is visible among the layers, we can't read it. Lordi Marker's use of text is as symbol of experience and knowledge. It communicates without naming.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZaqfBFzU_1JwSrXlpH_wrUr5wSOvq9-MbAm1WbcXZsCvYqiDyFF7GwKbwWVUZjJNOpkxlzlm6RYDybSp8c4VkZE_dlvztJ4W9_rhaRbzXzGG6Z5Wb5LX08CNJoyC7O1LMU1bYqQ81-3m/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZaqfBFzU_1JwSrXlpH_wrUr5wSOvq9-MbAm1WbcXZsCvYqiDyFF7GwKbwWVUZjJNOpkxlzlm6RYDybSp8c4VkZE_dlvztJ4W9_rhaRbzXzGG6Z5Wb5LX08CNJoyC7O1LMU1bYqQ81-3m/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-3.jpg" height="640" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Excavation: Soulskin #11 1997 linen blend, thread, dye, pigment 66 x 34 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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She realized later that the tangible objects that she was given were evidence that those people had been alive. That they were marked by wear made them metaphors for her relatives' life experience.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6N6fcyI5evjDumY34Nj8G_hn2K3f_pM-_OctTNxHWn8FRQDsN3hugkjqAChaS-GuF7oZZUgOGlIvJAqquOBifggsDZiEGJ43F5sfpT2ccQRBu9XUPJCdIhnjGalesQqHLOMNsOD_dX5by/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6N6fcyI5evjDumY34Nj8G_hn2K3f_pM-_OctTNxHWn8FRQDsN3hugkjqAChaS-GuF7oZZUgOGlIvJAqquOBifggsDZiEGJ43F5sfpT2ccQRBu9XUPJCdIhnjGalesQqHLOMNsOD_dX5by/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-4.jpg" height="400" width="346" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Excavation: Soulskin #11 1997 detail Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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In her early work, she experimented with using the actual clothing. Pale shapes of a woman's dress floats on a ground of asymemetrical spirals on a fabric made sheer with burn out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_EJciofTDMA1oOnX9CZ2b_Ahtdj5Id0HP2HfCvtBeFA_P-_AjTIwsd7VXW2GEI0K6wEyOeutB1LRSikU9cTLNTm4Gk8t7kGAUyseUhY0sCeNnImVH8boh4vCAm4VwR1Ey-vuYbCeGElB/s1600/helianthus+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_EJciofTDMA1oOnX9CZ2b_Ahtdj5Id0HP2HfCvtBeFA_P-_AjTIwsd7VXW2GEI0K6wEyOeutB1LRSikU9cTLNTm4Gk8t7kGAUyseUhY0sCeNnImVH8boh4vCAm4VwR1Ey-vuYbCeGElB/s1600/helianthus+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" height="254" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a remnant: Helionthus 2010 linen blend, gold leaf, thread, dyed 48 x 84 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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Trained as a scientist in her first degree, she went back to school when her children were little and received an MFA degree with honours from the University of Kansas in 1993.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEacZUUe-EmV4xFYmouYFpez7RcrZD0o0fnMjcHk1Bh_fSISE8LDhsFBW7S8lr2BXVaxmqdejYa7G5SiLGvm3F0hLA9Kz546lcNTOyApdr5SnF_oZcEvZsHcc60WIYqc9ZCJnAwzTI7FkE/s1600/cricket+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEacZUUe-EmV4xFYmouYFpez7RcrZD0o0fnMjcHk1Bh_fSISE8LDhsFBW7S8lr2BXVaxmqdejYa7G5SiLGvm3F0hLA9Kz546lcNTOyApdr5SnF_oZcEvZsHcc60WIYqc9ZCJnAwzTI7FkE/s1600/cricket+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" height="354" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">soulskin: cricket 2007 silk, dye, thread 96 x 84 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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She then studied with Joy Boutrup at the Kansas City Art Institute and learned ways to layer, fuse, and otherwise manipulate cloth. She learned about cloque (lye crimping) and devore (chemical burn-out), two methods that make her textile work unique. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuK2dBULG2QYAfnHwgFj-aFFI-q6hNRKxCCQnqEDHDg53nVutuSBd81kktYF35nAoruiayVdMHHbO7bqnDo4bazR7OUvwEJi3vH2bRwraPLibz6iST2uURou3buy__ukdpq4Py1be21Az/s1600/fieldissown+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuK2dBULG2QYAfnHwgFj-aFFI-q6hNRKxCCQnqEDHDg53nVutuSBd81kktYF35nAoruiayVdMHHbO7bqnDo4bazR7OUvwEJi3vH2bRwraPLibz6iST2uURou3buy__ukdpq4Py1be21Az/s1600/fieldissown+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" height="213" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the field is sewn 2010 silk, dye, thread 30 x 48 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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little marks<br />
metals<br />
cloth that is hung away from the wall so that it moves<br />
it breathes<br />
it casts a shadow<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk_CLv3jAKN0E1SpqvOxZkrlnhZ-JBT9EN9aGZKyDefI8Dgfy6tJrHrH2SC2U2Chyphenhyphen_nk4x2Kxx7tTfBQNK1yPBskBFbMWRNb9O9V7qspnzD0cwPKjZjge1ZqqHCFbBPVXcp7mRy9EtLXn/s1600/susan+lordi+marker+dragonfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk_CLv3jAKN0E1SpqvOxZkrlnhZ-JBT9EN9aGZKyDefI8Dgfy6tJrHrH2SC2U2Chyphenhyphen_nk4x2Kxx7tTfBQNK1yPBskBFbMWRNb9O9V7qspnzD0cwPKjZjge1ZqqHCFbBPVXcp7mRy9EtLXn/s1600/susan+lordi+marker+dragonfly.jpg" height="354" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">soulskin: sun, lake, dragonfly 2000 linen blend, dye, pigment, gold leaf, devore 90 x 54 inches Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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Susan Lordi Marker noticed that cloth has an ability to survive. In fact, it became more evocative through the variety of harsh chemical processes she imposed on it. Stronger in a way. More unique. To the artist, this makes cloth a metaphor for life itself.<br />
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Her work is about the essence of cloth. <br />
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"You must pull from within to access the universal" Susan Lordi Marker<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ey2OVLlWBsXwo3z2P_mtAGRvhm9cRGpBt9FyXBb1zo7cZB2LNMcYmKYzcb4eRPegfJDLOLj_tNUE_MEHdRSX3ey_EnoIyjFGPAxD2lIs9999gwostEZJvlONs8F-u3AgsM2X5007Fs3R/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ey2OVLlWBsXwo3z2P_mtAGRvhm9cRGpBt9FyXBb1zo7cZB2LNMcYmKYzcb4eRPegfJDLOLj_tNUE_MEHdRSX3ey_EnoIyjFGPAxD2lIs9999gwostEZJvlONs8F-u3AgsM2X5007Fs3R/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-8.jpg" height="325" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">soulskin: sun, lake, dragonfly detail Susan Lordi Marker</td></tr>
