Random thoughts and babblings...

It's nearly April.  Hard to believe.  I've been really quiet on this blog, but that doesn't mean I haven't been working.  In fact, I have.  I've been working in my sketchbook and trying to decide in which direction I want to take my work.  I had a tutorial last night which I found to be very helpful.  The session opened my eyes to a new way of looking at my work.  Maybe I'm trying to say too much in one piece.  I think I need to let some of it just speak for itself in a quiet, understated way.  And perhaps creating a conversation between two ideas.  For example: I've been playing around with images of pin-up girls from the 40s; I want to juxtapose that imagary with symbols of war - grenades, look-out towers, missles. So perhaps the pin-up girls will serve as a sort of wall paper...something that looks sexy and organic but that doesn't reveal straight away the true nature of what they are.  And then maybe have a screenprint of a grenade next to it.  Everything repeated...like Warhol did in a lot of his work.  I want it to be playful and sexy.  But with a sinister undertone. 

The most important thing I took away from the tutorial is to be careful that the imagery doesn't cancel each other out - to play one image against the other for a greater impact.  Don't beat it over the viewer's heads...allow the images to speak for themselves and create their own impact.  I should act as a director in a way - determining the order of placement and establishing a hierarchy. 

Finally...It's All Coming Together Now....

God it's been ages since my last post.  I'm so good at making declarations and then immediately falling short (like off a cliff sort of falling short) of my goal...before I even begin!  So, my apologies.  How about this - I'll stop making declarations (publicly, anyway) of how often I'll be blogging and save everyone the groan factor.



I'm happy to report that I'm back in England after having served time tediously in the States waiting nervously for all of my paperwork to go through.  See, that's the thing about being refused entry into a country - everything after that makes you nervous.  I kind of don't ever want to leave now just so I don't have to face the panic of crossing passport control.  I'm feeling a bit panic-y now just thinking about it.  So anyway, visa was approved and I arrived in England exactly one month ago, nearly to the hour.  And then it was the holidays, so that was a bit chaotic.  Plus there's just all that goes along with getting reacclamated to a new place.  I mean it's not exactly new, but you know what I mean.  And while the transition is much better than it was the last time I landed on this fair island, it still proves to be challenging.  Thankfully, I feel like I've finally found my artistic groove.  Finally figured out what I want to say.  And you know what?  It feels great.  Awesome, really. 

As you know, I've been doing some research on the lives of women during the 40s through 60s.  And as such was looking into certain historical events that were going on during that time - something I've been interested in since I was a kid of about 13, really.  Maybe even earlier - like 11 when I first heard Bob Dylan.  Anyway, that's neither here nor there.  Point is, I've been doing a lot of research but have been feeling really stuck on how to tie all of these ideas and imagery together.  And then last week something amazing happened.  Dave went to work and I was left in the house on my own.  My first time as a real housewife.  So I cleaned.  Did the dishes.  Did some laundry.  Walked the dog.  Made a meal.  And then it hit me that I finally had a studio to work from.  And I could work from it knowing that I'd be here awhile.  There's something quite freeing about knowing you'll be in one place for a bit.  Psychologically, I think I was stuck because life around me was temporary.  And after spending 30-odd years on this planet, I've finally come to realize that I thrive best when conditions are right and that involves having a comfortable space to work in.  Duh, right?  And after having spent three months at my parent's house and having little space of my own, coming back to England and having not only a whole house, but a studio (as modest as it is), felt suddenly like a huge gain that I'd not felt in the same way before.   I suppose this was because I'd gone from my house in Peoria which, while small by American standards, is fairly massive in English terms.  And I had the great pleasure of working in a pretty large basement.  Sorry, I'm rambling.  Again.  So I'll get to the point: I realized that I had a studio to work in.  For the first time in my life I felt like all of the small pieces that makes up the cogs in the wheel of life were aligned perfectly to provide me the security and courage to transcend from art as a side job to my main job.  And I started going through all of the imagery and information I've collected over the past several months and, almost magically, it all just started coming together.  So easily.  I realized what I want to say!  

