Paperdolls

I am pleased to introduce the next four in my 'paper dolls' series.  I don't think that this will be their formal titles, but it is the working title I've been using since spending an evening cutting up a Holt magazine - once cut out of their original context, these figures make me think of the paper dolls that I used to play with - stiff figures and the corresponding clothing sets with the little folded tabs that were meant to hold the clothing in place.  Such an old-fashioned kind of toy, but still a very interesting aesthetic to play with now...

Paperdolls 7
5 x 7" mixed media

Paperdolls 6
5 x 7" mixed media

Paperdolls 5
5 x 7" mixed media

Paperdolls 4
5 x 7" mixed media

You'll see that I've included a few dashing young men in this set - somehow they are harder to impose a new setting on than the girls, though I am not sure why.  Perhaps the specificity of the suit?  As I work, I think about the iconic or archetypal figures of goddesses and heroines (and heroes) that figure so prominently in literature, art and psychology.  Perhaps that is how I'll begin to identify these figures - modern day mythic figures with their messages and morals a little harder to spot, but meaningful just the same.  Let's see what you think.

Art and Light

Paper Dolls III 2011
mixed media 6x8"

As the 'paper dolls' series continues, I am enjoying this new source of collage material.  There is a different feeling when working with these lovely fashionistas rather than the Renaissance beauties that I have used in the past, but at the same time, something also the same.  Having just had a tour of a lovely church from the early 1800's, I also find myself inspired more and more by the stained glass images of angles and saints, hand-painted and glowing with light.  Eventually I see a more lengthy series featuring the ladies of fashion, but inspired by the icons of mythology and religion - women who are saved or damned by fate, and all the stories they inspired along the way.  "Heroines and Harlots" perhaps?  But who is to say which is which...  I'll keep sharing as they progress.   

Lazy days of summer



Paperdolls I 2011
mixed media 6 x 8"

In the slow days of August, I find that I haven't done much making, and even less blogging.  Since I had previously made the commitment to do both on a regular basis, it seemed time to get working.  But, as always the questions of 'what to do' and 'where to start' slow things down.  Feeling uninspired usually leads me to exploring my various boxes and files of collected ephemera in search of something to spark a new idea, and this time, I came across pages torn from an old Holt Renfrew calalogue - waif-like models gazing off the page in bohemian garb.  Many of the images were quite lovely which led to an evening spent cutting out each figure and adding it to a growing collection.  Something funny happens to a figure cut out of its photographic context - each one seemed a bit more timeless and interesting as a 'paper doll' than as a person in some random street scene. They took on a similar character to those mythic figures in post-renaissance figurative paintings.  There was the spark!  Here are the first two in what may be a new series of small collages.  They are a bit fluffy at the moment, but perhaps will develop into something interesting.  Either way, I am happy because it is new work. 

And sometimes the hardest part about art-making is just getting started.

Paperdolls II 2011
mixed media 6 x 8"





A time and a place for everything...

Polarities: Lens 2009 (detail)

I've heard this said on many occasions, and the OCD part of my brain that requires order and neatness finds the thought of perfect timing and placement very satisfying. This also goes along with my artistic process to a large degree. As I've said before, there is a cyclical way of working - the gathering or scavenging phase, the thinking phase, the making phase, and then back around again. Often a single work goes through many cycles before it is finished (occasionally with an 'unmaking' phase thrown in). There are lots of things in my studio that I've had for years, but haven't used yet, and despite my need to purge unused things in the rest of my life, I continue to save. Eventually, I am certain, each thing will find its place.

Polarities: Lens 2009 (detail)

For instance, this odd round thing - maybe it's some kind of alarm bell, or a drain cover?  I really don't know, but I found it at Triple M several years ago and have been saving it.  It is rather heavy and awkward, and I kept moving it around, unsure about what I'd ever do with it.  Eventually, though it found a home in a two-sided piece that was part of a series exploring opposites and repetitions, organic/inorganic, macro/microcosm, left brain/ right brain kind of things.  It is beside another odd circular object - a light cover, I think... 

Polarities: Lens 2009
mixed media 21x11x3"

I am thinking about all of this right now because I've started collecting again.  I have a collection of more than 14 birds nests of varying sizes, that I hold on to for some future purpose (maybe an installation one day?) and I've just found a new one.  It is tiny and fragile, made of fine grass, smaller than my palm.  I think it was made by the same bird that made the fur-lined nest last year.  I have added to it a blue robin's egg that is almost whole, save for one tiny hole in one end.  Perhaps they'll become a part of my next new work?  I don't know yet, but it is still important to keep them, for that perfect time and place.

Exhibition Photos!