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Currently, Susan Lordi Marker is working on a line of gift ware called Willow Tree. She makes original figures based on her observations of life models. She speaks<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5T2jVDkai4"> here</a> about how her small sculptures are for the giver (who will purchase the piece to express an emotion) than they are about the object itself. Lordi Marker believes that there is a personal connection for both giver and receiver. Read more about the artist's work with Willow Tree <a href="http://www.willowtree.com/wt-about-susan-lordi/wt-about-susan-lordi,default,pg.html">here</a>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N4LgcnRNEoEjDMykkcps8acFMU1XDqiUCZDVE7QW0O6MCjBuhDQAbP_w5DPqMXb4mw8P6o7F6OIIByRAj8ePa-JZsaUdJupAFdEt1bMP-qvvuAjL4LyjAIFgQvLPlg8rOO5J6SiMKhHh/s1600/photo+of+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N4LgcnRNEoEjDMykkcps8acFMU1XDqiUCZDVE7QW0O6MCjBuhDQAbP_w5DPqMXb4mw8P6o7F6OIIByRAj8ePa-JZsaUdJupAFdEt1bMP-qvvuAjL4LyjAIFgQvLPlg8rOO5J6SiMKhHh/s1600/photo+of+susan+lordi+marker.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Susan Lordi Marker in her prairie</td></tr>
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The artist continues to restore a piece of land in Missouri, re-seeding it with prairie grasses.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac-Z3SXH609aUZaxmYXD-zqxUJUWsTm6l9F8Gut4f7s86b6bDr2I3hkWShuBUVAwqkW0tOkYWTTQV4H8se2vuS0LGr-xBsV1XGcuTKO2EvD3jRG5phoSTwr21h6As8k0dKdzGLTwHj8dR/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac-Z3SXH609aUZaxmYXD-zqxUJUWsTm6l9F8Gut4f7s86b6bDr2I3hkWShuBUVAwqkW0tOkYWTTQV4H8se2vuS0LGr-xBsV1XGcuTKO2EvD3jRG5phoSTwr21h6As8k0dKdzGLTwHj8dR/s1600/susan-lordi-marker-5.jpg" height="400" width="340" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seeding The Prairie: Detail Susan Lordi Marker </td></tr>
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Susan Lordi Marker and her powerful one of a kind cloths have left a mark in the world.<br />
She has been an influence.<br />
<br />
The aesthetic of time is in each piece. <br />
The aesthetic of labour.<br />
The work of the work.<br />
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These pieces also remind us of the organic rhythm of nature, evoked here with these small dimensional marks.<br />
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The images in this post are from the official website for Susan Lordi Marker's fine art textiles and also from the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Susan-Lordi-Marker-Portfolio-Collection/dp/190201541X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1430441199&sr=8-1&keywords=susan+lordi+marker">Telos Portfolio on the artist</a>, published in 2003 with an essay by Hildreth York. Go to <a href="http://susanlordimarker.com/">the artist's website</a> for more information and detail images. Thank you and acknowledgements to Ms York for her informative essay.Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-70245027625592223702015-02-19T01:28:00.000-05:002015-02-22T04:23:55.281-05:00Reiko Sudo and Nuno<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A post about the recent exhibition at the <a href="http://mvtm.ca/mvtm/">Mississippi Valley Textile Museum</a>, Almonte Ontario, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBUuAr-vebg">Reiko Sudo </a>and Nuno: Textiles from Japan<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ULsZxDC58Q77DqNnhyphenhyphenklhoiNfQi8HDImkboKRuMvFvXINsa_TVPrKx1uSQARHz7yGMWsIN1UhEfnBVjZs9P1QDeWofNwJ3-qGFArBL4ucNoebAujaYTnwqjfY6W5KGFc6vMX867AhpuB/s1600/nuno-exhibition-paper-roll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ULsZxDC58Q77DqNnhyphenhyphenklhoiNfQi8HDImkboKRuMvFvXINsa_TVPrKx1uSQARHz7yGMWsIN1UhEfnBVjZs9P1QDeWofNwJ3-qGFArBL4ucNoebAujaYTnwqjfY6W5KGFc6vMX867AhpuB/s1600/nuno-exhibition-paper-roll.jpg" height="400" width="322" /></a></div>
Curated by Alan C. Elder from the Canadian Museum of Civilization, the exhibition was designed by Reiko Sudo in the wabi sabi - beautiful Norah Rosamond Hughes Gallery, a re-configured space in what used used to be <a href="http://www.heritagetrust.on.ca/Conservation/Conservation-easements/Visit-our-easement-properties/Eastern-Ontario/Mississippi-Valley-Textile-Museum-%28Mississippi-Mil.aspx">a working woolen weaving factory </a>. In the above photo, one of the twenty -two columns is wrapped red polyester fabric,<i> Paper Roll</i> 2002, a chemical lace embroidery designed by Reiko Sudo in 2002.<br />
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When Alan C, Elder showed <a href="http://www.thespacebetween.org.au/presenters.html">Reiko Sudo</a> images of the gallery, she focused her attention on the columns that line up in the temporary exhibition space and dressed them in her original fabrics. The white pleated and slashed polyester screen on one of the walls is named <i>Tanabata, </i>and was designed in 2004 by Reiko Sudo and Hiroko Suwa. (Tanabata is a traditional annual festival. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, girls pray to become good at sewing by decorating bamboo with folded paper charms. <br />
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<i> Scrapyard,</i> 1994 designed by Reiko Sudo and Hiroko Suwa. Rust dyeing, 100% rayon and iron.<br />
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This exhibition was not only serenely beautiful, it was also very informative for those of us interested in surface design. A dedicated wall of samples served to explain the variety of processes used to create the fabrics was an integral part of the exhibit. <i>Scrapyard</i> was made by laying damp fabric on a square of rusty iron, shown above.<br />
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Length of time was the variable in how densely the material would be coloured.<br />
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The exhibition was in Canada from July 11 - November 22, 2014) and celebrated the 30th anniversary of NUNO, the Tokyo based textile studio, and Reiko Sudo's association with it.<br />
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The natural light and the decrepit stone walls of the historic building added to the elegance and mystery of these minimalist yet sensuous fabrics. Above, <i>Cracked Denim Rounds</i>, 2010 designed by Reiko Sudo and Hiroko Suwa. Burnout and bonding, cotton and polyester.<br />
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Denim was originally a French twill called serge de Nimes.<br />
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<i> Flower Almanac</i> , 2006 designed by Reiko Sudo. Jacquard weave, 100 percent cotton.<br />
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A double weave in threads of different hefts and twists.<br />
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detail of<i> Skylights, </i>2012 designed by Reiko Sudo. Another double weave. 98% cotton, 2% polyurethane.<br />
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left: <i>Kamaboko Stripe</i>, 2014 Designed by Reiko Sudo, jacquard weave, 100% cotton, Right: <i>Skylights 2012.</i><br />
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Visitors were invited to touch the samples.<br />
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By handling the cloth and reading the details, we learn.<br />