My vision is to create a series of work that revolves the housewife - images of her in action (doing the dishes, laundry, etc.) as a bold silhouette against a backdrop of significant historical events such as unequal pay and the Cold War.  Juxtaposing advertisement slogans (mostly for laundry detergent) with quotes I've extracted from a Time Magazine article first published in June 1960 titled "The Suburban Housewife", offers a bit of humor to the series by suggesting that these women were only effective as housewives - that the only time in which they are in full control is when they are keeping house.  It is in that environment in which the housewife reigns supreme - she knows the best way to remove a stain, how to correctly iron her husband's work shirts and how to properly make a bed.  Very poignant, in my opinion, in a time when women were still considered second class (although by the 60s this was starting to change in a real and more bold way than ever before) and who, if they chose to enter the workplace, earned just a fraction of what men did.  While our society has really come quite a way since then, I think it's important to keep in tune with the struggles women endured to be where we are today (even if we still don't earn the equivalent of men) so as to appreciate success.  I think there's also a fascination with this time period - vintage is in style.  How better to keep these struggles fresh in the mind of women - especially young women - than to put it into art that is celebrating the era that is now so chic to adore? 

 NOTE: the images shown in this blog are digital thumbnail sketches I'm using as mock-ups for final painted and silk-screened versions. 

The Joy of Sketching

This isn't meant to be a long post, I just wanted to share some of what I've been working on in my sketchbook recently.  I've really been struggling with how I'm going to bring all of these components and ideas together into one cohesive projects.  After sketching for the greater part of a day, I decided to take a break and look at the work of some other artists so I watched some episodes of Art 21 and watched a documentary on William Kentridge.  I've been fascinated by his work for quite some time and was really inspired by something he said.  I'm going to paraphrase, but it was something to the effect of allowing ones self the freedom to do what they like as an artist instead of trying too hard to dissect it, because often when you do something out of simple enjoyment, the end result is so much better than something that's been toiled over, worked and re-worked.  And I think that's where I have to start.  So, without further ado, my sketches (there's one I really wanted to include, but I don't have the image available right now, but thought I did...so check back for an update!):

Timeline Research. Wedding. Terrifying Facts.

TIMELINE RESEARCH.
When I last left off, I vowed to do a better job at keeping my blog a bit more current.  Well, I might not have been very prompt in the immediate follow-through, but I did spend a bit of time doing some research for my upcoming project that looks at the role women played in society from the 30s through the 60s.  In order to get a better grasp on an era which I did not personally witness, I thought it would be helfpul to look into major events and "advancements" in technology starting with the year of 1929 which is, of course, the year the American stock market crashed.    To understand the role women have played in society, it is important to take a look at these events to determine in which ways they are linked.  If it weren't for WWII, for example, the development of suburban communities as we know them may not have happened - at least not as quickly.  And without suburbia we wouldn't have the suburban housewife.  Of course it's possible history would have unfolded just as it did regardless of war or the stock market crash, but I think it's fair to say these events certainly sped up the process. 

Anyhow, I wanted to share some of my findings.  I looked at events that took place each decade starting with 1929, so there are admittedly a lot of gaps to fill.  Still, it's an interesting to look at major events that happened only 80 years ago that have had a direct impact on our lives today and forever changed life, directly influencing how we live today. 

1929

MoMA opens in NYC

BBC broadcasted its first TV transmission

Longest bridge in the world,  San Francisco Bay Toll Bridge, opens

Women are announced to be persons by Privy Council in Britain

1939

Regular TV broadcasts begin

Assassination attempt on Hitler fails by 8 minutes

LaGuardia Airport opens in NY

PamAm begins passenger and airmail service

1949

Truman unveils the Fair Deal Program

First monkey in space

1959

Guggenheim in NY completed

Barbie is launched

US unemployment reaches 1.4 million 

WEDDING.



Left: Dave, Romayne & I   Middle: Ro the Rev   Right: Embrace on the beach

 Now to explain my absence from blogging.  I got married!  We all know what excuses are like, but I think this is a pretty good one.  At 2pm on the 23rd of October, I got married to David Singleton (yay!) in a very intimate setting at the cottages at Indian River Inlet Marina, Delaware.  It was the most gorgeous day and it was such a wonderful blessing to be surrounded by such great friends and family.  The service was led by my family pastor, Michaele Russell, and a long-time friend of both mine and Dave's, Romayne Putna.  This was the first ceremony she's ever conducted, but you would have thought she was an old pro!  She did such an amazing job - words can't even begin to describe it.  Dave's mum, dad, brother and sister all made the trip from England to share the day with us.  And my family was all there, even my dad from Alaska!  The day was filled with joy and love.  Sadly, Dave had to go back to England on Sunday and I won't be able to join him without a visa, which is currently being processed.  We're very hopeful it will be granted, but we won't know anything for at least a couple of weeks.  I'm anxiously looking forward to going back to England so my husband and I can settle into married life.  Keep your fingers crossed!