Sanctuary: Resonance (detail)

I have just spent some time going through photos of the last exhibition, courtesy of Kyle McKeown, and am please to see that all of the new work looks better than my last memory of it.  It is always a funny thing to look back at recent creations - sometimes I am pleased and other times I am not.  I guess that goes with the territory of being an artist - self doubt and self-criticism.  Let's just call it reflective practice and be done.  Here are a few of my favourite photos:

Microcosm: Nest 2011
mixed media 7 x 12 x 5.5"

Microcosm: Aquas 2011
mixed media 7 x 11.5 x 7"

It is the smallest details that are so important in the work I am doing right now - in the Microcosm series, I am trying to create miniature worlds or specimens under glass - and I love the way the photos capture them.  The first piece (Nest) contains the smallest birds nest I have seen.  Amazingly, it was carefully lined with soft white fur from one of my dogs.  He had a haircut a few days before I found it, and I had left the white fur on the grass in the yard.  It was so precious and delicate, and I've been saving it for two years waiting for the right place to use it.

In these two, I like the photos more than the actual pieces. As with many works in the past, these are currently 'in process' and will continue to develop for a while. My task now is to keep up the initial creative impulse, and develop the ideas that have started. I'll share more images as that happens!

Under Glass: Rose 2011
mixed media 13.5 x 13.5 x 4"

Under Glass: Stone 2011
mixed media 13.5 x 13.5 x 4"

Inspiration



Jane Adeney
A Small Garden

I am excited to share the work and new website of one of my favourite artists: Jane Adeney.  I met Jane through her work early in my career as an artist and was instantly inspired and in awe.  Later, I was fortunate enough to get to know her better and have seen her fascinating work develop over the last 10 years.  There is a resonance that is shared with many artists who work with found objects that I first felt in seeing Jane's boxes, but her work is so mush more than just that.  Dark and mysterious with secrets hidden deep inside each creation, these sculptures whisper of desires and impulses that are felt but rarely vocalized.  They appeal on a visceral level, and are beautiful to behold.  This particular piece is one of the most treasured items in my own art collection, and I enjoy it everyday.  Jane's website is a treat, and offers a great look at some of her wonderful creations.  Please take a look!

The Trauma of Sales

Fibonacci's Dream, 2004
collage with gold leaf, 5x7"

The title of this post likely sounds strange to some - after all why bother having exhibitions in not to share your work with others and hopefully make some sales?  In commercial galleries, this is the natural progression, if you are fortunate enough to find another person who thinks what you do is pretty good.  This is something to look forward to.


But, what happens when you sell something?  That means that it is gone, and that you might not see it again.  What if it is the best thing you'll ever do?  What if you will never have that moment of inspiration or luck that led to its creation again?  And a stranger is the one who gets to see it!  As I said, it sounds pretty silly, but these are all the kinds of feelings that happen...

Early in my career, I had created a new body of work - mostly collages, but a few box-works as well.  I exhibited them, and admittedly they were very well priced - I was just staring out, after all.  And I was lucky enough to find a few people who thought they were pretty good.  And then there were a few more... and a few more.  It became so stressful, I remember having a bit of a panic - what if I can't remember how to do this again?  There were a few tears, and some excitement.  Artists are a bit insane sometimes.  I wonder if other people feel like this or is it just me?

The Golden Wheel, 2004
collage with gold leaf, 5x7"

That was a great show.  There have been other shows since then - fortunately I still remember how to do it (make work).  I've never been able to reproduce this kind of clear-out show (which I am secretly both sad and pretty happy about).  I must thank the couple of folks who thought that my most recent work was okay - I hope that the work will make you happy, and only feel small pangs of stress.. 

Plus, I've learned to take better photos. 

Scavenging

Now that the sunshine and warm weather have arrived (for good I hope), it is time for the annual spring quest for new materials for art-making.  As I seek some balance in the life/work/artist existence, I have set the rather lofty goal of creating two to three new things each month.  For the recent exhibition, I used all of my best 'things' and am now looking for some new inspiration.  This can only mean one thing, a trip to Triple M Demolition in Canfield, ON.  For those of you who know it or have visited with me, you will remember what a treasure trove it is.  Usually, I hunt for 'things that are circles' - wooden circles, metal circles, plastic circles...  I must say that the staff there always sort through my collection of purchases without any of the snarkiness that one might expect of 'old school hardware store men' faced with a girl who doesn't look like she knows what she's doing.  Always a pleasure to shop, and such an exciting scavenger hunt.

This time, in addition to 'things that are circles' I will be looking for industrial light bulb covers and interesting gears to mount them on.  Who knows what I'll actually find.

If you ever go there, you'll know you are in the right place if you see the giant McDonald's sign resting among the patio stones.  They even have the metal grates that go around trees in sidewalks and malls (BIG circles - one day I'll find a reason to buy one of those!).

What's next?