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Congratulations to Michael Rikley-Lancaster, Executive Director and Curator of the Mississippi Valley Textile Museum, and to all of the many who were involved in bringing such an important international exhibition to Almonte. A catalog of the exhibition<a href="http://mvtm.ca/mvtm/?page_id=2878"> is available from the museum</a>, with essays by Alen C. Elder, Naomi Pollock and Yoko Imai accompanying photographs of each cloth.Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-38015488643595357322014-05-05T04:03:00.000-04:002015-04-07T20:40:52.568-04:00Dorothy Caldwell<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZAekI_XgkeZSRQwyKtaF79O5cAPHqRe7W7eKWSW5W9kFmZmwtCPajYfZvduf5yTwt1rSh6zOyx1RdnzJNhkPq-dxgXmxcQzV5N4GDvjlJpsxfh5r2aUvVvkGtUWPC8wkbqh_jHDBQLe8/s1600/IMG_4299.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZAekI_XgkeZSRQwyKtaF79O5cAPHqRe7W7eKWSW5W9kFmZmwtCPajYfZvduf5yTwt1rSh6zOyx1RdnzJNhkPq-dxgXmxcQzV5N4GDvjlJpsxfh5r2aUvVvkGtUWPC8wkbqh_jHDBQLe8/s1600/IMG_4299.gif" height="400" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><i>Flying Over Salt Lakes</i>,<br />
stitching on cotton with earth ochre, approximately 13" x 16", 2013</td></tr>
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Dorothy Caldwell has become an icon for textile artists, exhibiting and teaching around the world. We Canadians claim her as our own, as she has lived in Ontario since the mid seventies, relocating here from the USA. The images in this post are of Dorothy Caldwell's latest exhibition, Silent Ice, Deep Patience, installed in the <a href="http://www.agp.on.ca/exhibitions.php">Art Gallery of Peterborough</a> March 21 until June 22, 2014. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left: <i>Map Without Words</i><br />
9 feet, 4 inches, x 8 feet, 5 inches, Right: <i>Silent Ice/Deep Patience</i>, 23" x 23". both 2013</td></tr>
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Upon entering, the viewer descends a long ramp towards the main exhibition space, welcomed by five small paintings made with hand stitch and earth ochres (see top photo) on the ramp's wall. Then, through an opening in that wall, the two pieces shown above beckon. Large scale, empty space, intimate marks. We are in Caldwell country.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADeVoRdSJdS_NejspRTSaxfsPcJZWmoNR0nsWsMKtcLOjv_Hcv3eaI1r55IFtd-32LBJUdSkk21e-xewMwxCMlqh0UgU1rIX-GredyVUxhNQzbjZmCvoKHryEVfKnx_8ozXsAn_RGR5g0/s1600/IMG_4309.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADeVoRdSJdS_NejspRTSaxfsPcJZWmoNR0nsWsMKtcLOjv_Hcv3eaI1r55IFtd-32LBJUdSkk21e-xewMwxCMlqh0UgU1rIX-GredyVUxhNQzbjZmCvoKHryEVfKnx_8ozXsAn_RGR5g0/s1600/IMG_4309.gif" height="231" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Wandering Time</i>,<br />
approximately 24" x 18", wax and silkscreen resist on cotton with stitching, 2011</td></tr>
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In many of her pieces, Caldwell lines up coloured patches along edges. She draws our eye up to the sky, then over to the west and the east, and then brings it back to the centre. Line drawings are couched onto the surfaces, like trails. Archetypal vessel shapes resonate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJpt4_78I8c_Dl3j6ZNPxsCICjsvobEf0q-_WFtyFTSlQ_enljsCpvkkZ3LAAhn0vnsrqN32lvC5I8TqQy6VF27XQCSdSXpBzpt4axIn-lbL6fZxJM_bwAvTNEV-s_vyJvtQZ6cp_3vEJ/s1600/IMG_4307.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJpt4_78I8c_Dl3j6ZNPxsCICjsvobEf0q-_WFtyFTSlQ_enljsCpvkkZ3LAAhn0vnsrqN32lvC5I8TqQy6VF27XQCSdSXpBzpt4axIn-lbL6fZxJM_bwAvTNEV-s_vyJvtQZ6cp_3vEJ/s1600/IMG_4307.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>wandering time</i>, 2011, detail</td></tr>
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Dorothy Caldwell's stitches recall the random repetition of the small marks we are familiar with in nature. Leaves fluttering in the wind, ripples in the water. Some large, some small, some linear, some a splotch, some widely spaced, others packed together. Footprints on a beach.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeflcP64cyy3gOiHbBF0NTPMW0ngcAA370rQCOsZnc2s8Yg9G9E2bevPHf7l7UfGTI5C9Ut3xCP8ysJWuXUFBBPO5m1sx9iYGDQGuFOtHybM6K2tojbAdfIPrp38x_FGaby8btpSbWD46L/s1600/IMG_4308.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeflcP64cyy3gOiHbBF0NTPMW0ngcAA370rQCOsZnc2s8Yg9G9E2bevPHf7l7UfGTI5C9Ut3xCP8ysJWuXUFBBPO5m1sx9iYGDQGuFOtHybM6K2tojbAdfIPrp38x_FGaby8btpSbWD46L/s1600/IMG_4308.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><i>wandering time</i>, 2011, detail<br />
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"My work is an ongoing investigation of the meaning of place. I investigate how humans mark and shape the land and how those human marks interact with the natural geology." Dorothy Caldwell<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Q8WUUNccCeDd0fHyOGfRQlig6e5d-DRp9tCVwZPdBCTxRbQWbB5BmpHuJ3RZiDXfIm5NIlOVRpNPEaQZlFtCVhKVB3auAMDYrGEJa9d_F82zuWt57swNjCkn3pxkbbdvhYP-Ww2PsatC/s1600/IMG_4319.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Q8WUUNccCeDd0fHyOGfRQlig6e5d-DRp9tCVwZPdBCTxRbQWbB5BmpHuJ3RZiDXfIm5NIlOVRpNPEaQZlFtCVhKVB3auAMDYrGEJa9d_F82zuWt57swNjCkn3pxkbbdvhYP-Ww2PsatC/s1600/IMG_4319.gif" height="400" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Map Without Words,</i><br />
wax and silk screen resist on cotton, stitching, applique, 9'4" x 8'5", 2013</td></tr>
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We often meet in the centre in Dorothy Caldwell's world. Four corners, four patch, grids, crosses, grid the large unknown to make sense of it. There is order within chaos here. Human geography. </div>
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This body of work is the result of the artist's travels to the Australian Outback and the Canadian Arctic. Interested for decades in how humans mark the land, (previous exhibitions Field Notes (1998) and Ground Cover (2000) this current exploration of wilderness landscapes is a continuation for the artist. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Map without Words</i>, detail</td></tr>
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Dorothy Caldwell uses cloth as a vehicle to translate her observations because cloth is like the land. Cloth reacts as land does to human intervention. Simple actions like wearing, mending, stitching and patching make marks on cloth just as farming, road building, and daily walks mark the earth.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FPOl5hPF4eTzMaq7nPCIMDi1Nr17XHSBdJldHRFr62Xo23Ti8RnSUcjYMFbiaLf6-D6fwL5AeCr7rPw1R67-z8mtaRPfD1GnCgtsWxlpS2yhuONG25atxGiYXSR99raQh_4f0pv4H_vt/s1600/IMG_4326.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FPOl5hPF4eTzMaq7nPCIMDi1Nr17XHSBdJldHRFr62Xo23Ti8RnSUcjYMFbiaLf6-D6fwL5AeCr7rPw1R67-z8mtaRPfD1GnCgtsWxlpS2yhuONG25atxGiYXSR99raQh_4f0pv4H_vt/s1600/IMG_4326.gif" height="380" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Red Hill, A Green Hill</i>,<br />