TERRIFYING FACTS.

The fact that I can't join Dave in England right now leaves me feeling a bit hollow and lost.  Thankfully, I have my sketchbook and laptop, so I can focus on my work.  I've decided to fully immerse myself into it during this tough time.  Idle hands and all that.  Of course not every minute is filled with sketching, researching or blogging (obviously!) and last night I wanted to watch something, but I wasn't sure what.  So I pulled up Hulu and had a browse at their selection of movies.  I was pleased to find a documentary called The Future of Food.  It's so eye-opening!  I had recently watched a more recent documentary about our food industry called Food, Inc., which is also quite moving so this wasn't new news to me, but I found the Future of Food to be a bit more comprehensive in outlining the details of the history of Genetic Engineering, corporate power and its consequent impact on legislation.  I thought I'd share some of the facts revealed through this documentary.

Prior to the 30s, nature couldn't be patented.  This all changed when a man who'd discovered oil-eating microbes took his patent case to the Supreme Court.  His patent was accepted by 1 vote.  This changed everything.  This paved the way for the company Monsanto - creator of the weed-killing product Round-Up - to place a patent on their seeds which have been modified to carry the herbicidal properties of their weed-killing product.  As such, Monsanto has become an amazingly powerful entity who have a strongarm on farmers and whose product has essentially taken over our fields, consequently making it into our diet because, as you know, most of the food products we eat are made with high fructose corn syrup which comes from....you guessed it...genetically modified corn.  As a result of these incredible seeds, super weeds have evolved and crops now require an herbicide to combat this nuicance.  The herbicide used on these super weeds is similar to Agent Orange, which is known to cause birth defects.

 
There's so much I can rant about, but that's not the reason for bringing up these facts.  It's more to illustrate the major shift in farming.  It's also to show how all things are connected either directly or indirectly and although I'm not a historian or scientist, it seems to me there's a connection between the severe droughts affecting American in the 30s, which reached its peak in the late 50s, and this new technology.  And this technology brought more food, which helped stabilize (in some ways) the economy.  This in combination with WWII created an economic boom in the 50s and with so many of our men returning from the War, the creation of suburban communities.  See, it all comes full circle.  My challenge now is to find a way to play on both of these themes in my artwork.  I've defintely got my work cut out for me. 

An Update and Explanation for my Blogging Absence

Well, it's been a long couple of months.  My last post was way back in July.  It's now October.  What happened?  Well, it's a bit of an epic story...are you ready?



Kayaking along the archipalego of southwest Sweden



In early August Dave and I headed to Sweden for a week-long holiday of sea kayaking and wild camping with some of our greatest friends.  It was an amazing trip.  We leisurely meandered along the many islands of various sizes and geoligical character, stopping here and there to sun ourselves on rocks and beaches.  It was beautiful.  The highlight was getting engaged on the first night of the trip; Dave and I were sitting on top of the island we'd set up camp and looking out at the beautiful sea water, with the steeple of the church in Lyseskil proudly standing in the distance, when Dave asked if I'd marry him.  With tears in my eyes and a grin from ear to ear I said, "of course!"  We got lucky in so many ways: spending time with friends, great weather.  Our luck was challenged on the way home.  When we arrived to London's Stansted Airport, I ended up getting detained for six hours and questioned by the immigration officials.  Turns out that volunteering without a visa is a breach of immigration law.  Oopsie!  I seriously had no idea.  It was so scary and harrowing.  Because the officials didn't trust that I wouldn't engage in working if allowed to enter England, I was sent back to Sweden.  Thank god for the kindness of strangers.  It ended up being a lovely second vacation, but of course the seriousness of the situation kept me pretty grounded and fairly somber.  Luckily, Dave was able to make a trip to see me and to bring me fresh clothes.  And after that I flew back to the States.  And I've been here every since.

Current works from my sketchbook

As you might imagine, I've been a bit sidetracked.  Dave and I really hate being apart and have decided to get married sooner than later and we'll be having our wedding on the beach in less than 10 days.  In the meantime, we've been working with a lawyer to complete my visa application for settlement in the UK.  And it's looking pretty positive, but we won't hear the results for six weeks or more...it ain't easy, as they say.  And while I've tried to be somewhat active with keeping my sketchbook updated, it's very slow.  I can't seem to focus for very long.  I guess that's what happens when faced with such adversity.  But never one to be kept down, I had an epiphany this morning that I need to be more active.  I might not have a studio to work in, but I've got a sketchbook, a pencil and some gouache paints and that's enough, my friend, to at least get some ideas down.  So, I'll be working on some new stuff and will do my best to post regular updates.  And in that spirit, I'm posting some of my sketches.  Feels good to get back to work.