ink wash, earth ochre on cotton with stitching and applique, 9'4" x 9'8" 2012</td></tr>
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In the large scale tactile painting shown above, Caldwell applied ink wash and earth pigments to the cloth as a change from her usual resisted dye or discharge methods. Thoughtfulness is evident. The aesthetics of time and touch, evident.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Red Hill, A Green Hill,</i> detail</td></tr>
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Small patches and marks that drift into atmospheric hazes when seen at a distance, are unique and very real human habitations upon close inspection. The big thread used in the waves of rugged stitching along the lower quarter of this wall piece was rubbed with earth and connects with the viewer on many levels.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2h1y2hIM78wiRrYGHL60wTMfjqjNw9a2xqGihwlij9vMMSY8AgHr8A3wYLiEsrRMxWTlHy9PhSmuvZmJHsSqkmu8hZjNvDaUGo7flC02fzBSKK064kvyMJZMfE9NvWzu8pv3UE7UwSAB3/s1600/IMG_4328.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2h1y2hIM78wiRrYGHL60wTMfjqjNw9a2xqGihwlij9vMMSY8AgHr8A3wYLiEsrRMxWTlHy9PhSmuvZmJHsSqkmu8hZjNvDaUGo7flC02fzBSKK064kvyMJZMfE9NvWzu8pv3UE7UwSAB3/s1600/IMG_4328.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Red Hill, A Green Hill</i> , detail</td></tr>
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"I am intrigued by maps and by the organization of land through patterns of settlement and agriculture. I have come to see the dichotomy between conventional mapping that identifies intimate landmarks and simplifies them into abstract shapes and textures." Dorothy Caldwell<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkgyqYW5aCLYetjSXauDSHf-OhWdDnBUXCn_-ziudBk1CZihjZtll2RylJ5e4aQgIWsUx9PId1lU5-slA7_0KXitRBKY9N4P114Oc-QecTFiysuoz6WDerdAbsfsT7ntLaRPdgeJEAz1w/s1600/IMG_4336.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrkgyqYW5aCLYetjSXauDSHf-OhWdDnBUXCn_-ziudBk1CZihjZtll2RylJ5e4aQgIWsUx9PId1lU5-slA7_0KXitRBKY9N4P114Oc-QecTFiysuoz6WDerdAbsfsT7ntLaRPdgeJEAz1w/s1600/IMG_4336.gif" height="400" width="386" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>How Do We Know When It Is Night? </i><br />
wax and silkscreen resist on cotton, stitch and applique, 10 feet by 9 feet 6 inches, 2010</td></tr>
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Little patches along each edge and down the centre,<br />
bowls drawn as if with a giant pencil,<br />
duality, in and out<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzKGULqEMkMTuipV_XcWQnu0NoCXECAAKUQbYiX4yy-GXk6bmEVpCrx7IuS1rao8dcEHC0iZYP6vZl2qN_LR59xx3fAGS1ApVZBA23McYfYc5ClT-vOvBDB1NOXWmgus85xEM2dO3EpEj/s1600/IMG_4337.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzKGULqEMkMTuipV_XcWQnu0NoCXECAAKUQbYiX4yy-GXk6bmEVpCrx7IuS1rao8dcEHC0iZYP6vZl2qN_LR59xx3fAGS1ApVZBA23McYfYc5ClT-vOvBDB1NOXWmgus85xEM2dO3EpEj/s1600/IMG_4337.gif" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How Do We Know It' Night? detail</td></tr>
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"Caldwell tells students that what an artist needs to learn more than anything is how to make time for their art" <a href="http://troutinplaid.com/2013/08/31/dorothy-caldwell/"> Ann Jaeger</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuyioC1aPXuOqQKA2LK6DbvfM0Rnmr0yUCNhcVN467FWzrKEYilchA9h4HQbx7QbK4l8Kq2QrDCCmBM1i0ycM_9wGSH1VVACCKyXb5D0X336wAXlpUYxQStId_WAs2qbT7oX_zxAz7MOG/s1600/IMG_4338.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuyioC1aPXuOqQKA2LK6DbvfM0Rnmr0yUCNhcVN467FWzrKEYilchA9h4HQbx7QbK4l8Kq2QrDCCmBM1i0ycM_9wGSH1VVACCKyXb5D0X336wAXlpUYxQStId_WAs2qbT7oX_zxAz7MOG/s1600/IMG_4338.gif" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How Do We Know It's Night? Detail</td></tr>
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Caldwell's large pieces have balance, stillness<br />
They cause us to think beyond the gallery<br />
about the vastness of nature and how nature has its own system.<br />
The larger seasonal cycles, the many small parts within vastness.<br />
That human marks are revealed by time and accumulation,<br />
then erased by wind, eroded by water, hazed over by weather.<br />
Stain of earth, footprint of man, animal tracks through the forest,<br />
like poetry, these things occur one by one and resonate with personal experiences that don't always have anything to do with land, more with relationships.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2p9rMFHAlqga_WiSCHy8BhY4jdWHXUP-VfcpHJ_hP8ihgN7bKimLi3bwtB2RFFAEPaUU7cCwGFn3SrkeTXmQzbrVqrTK45hyphenhyphenssCND9MGWaedwD368f6z_Wl9ViU2ia_NV1eQLgt9fH5T/s1600/IMG_4340.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2p9rMFHAlqga_WiSCHy8BhY4jdWHXUP-VfcpHJ_hP8ihgN7bKimLi3bwtB2RFFAEPaUU7cCwGFn3SrkeTXmQzbrVqrTK45hyphenhyphenssCND9MGWaedwD368f6z_Wl9ViU2ia_NV1eQLgt9fH5T/s1600/IMG_4340.gif" height="400" width="388" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Signs</i>,<br />
wax and silkscreen resist on cotton,stitching, applique, 8'9" x 8'0", 2014</td></tr>
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The artist's most recent large work returns to her preferred methods of marking large pieces of cloth with resist techniques. The subtle grid of the ground, a new linear shape, and the painted squares and crescents dotting the interior are atmospheric.<br />
<br />
"Maps give a viewpoint of the land filtered through what is important to the mapmaker. I am mapping unfamiliar territory, identifying my personal landmarks through gathering, touching and recording the contents of the landscape. In this way I form a sense of place for myself." Dorothy Caldwell <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kIQEmbp4OpoIcbeSBOINb29G9lLP5QlyPpJ4TeI99mcfhYxyu3CL8HNjAK-427MxUkVj0K_fJRl7C70smWm9TLbVzLuIQ9iIvnzlz_KIiZJf-eTRMryTLMrGHVDNOMyKYCkJlWPD6AP0/s1600/IMG_4342.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kIQEmbp4OpoIcbeSBOINb29G9lLP5QlyPpJ4TeI99mcfhYxyu3CL8HNjAK-427MxUkVj0K_fJRl7C70smWm9TLbVzLuIQ9iIvnzlz_KIiZJf-eTRMryTLMrGHVDNOMyKYCkJlWPD6AP0/s1600/IMG_4342.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sign</i>s, detail</td></tr>
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This post is about the large scale work but there are also many small pieces exhibited as well as an entire room devoted to the artist's collections of shells, lichens, bones, rusty wires, journal pages, iron nails, and her many books of marks and collected earth pigments. How the artist works with the land to make these 'maps' deserves its own write up. The video of Dorothy Caldwell (click <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OO2pFPaOtWc">here</a>) perhaps fills the gap.<br />
<br />
Other internet sources for this artist:<br />
Ann Jaeger's informative review of Caldwell;s life and work on <a href="http://troutinplaid.com/2013/08/31/dorothy-caldwell/">trout and plaid</a> online journal,<br />
Barbara Lee Smith's curated exhibition catalog <a href="http://issuu.com/greggmuseum/docs/traces">Traces </a>,<br />
as well as Caldwell's <a href="http://dorothycaldwell.com/">own website</a> and <a href="http://ccca.concordia.ca/artists/artist_info.html?languagePref=en&link_id=180">the CCCA artist profile </a>. <br />
<br />
Caldwell's exhibition was shown at the Idea Exchange in winter 2015 and went on to St Mary's University gallery in Halifax for March and April of the same year. This review by akimbo halifax correspondent <a href="http://www.akimbo.ca/akimblog/?id=1003">Daniel High</a>am was published april 7 2015. Good to see some writing about this artist. Joe Lewis also wrote a review in Fibre quarterly....have to find that for you and shall insert it here when I do. xx<br />
<br />
The Dorothy Caldwell quotes in this post are from her statement found in Barbara Lee Smith's essay in the Traces catalog. All photos are from the exhibition and are by Judy Martin with permission from Dorothy Caldwell.</div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-55412073982144238282014-02-07T09:21:00.003-05:002014-02-07T10:45:28.860-05:00Chiyoko Tanaka<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwaTloDJ_a1It0I-PUSiMHKZSJCwZRKzXHqMz9iOmhLAaX7eneZf-cPKSJpdpw_TvLDbyyZFHhe2NLHU6FxRy9FTpQ4bAUq7pFytVoD1eostTC4Uw9zAzF8JuQAMmGqsPsSP6jG4hhpwk/s1600/chiyoko-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwaTloDJ_a1It0I-PUSiMHKZSJCwZRKzXHqMz9iOmhLAaX7eneZf-cPKSJpdpw_TvLDbyyZFHhe2NLHU6FxRy9FTpQ4bAUq7pFytVoD1eostTC4Uw9zAzF8JuQAMmGqsPsSP6jG4hhpwk/s1600/chiyoko-20.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">red stripe #262 1988 24 x 18 cm, hand woven ramie, linen, silk, rubbed with brick</td></tr>
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<i>"Many of my pieces, once woven by hand, are laid down outdoors on the ground or on a rock. I then rub them carefully with a stone or brick. I want to touch the earth through this process, to trace the texture of the ground"</i>. Chiyoko Tanaka<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJNfIZHBJW5fJaneZwtnn-_RFSsonVF5rtOhGYssflefGVrQoTN6-_y8EdC0mJrnjrIlhUH4SC4hSzHhcpzQWJCNgmmO3YYt8xhN72_MxOw_BLMoDX7xVlH_nQDyEDmYzoNaZXYd3Ri-X/s1600/chiyoko-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJNfIZHBJW5fJaneZwtnn-_RFSsonVF5rtOhGYssflefGVrQoTN6-_y8EdC0mJrnjrIlhUH4SC4hSzHhcpzQWJCNgmmO3YYt8xhN72_MxOw_BLMoDX7xVlH_nQDyEDmYzoNaZXYd3Ri-X/s1600/chiyoko-2.jpg" height="210" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> upper: six squares, indigo blue, W #306 1994 lower: six squares, indigo blue, RF #305 1994</td></tr>
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Chiyoko Tanaka, born 1941 Kyoto Japan, is a weaver who thinks about her work philosophically, comparing it to the human condition. British curator, <a href="http://www.transitionandinfluence.com/profile/">Lesley Millar's,</a> essay about Tanaka is included in the <a href="http://www.abebooks.com/Chiyoko-Tanaka-Portfolio-Collection-v-12/10288010531/bd">Telos portfolio</a> about the artist<i> </i>and informs this post. The images of Tanaka's work are from that portfolio and from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Art-Textiles-World-Matthew-Koumis/dp/0952626748">Art Textiles of the World Japan</a> also published by Telos. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmV-Rx-qvWWXuqF0luHmxvv3Orh6-6EA2Vzux95n6FAxew1oAEoqJazfOWAyE3DGekSMLs2owaOJ8Nn-yN4P9yoUo1SJBtJ0B2jUfmIOKuLPE2it3UQs6UTp8gWN-v64TmPhzjat0svGI/s1600/chiyoko-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmV-Rx-qvWWXuqF0luHmxvv3Orh6-6EA2Vzux95n6FAxew1oAEoqJazfOWAyE3DGekSMLs2owaOJ8Nn-yN4P9yoUo1SJBtJ0B2jUfmIOKuLPE2it3UQs6UTp8gWN-v64TmPhzjat0svGI/s1600/chiyoko-1.jpg" height="348" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">six squares indigo blue W #306 detail</td></tr>
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Chiyoko Tanaka uses linen, silk,
and ramie threads. She lays out a long warp which gradually disappears
during the weaving process, covered by the weft.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJJ2LXS1cm7_S2YqOfL9Csh86eBl2iwpidmBOoPG6ZqNJiUxleeGmX_CxdMpw76p5dsVcZZPMWFSAK5BE7GbilhGVeDn4sMENE5zY08ubfD9kD3n8iOSDCDiQpHPoXBjxUr43Y81jBlEK/s1600/chiyoko-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJJ2LXS1cm7_S2YqOfL9Csh86eBl2iwpidmBOoPG6ZqNJiUxleeGmX_CxdMpw76p5dsVcZZPMWFSAK5BE7GbilhGVeDn4sMENE5zY08ubfD9kD3n8iOSDCDiQpHPoXBjxUr43Y81jBlEK/s1600/chiyoko-3.jpg" height="400" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trace of a Leaf #151 1988</td></tr>
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<br />
She considers the vertical warp threads to represent time and the horizontal weft threads to represent space.<br />
The
crossing points of warp and weft physically disappear from view, but
continue to exist as integral to the fabric. The accumulation of the
weft threads represents time passing. When she weaves, she
thinks about the process as one of transformation.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJiWAKtktWDjk4z30VQlSbcWKK1ugU4PTMxWv-bgIn7LEIiLQyfw27gVlL_tPz_sOBU5GFRY6K1N8FPqkDHcR8e5W7Qz0QpFbdpfOho9IOjY8ToTwUPPmdwKPTGedux5B9hYyCxWO5UFt/s1600/chiyoko-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiJiWAKtktWDjk4z30VQlSbcWKK1ugU4PTMxWv-bgIn7LEIiLQyfw27gVlL_tPz_sOBU5GFRY6K1N8FPqkDHcR8e5W7Qz0QpFbdpfOho9IOjY8ToTwUPPmdwKPTGedux5B9hYyCxWO5UFt/s1600/chiyoko-4.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trace of a Leaf #151 detail </td></tr>
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<br />
By grinding her newly woven cloth with earth, she exposes that original warp. She unveils the essence of the fabric. <i>"I feel that my woven work is about time and the human condition."</i> Chiyoko Tanaka<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x4tOuRgm0rFp8oGSRPfNMFHlvlFrRD2DYbpw-imvBJfW4nYav0f3Wqu502FJSjCy1q6iGkwkOBNLrHopSHBjH836Tw3kGOeywFBKsNQrJu9CrANB303qIng5olUFd_6Bp7btnwLgzoYS/s1600/chiyoko-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3x4tOuRgm0rFp8oGSRPfNMFHlvlFrRD2DYbpw-imvBJfW4nYav0f3Wqu502FJSjCy1q6iGkwkOBNLrHopSHBjH836Tw3kGOeywFBKsNQrJu9CrANB303qIng5olUFd_6Bp7btnwLgzoYS/s1600/chiyoko-5.jpg" height="207" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">red stripes on white stripes #646 and #647. both 1985</td></tr>
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Sometimes, instead of
grinding her finished fabrics, she permeates them with mud or oil. Tanaka distresses her fabrics, as if they were human beings going through a