Bittersweet.

I love chocolate.  In particular I love dark chocolate.  There's something wonderful about the warm, sweet taste wrapped up with in a slightly bitter edge.  Kind of like today.  On the plus side I was able to get a couple of my silkscreening screens exposed so I can start working on a new body of work.  On the down side, I'm not able to start printing.  Why?  Because it seems that finding a screenprinting squeegee is not quite as easy as an endeavor as one might expect.  I went into the only arts supply store that I can get to on foot, thinking "yea, they'll probably have it."  No, they don't.  They have a kit I could buy for over 70 pounds which includes way more than I need.  Which is awesome.  But I refuse to spend 70 pounds just to get a squeegee out of the deal.  So I asked the girl at the counter if they carried any separately.  And as I figured, they don't.  So I asked if they could order one for me.  Of course they can't (what is it about the sheer lack of customer service in Britain?  In America, they'd be falling over your feet to make parting with your money easy!).  So, I have to either make my own or buy one online.  And buying online will probably be the way to go.  My only issues with that are: 1) I don't want to wait and 2) it's not usually very straightforward for me to buy things online since my address is not an English one and it's a huge bother getting over the security hurdles (mind you, I'm glad they have such measures in place for my own protection but come on!  Give me a break!).

I'm trying to focus on the sweet.  I have screens.  And ink.  (Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink).  

Thoughts on David Nash

The Yorkshire Sculpture Park is located in a wonderfully bucolic setting on the outskirts of Wakefield. The design of the Park dates back 200 years - it is beautiful and vast. I visited the Park a couple of weeks ago with the Lancashire Artists' Network to see the David Nash exhibition, which is on display through February 2011. Before the visit, I wasn't greatly familiar with Nash's work. Luckily for me, the exhibition is stuffed to the gills with his work and provided me with a robust overview of his repetoire. I immediately fell in love with the works and I had to ask myself why. Several weeks ago I had posted two blogs about Picasso and Yves Klein after seeing their work during my visit to the Tate Liverpool. I have a great deal of respect and appreciation for both artists, yet my response was critical and while I was standing in front of David Nash's piece titled "Charred Cross Egg," I had to ask myself why I was so enamoured with this piece, yet critical of the work of two artists I admire.
Nash works predominantly with wood, both living and dead. Interested in maintaining the integrity of the material, he opts to use natural methods when adding color to dead wood or shaping live wood. Organic and ominous, his forms immediately demand your attention. I think it would be difficult for anyone to face a David Nash sculpture and simply turn away; it requires contemplation. It invades your space in a way that's both confrontational and very subtle. It reminded me of Richard Serra's work in the way you are required to interact with it. And maybe that's part of why I responded to it in the way I did; his sculptures are inviting. It was almost like being introduced to a someone - a stranger who is somehow familiar - and having them invite you in to their house to have a conversation. I had a difficult time walking away.

I pondered the familiarity of Nash's work - intriguing given this was my first time experiencing it. I realized it was because his work brought to mind that of other artists I like; his designs were often reminiscent to that of Isamu Noguchi and Henry Moore; his choice to work with and manipulate natural materials reminded me of Andy Goldsworthy. There was a section of the exhibition that focused on works he completed as a response to the tragedy of 9-11. These works were grim - bold marks in black and gray spoke to the heaviness of the event, yet the grace of the line succeeded in capturing the ironic beauty present in the face of such horrific destruction (as a side note, I recall watching a program several years after the event that talked about that very issue; during the program a woman recounted a story of how she and her 9 year old son were watching the events unfold on t.v.; her son remarked on the beauty of the clouds rising from the towers - he couldn't look away.). The confidence of Nash's linework made me think of the architect portrayed in Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and the same confidence with which he laid down his marks.
Even after writing all of these contemplations, I still don't know if I could definitively pinpoint what it is about David Nash's work that I respond so positively to. I would love to have something succinct to wrap it up, but I think the artist does it best. Here's a quote from the exhibition I jotted down in my sketchbook.

"I learned with these constructions about something developing its own logic that the viewer can enter into. It could have been an integrity and truth that one could feel. And also how a worked object developed its own scale - how it could go beyond the material, go beyond the colour, to have a sense of its own scale which the beholder entered into, which is actually different from its physical scale." (David Nash on his piece from 1967 titled "Archway")