life time of both happy days and days filled with hard ships.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXjFvLtuHglcwi5IeWpfYGnap10KRTyp7DnZBwWbQumt8Up7LLkZxV1VW03kqQcIrmOzTyzBli5_ANVcUpC0noZQeObQtpMumkasikM5sGB805F9OiNTkLhaBwzxHrnmzHm-Em_L-01SE/s1600/chiyoko-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXjFvLtuHglcwi5IeWpfYGnap10KRTyp7DnZBwWbQumt8Up7LLkZxV1VW03kqQcIrmOzTyzBli5_ANVcUpC0noZQeObQtpMumkasikM5sGB805F9OiNTkLhaBwzxHrnmzHm-Em_L-01SE/s1600/chiyoko-6.jpg" height="400" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trace of White Line #641 above, White Line #642 below, both 1985</td></tr>
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<i>"I want to see a spirituality behind a piece of my work."</i> Chiyoko Tanaka<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuW_vKoZAK4XpwB8zbl5F_UwzibEoXwJpIWsdR5trQQMMEu2bfO-CkwXmrMoU8_uajxTdWmOsK72f-TVIWFotkcPlASba4rVHxaVVe1Q5MCTHtQh_iBp7ND2-SVNjy5mzcP4DCy6ehnX-H/s1600/chiyoko-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuW_vKoZAK4XpwB8zbl5F_UwzibEoXwJpIWsdR5trQQMMEu2bfO-CkwXmrMoU8_uajxTdWmOsK72f-TVIWFotkcPlASba4rVHxaVVe1Q5MCTHtQh_iBp7ND2-SVNjy5mzcP4DCy6ehnX-H/s1600/chiyoko-8.jpg" height="380" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Stains on Deep Green Stripes #52 1990</td></tr>
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Tanaka uses bricks of clay from different parts of the world. The
brick is rubbed into the back of the fabric until it changes colour and
at the same time, the face of the material takes on the patina of the
ground.<br />
It's like a performance. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC49sO3yaiZO1asnf_aK54HgZxO__ORdlw_R3C-APO6aJs5yUKOhqVM1PuoreBn4GIPnS6mwvSQU3QiKZiuR8Je1PD5ZL85M0dy3a-I6FcpXEEa1cbz7vzyOWsWPjTbkFaIzfp_oH1sopL/s1600/chiyoko-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC49sO3yaiZO1asnf_aK54HgZxO__ORdlw_R3C-APO6aJs5yUKOhqVM1PuoreBn4GIPnS6mwvSQU3QiKZiuR8Je1PD5ZL85M0dy3a-I6FcpXEEa1cbz7vzyOWsWPjTbkFaIzfp_oH1sopL/s1600/chiyoko-10.jpg" height="183" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Squares, Blue Threads, Sienna #281 1997</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The structural integrity of the warp and weft is revealed. We can see time passing with the erosion of materials, but it is all done in the present moment. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NzF7Vi24iPcDCdqkP6MN5Fa_leMximxs9lLKDy44KQ9gRJaw2NJhZCJuXJzBbHpHqi646kt3xBrhSEK2kaKBDGOQ3wn2xg6iJp3UfbVqNiMVjKx2fQmrhJlrpGePV40HiOJkhBKLUj8y/s1600/chiyoko-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NzF7Vi24iPcDCdqkP6MN5Fa_leMximxs9lLKDy44KQ9gRJaw2NJhZCJuXJzBbHpHqi646kt3xBrhSEK2kaKBDGOQ3wn2xg6iJp3UfbVqNiMVjKx2fQmrhJlrpGePV40HiOJkhBKLUj8y/s1600/chiyoko-11.jpg" height="188" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Squares, Blue Threads and Gray, #671 1997</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tanaka's work makes us aware of time passing, "neither looking for death, nor denying it, but accepting its place in the cycle of renewal" Lesley Millar <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3VMXHH2ec3eS4o8XRvGuO-ZCoCqfaHzeIAXieBIO2-kH-vHMhg60in_tK0d-16ESJOW_TVzmsMz8H8IqbbwQFVIxt12FkEBze9iM5GXT76pnDspiqpVEJxVu0vGCD9iUQD9tRKBLwjsP/s1600/chiyoko-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3VMXHH2ec3eS4o8XRvGuO-ZCoCqfaHzeIAXieBIO2-kH-vHMhg60in_tK0d-16ESJOW_TVzmsMz8H8IqbbwQFVIxt12FkEBze9iM5GXT76pnDspiqpVEJxVu0vGCD9iUQD9tRKBLwjsP/s1600/chiyoko-16.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">left: red earthy clay #200 1985, right: permeated black #400 1986</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Chiyoko Tanaka has an intimacy with nature. She lives on the outskirts of Kyoto, close to natural space. She has an
awareness of the tempo of the natural world and this is the basis of her
work. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeA2Z47nCy8rjgNvzfkNHdgLeVBvV-QqLcqMtY_CbKB7JOVyYWlc_E4hw0304u7Av9xr0yb6DEEImjokN-DBDQ13liI_rZOcAXMwNQQsyOcIPAsTuy3yL_XrwPv4PVQdm6OfTu2UftdxW/s1600/chiyoko-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeA2Z47nCy8rjgNvzfkNHdgLeVBvV-QqLcqMtY_CbKB7JOVyYWlc_E4hw0304u7Av9xr0yb6DEEImjokN-DBDQ13liI_rZOcAXMwNQQsyOcIPAsTuy3yL_XrwPv4PVQdm6OfTu2UftdxW/s1600/chiyoko-7.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Permeated Black #400 1986</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When mud is used as a dye, it is left for a period of time so that it can 'permeate' the cloth. Time is one of Tanaka's most important materials.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4lA4ziPAyvIxVUGxSDZTZlf9FNz1EPkvWdQsh2mrbdFWflO9wTWIDjKfI3w9RzMhyNoat7SkTiWia83NuT1pFIRFPu6X2Br8FF-guIo5gkqHkK6ZH2Gagqu8ZBq3WkH3MP02YsR00m3V/s1600/chiyoko-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4lA4ziPAyvIxVUGxSDZTZlf9FNz1EPkvWdQsh2mrbdFWflO9wTWIDjKfI3w9RzMhyNoat7SkTiWia83NuT1pFIRFPu6X2Br8FF-guIo5gkqHkK6ZH2Gagqu8ZBq3WkH3MP02YsR00m3V/s1600/chiyoko-12.jpg" height="400" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">wall: Blue #100-2 1983, floor: White, B #100-1 2983</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What are you weaving, Chiyoko?<br />
<i>"I am weaving time"</i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmp2EOvmt0qbLDLqXoZumEhPt2ShCvcuJ5QZznzqjEgIRras4qFFAtm7OW2J0-pHa7gavQcOKTCBTW4PGVy2XqBppE1s_QQOtNejpRS4-OmwUUUMwFbyCMFQgt9hsirv9ZTIfj8lyalAD8/s1600/chiyoko-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmp2EOvmt0qbLDLqXoZumEhPt2ShCvcuJ5QZznzqjEgIRras4qFFAtm7OW2J0-pHa7gavQcOKTCBTW4PGVy2XqBppE1s_QQOtNejpRS4-OmwUUUMwFbyCMFQgt9hsirv9ZTIfj8lyalAD8/s1600/chiyoko-19.jpg" height="387" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> white mud cross, red thread #652 1992 19 x 19 cm hand woven ramie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"At the still point of the turning world.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>...neither from nor towards.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>At the still point, there the dance is." T S Eliot</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Chiyoko Tanaka was profiled in 2003 on <a href="http://www.culturebase.net/artist.php?1008">Culturebase </a>and again in 2010 by <a href="http://kyototrip.blogspot.ca/2010/09/chiyoko-tanaka.html">Kate Barber</a> who visited her. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98kzqkfRbMdtbuKQWmHR4_RMgN6TiLMyPYdeuuZHDQAkSrOLHqCsG1EVpjb2mA2_HVScUu_CDP35B2wELepIgLkV1ycX6nsHVk6Zn68Z9YPTx2zVwjUY0Uz_Y_WH-pm4oiD7J65x8ePNg/s1600/chiyoko+tanaka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98kzqkfRbMdtbuKQWmHR4_RMgN6TiLMyPYdeuuZHDQAkSrOLHqCsG1EVpjb2mA2_HVScUu_CDP35B2wELepIgLkV1ycX6nsHVk6Zn68Z9YPTx2zVwjUY0Uz_Y_WH-pm4oiD7J65x8ePNg/s1600/chiyoko+tanaka.jpg" height="175" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mud dots on brown stripes #742, hand woven linen, ramie, dyed with mud 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
She is represented by <a href="http://browngrotta.com/pages/tanaka.php">Brown Grotta </a> source of the above image. (the most recent I could find)</div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-7435632013213748952013-11-11T11:13:00.000-05:002016-11-01T09:36:32.719-04:00Agnes Martin <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAhvglAyQhicjU9iNNGaLU8mkMLZ2Jkp0KFWMBIx5LZSA-k9PPqOsU8Nk9k9LL1mRW9nvYCDv5vZSIYilcwvQGgNucVH68UcOrx0Qr31MTWk1NJAfolykpDVffoQHaLUTbB3MxmOKWvQX/s1600/new-york-215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAhvglAyQhicjU9iNNGaLU8mkMLZ2Jkp0KFWMBIx5LZSA-k9PPqOsU8Nk9k9LL1mRW9nvYCDv5vZSIYilcwvQGgNucVH68UcOrx0Qr31MTWk1NJAfolykpDVffoQHaLUTbB3MxmOKWvQX/s400/new-york-215.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Agnes Martin's Innocent Love 1999 acrylic on canvas series at the Dia Beacon, New York. There are eight paintings in this series, four on each wall. All are 60 inches square. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Q: How do you start a painting?<br />
A: "I wait for inspiration.<br />
I ask my mind - What am I going to paint next? and it appears in my mind. My inspirations are in colour. "<br />
<br />
She
uses mathematics to decide the scale and relation of the colours. She draws
lines with a small ruler because a big ruler pushes the canvas down.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajKvqCy46eYN8KHpUhvaCcLBZrW8mW9GWovZsJFodr8aUS7PngiUqS3qeZfXYL3PWynxSuWUBBq7gP9x129fQOOAHn2kABdXZcKFmwfpgkIJ6CQiZqCmf4PPwYO8MUAyxyVtwp5jGQK1I/s1600/new-york-agnes-martin-happi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajKvqCy46eYN8KHpUhvaCcLBZrW8mW9GWovZsJFodr8aUS7PngiUqS3qeZfXYL3PWynxSuWUBBq7gP9x129fQOOAHn2kABdXZcKFmwfpgkIJ6CQiZqCmf4PPwYO8MUAyxyVtwp5jGQK1I/s400/new-york-agnes-martin-happi.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happiness. Innocent Love series 1999</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Innocence.<br />
<br />
"For twenty years I was not satisfied with my paintings and at the end of every year I had a big fire. "<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5EaxBTKiwIoGqnrdIY6utckLcUc0oPepV3t82Ja5f_p-L1fPbcINATBp6KXTEOExOJPa3PkT1963eIfATlq8H5FdVh3CIHBvDB5krHYkvrYudxC7UmIZ7QZ0q6v1gvPnUxj0BCmQdWKv/s1600/new-yorkagnes-martin-love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5EaxBTKiwIoGqnrdIY6utckLcUc0oPepV3t82Ja5f_p-L1fPbcINATBp6KXTEOExOJPa3PkT1963eIfATlq8H5FdVh3CIHBvDB5krHYkvrYudxC7UmIZ7QZ0q6v1gvPnUxj0BCmQdWKv/s400/new-yorkagnes-martin-love.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love: Innocent Love series 1999</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Waiting for inspiration.<br />
<br />
"I was thinking of innocence, and a
grid came into my mind, and so I painted it. 6 feet by 6 feet and I
liked it. It looked like innocence. And I asked the museum of Modern
Art if they wanted it and they did."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrQSYNbAmUmAzjYA-3uRVeuVfH6ZhknP6bRz2OjyQGpLVxB_nqA-Jo31vEjMGjZGk_jHXxbMwf7d4-NCbSe8-KHkmyu-vrZm_3kxm7dSijlRIPcqyUFZuamg1533iYqVYjdnUajE_jmNJ/s1600/new-yorkagnes-martin-perfec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrQSYNbAmUmAzjYA-3uRVeuVfH6ZhknP6bRz2OjyQGpLVxB_nqA-Jo31vEjMGjZGk_jHXxbMwf7d4-NCbSe8-KHkmyu-vrZm_3kxm7dSijlRIPcqyUFZuamg1533iYqVYjdnUajE_jmNJ/s400/new-yorkagnes-martin-perfec.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Contentment: Innocent Love series 1999</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Sometimes I take a year off so I'll know something,<br />
because when you're painting, you just get up and do it.<br />
You don't know it."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXkmcMLc4ThC3LgPMb3WedMTEcv1LkG3kq1bOpQ3XF-I2YRG2zcbbj1DyApEwzByStKUX27585QClWhO-OhqkXY81MH4Djbe_r0P4gyetmQaERF2qnmHXwbeFxoRSpcOB6N7ZCWvSv-Qi/s1600/new-yorkagnes-martin-dia-be.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXkmcMLc4ThC3LgPMb3WedMTEcv1LkG3kq1bOpQ3XF-I2YRG2zcbbj1DyApEwzByStKUX27585QClWhO-OhqkXY81MH4Djbe_r0P4gyetmQaERF2qnmHXwbeFxoRSpcOB6N7ZCWvSv-Qi/s400/new-yorkagnes-martin-dia-be.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Innocent Love series seen through opening, on the facing wall is The Spring, 1958. 48" square</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Artists are very fortunate. Other working people have to talk to people all day.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You just can't be an artist if you can't be alone.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When you're alone, you are affected by everything. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The sky, nature.. You respond."</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa3vbJgRmQjcEbHh9MQ1GJJeU1b-hUXYd9AhIAv79mEviOP5FGhr79nbhB0WBDmQBhxzy8Bx_YuXc6Qeio_Vmoz_Bprtk1wAucBkFFU2k2YWxRa55hzzJYapuVmTD6cce1apx_IDlon1w/s1600/new-york-agnes-martin-untit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFa3vbJgRmQjcEbHh9MQ1GJJeU1b-hUXYd9AhIAv79mEviOP5FGhr79nbhB0WBDmQBhxzy8Bx_YuXc6Qeio_Vmoz_Bprtk1wAucBkFFU2k2YWxRa55hzzJYapuVmTD6cce1apx_IDlon1w/s400/new-york-agnes-martin-untit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Untitled #16, 2002. The thin paint allows the roughness of the gesso undercoating to be more evident. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"It's not really about nature. It's about what is known forever in the mind.<br />
<br />
The environment doesn't have impact on my work. I don't paint nature."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOfY8z0p0gf0gI4WZWC_b82hFt8T1yrDpnEaacClQIv4L4j3aqpWibbywd0ns44Hz6f_MiBkGtP_8CsATmXT3iatVGb76Q6HKOHLPjQCIOLZnLozFsJjBdS5ycTVp2mxVX7Yg-Y7YDFK8/s1600/new-york-agnes-martin-1959-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOfY8z0p0gf0gI4WZWC_b82hFt8T1yrDpnEaacClQIv4L4j3aqpWibbywd0ns44Hz6f_MiBkGtP_8CsATmXT3iatVGb76Q6HKOHLPjQCIOLZnLozFsJjBdS5ycTVp2mxVX7Yg-Y7YDFK8/s400/new-york-agnes-martin-1959-.jpg" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">untitled 1959, 30 inches square</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"When I draw horizontals - it's expanding<br />
<br />
<br />
I like the horizontal line better than any other. It's not related to landscape.<br />
It goes out.<br />
When you look at the painting you go in over the horizontal line.<br />
<br />
It's like music.<br />
Some
musicians compose music about music.<br />
Beethoven composed music about
experience.<br />
Joy.<br />
Happiness.<br />
It has meaning.<br />
Painters can paint about
painting, but my painting is about meaning.<br />
I use that horizontal line
to get meaning."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZQPr-NQnlVJoOuMDXpY6HLbQ22wmajJKUdkP_0Iu7Og-SA98uM9XnTCLQtkRLC-Q3Elyw6YzcrKQBzhwuS4L9tYcAJGG9DMbJjMxI2sSMRg5H-BkYztWey5m6oi3Y76YOTYx0D0ksrXj/s1600/new-york-agnes-martin-1960-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZQPr-NQnlVJoOuMDXpY6HLbQ22wmajJKUdkP_0Iu7Og-SA98uM9XnTCLQtkRLC-Q3Elyw6YzcrKQBzhwuS4L9tYcAJGG9DMbJjMxI2sSMRg5H-BkYztWey5m6oi3Y76YOTYx0D0ksrXj/s400/new-york-agnes-martin-1960-.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">left: untitled 70", 1960 oil, painted when the artist was 48, right: untitled #17,2002, acrylic, painted at 90 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Minimalism<br />
<br />
"They were non subjective.<br />
No emotions were in the work.<br />
Minimalists tried to be not there. <br />
They wouldn't put their names under the paintings.<br />
They
said to write their names with a number.<br />
People call me a
minimalist, but I'm not.<br />
I'm an abstract expressionist.<br />
I sign my name
on the back."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVQtnm50JTQi-zQx0cbNtit0Xa3w7iJPf9t-chrJ5uKzmEv_-fYzqFeFRdLAV2P4YYAwP28ZrZzcTjVzs_q1TwQ6bFyRvRLlCGqqnoTUTUuJc3VUCwjK5rVF-P8_gQnK2-X3LnYbENO2Ao/s1600/new-york-agnes-martin-penci.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVQtnm50JTQi-zQx0cbNtit0Xa3w7iJPf9t-chrJ5uKzmEv_-fYzqFeFRdLAV2P4YYAwP28ZrZzcTjVzs_q1TwQ6bFyRvRLlCGqqnoTUTUuJc3VUCwjK5rVF-P8_gQnK2-X3LnYbENO2Ao/s400/new-york-agnes-martin-penci.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beach, 6 foot square pencil on white Gesso painting from 1964 - detail. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Empty mind<br />
<br />
"The intellect struggles with facts.<br />
Keep discovering facts, then make a deduction.<br />
But this is just guess work, inadequate.<br />
You won't find out about life.<br />
<br />
I gave up facts in order to have an empty mind.<br />
You have to practice an empty mind.<br />
I gave up being intellectual.<br />
I don't have ideas.<br />
<br />
I'm convinced that with a soft attitude you receive more."<br />
<br />
......................................................................................................<br />
Agnes Martin (1912 - 2004) quotes from Mary Lance's documentary <a href="http://vimeo.com/66194933">With My Back To The World. </a><br />
Images are of Agnes Martin's 2012 installation at the <a href="http://www.diaart.org/exhibitions/main/89">Dia: Beacon.</a> <br />
Another excellent interview with Agnes Martin (1997) is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-JfYjmo5OA">here.</a></div>
Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5358259457290222076.post-78694326288597313322013-01-11T23:11:00.000-05:002013-01-13T03:55:27.623-05:00Lisa di Quinzio<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBtFU7qolvm4a4Legkvv-W6r3fp5F_zcZAEkdkvh0PCEl-LlXLq5zjVPF78KkT71VMK8GRdHJzsFba3AXPeFkQKZOreYvYEosKfjPHT_ElPxGrvdqtJ3Ryune-n2_G8yJFQhQv-KaSE-k/s1600/lisa-012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBtFU7qolvm4a4Legkvv-W6r3fp5F_zcZAEkdkvh0PCEl-LlXLq5zjVPF78KkT71VMK8GRdHJzsFba3AXPeFkQKZOreYvYEosKfjPHT_ElPxGrvdqtJ3Ryune-n2_G8yJFQhQv-KaSE-k/s400/lisa-012.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Left: <i>Wool, Silk and Thread</i> 2010, wool blankets, silk threads, nails, woven, 91 inches diameter<br />
Right: <i>Good Morning Midnight</i>, 2010, burlap, dye, twine, nails, woven, 91 inches diameter<br />
<br />
Installed together in the Quiet Zone exhibition, World of Threads festival, November 2012. <br />
<br />
They are different from each other. <br />
They are the same as each other.<br />
They are opposite colours.<br />
They are both neutrals..<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSInu0DYse4Jhkkse7ugR19cSh74TbTVZKz1g-DdHWm2D09AqtfbUVF5zJciW8yRkzlq0Ohwb4ZTz1pD2WQ7h7_ozHVGG6plYdTeUroHXebc7q5ivT41Zx7IoQQlAsiT_UsQK02FVuvDCy/s1600/lisa-006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSInu0DYse4Jhkkse7ugR19cSh74TbTVZKz1g-DdHWm2D09AqtfbUVF5zJciW8yRkzlq0Ohwb4ZTz1pD2WQ7h7_ozHVGG6plYdTeUroHXebc7q5ivT41Zx7IoQQlAsiT_UsQK02FVuvDCy/s400/lisa-006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
detail of <i>wool, silk and thread</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"</i>My work usually holds some element of gesture"<br />
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detail of <i>good morning midnight</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"</i>I think art should demonstrate the immediate on some level."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6bWGRSKwlUWpP8xqRE7bRCBXA6fZ2Nyxgw_vRZTucx2s0qRAsaK28nDNWsXe87mJsUzYcdJEXnHHqgj_0wsz1jo3c_xV0R-keT6qosfACUoVpbR_ASBtS8-pgu8_FkLZvh5PcCp3Wo5VG/s1600/9.Misty-Shapes_Lisa-DiQuinz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6bWGRSKwlUWpP8xqRE7bRCBXA6fZ2Nyxgw_vRZTucx2s0qRAsaK28nDNWsXe87mJsUzYcdJEXnHHqgj_0wsz1jo3c_xV0R-keT6qosfACUoVpbR_ASBtS8-pgu8_FkLZvh5PcCp3Wo5VG/s320/9.Misty-Shapes_Lisa-DiQuinz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i> Misty Shapes</i>, burlap, dye, thread, glue, 45" diameter<br />
<br />
" I am inspired by literature"<br />
<br />
Lisa speaks of the clown as an underlying theme for much of her work. She says that clowns are about our own self consciousness. They are both foolish and wise, aggressive and passive.<br />
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Ruff, cotton, dirt, thread, 45" diameter<br />
<br />
How does the repeated use of the circle in Lisa di Quinzio's textile work connect to her concerns about immediacy, gesture and the dualities personified in clowns?<br />
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<i>Pussy Willow</i>, pussy willows, thread, pins 25" diameter<br />
<br />
Jung thought of the circle as an archetype of the psyche and the square as an archetype of the body. <br />
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<i>Pussy willow </i>detail<br />
<br />
Note that Lisa's circles are not set within squares but are pinned directly to the wall. The unprotected and solitary large circles exude a kind of strength.<br />
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<i>Dummies</i>, 67" h, cotton, foam and wire by Lisa di Quinzio<br />
<br />
aggression and passivity<i> </i><br />
wise and foolish<br />
white and black<br />
frayed<br />
smudged<br />
archetypal form<br />
dualities in life<br />
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<i>Spill</i>, jute with metal base, 1985 by Claire Zeisler, (1903 - 1981)<br />
<br />
Lisa di Quinzio sites Claire Ziesler (above) as an influence. More images of Zeisler's are <a href="http://thebesttimeoftheday.blogspot.ca/2011/01/claire-zeisler.html">here</a>. <br />
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All quotes and many of the images in this post are from the <a href="http://www.worldofthreadsfestival.com/artist_interviews/070_lisa_diquinzio_12.html">World of Threads interview</a> with the artist. Judy Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00619951031502775381noreply@blogger.com3