Chasing Windmills, 2010
collage, 7x11"

After a flurry of art-making and angst, my most recent show is now finished.  There is always a funny mix of feelings to sort through, afterwards.  First, I am happy to be working again after a bit of a hiatus - the intense and creative 'working phase' that immediately preceeds a deadline so often results in exciting new things, and forces decisions that have been floating about for quite a while.  It is great, and I am a person who thrives on the pressure of a looming due date.  The flip-side of this is that in the midst of this intensity there is no time or energy to do anything else, so now I have to catch up with the rest of my life.  Also, in this flurry of stress, there is little time for reflection and analysis - time to think about what I am doing and why.

That is where I am now.  It is time to look carefully at the results of an exhibition, decide what worked well, what could be improved and most importantly, what to do next.  This part hurts a little.  The inner critic is ready to burst forth with the unsure questioner in tow.  Am I really happy with the results?  Were other people happy?  In the end, I think I'll decide 'yes', but it may take a bit to get there.   Artists are tricky that way.  My real task now is to accomplish some kind of work/ artist/ life balance.  I wonder if such a thing really exisits...

I am waiting for the professional photos of the new work to come back (a special thanks to my new photographer Kyle McKeown!) and will have more images to share soon.  Then it will be time to review and refresh, and figure out what to do now.

In the meantime, I'll be cleaning up.

Small Wonders

Microcosom: Ventus (detail), 2011
mixed media, 7" x12.5" x 7"

Continuing an earlier thought, I want to think more about things.  With the new work all safely installed at the gallery, it is time to reflect about the new work.  What are these things that I create?  How and why do I place them together?  These are the two most common questions, along with wondering where I find these things.  They are precious little treasures that I have discovered along my daily travels, and the reasons that I save them are different each time - sometimes the colour or shape appeals to me, other times the associated meaning is intriguing, and other times it is the patina of age, or the appearance of use, having been well-used or even worn out that catches my eye.

In the Microcosm series, I have mixed together a number of random elements - branches, bones, feathers, rusty gears and bits of wood; they have been placed inside sealed glass vessels, protecting and preserving them.  The vessels are functional as well as a design element, and come from a functional past..

The titles reference the ancient elements, suggesting an embedded connection to the world, as well as a reverence for the small wonders of nature.

New Work

Temple 2010
collage, 7 x 11"

What makes an object special?

As an artist working with found objects, I have been thinking about this question.  For some, objects hold connections to people, places or events of the past, keeping those treasured memories alive.  For others, certain objects are powerful talismans of reverence or protection.  And for others still, objects hold intrinsic significance because of their value, their aesthetics or their uniqueness.

My new work takes the form of small assemblages carefully contained under glass, reminiscent of scientific specimens under bell jars from the past, or secured in boxes with windows to reveal their contents.  Combinations of natural objects - wood, bone, feathers, insects, discarded metal machine parts, gold leaf and beads may cause the viewer to wonder what the compositions represent.  Interpretation is personal, and may lead in a variety of directions.  If you are curious, come to transit gallery this month and take a look!

Small Treasures

Under Glass I: Flight of Fancy, 2011
mixed media, 7x12x7"

After a flurry of work over the last two months, I will be opening a new exhibition at transit gallery in Hamilton on March 4th.  As in past works, I have focused on found objects - the small treasures that I've discovered in the flea markets, forgotten places and junk yards I've visited.  My work considers the idea of significance - what becomes a precious treasure and what gets left behind.  This can happen in many different ways.  Scientific specimens may be preserved in hermetically sealed containers or sterile environments; sacred relics are saved in special shrines, or secreted away for private enjoyment.  My work takes everyday objects and presents them as treasures.  When I found them, they caught my eye, whispering their stories or sparkling in suggestion of hidden glory.

Really, I am like a magpie - collecting shiny things with little attention to the order or sense of my collections...

Drop by the gallery and see what I've been up to!

Reverence

Sanctuary: Renewal, 2007
mixed media, 22x64x14"

In my work I've been thinking a lot about things that are revered - what do we choose to honour and why, and how do certain symbols or objects come to have such significance.  In a more recent body of work, I used medieval altarpieces as a starting point, but combined that with my own interest in the natural world and a more holistic and environmental sense of connectedness.  When presented in a certain way, every day object and discarded items can take on an aura of importance and meaning.  In Jungian philosophy this can be referred to as an 'archetype', while in other, older writing, objects became symbols for ideas and processes in a language that was really only meaningful to the initiated.  This is where the title, 'Alchemy & ordinary things' comes from.  While as a scientific possibility, alchemy is of course rather foolish, when re-contextualized as a philosophy of life and death and reproduction it becomes more interesting.

Time to Gather Stones, 2007
mixed media, 12x18x3"

 

Chalice, 2007

mixed media 16x26x6"

 

Remembering, 2007
mixed media, 5x9x1"



Lost and Found



Lost and Found, transit gallery 2006
installation view



My working process goes through different phases.  There is the 'making phase' at the end, which is the most intense, but before any of that can happen, there is the essential 'collecting' phase.  I used to worry that I'd run out of 'stuff' and then where would I be?  The treasures that I have been saving for many years went in to the work, and it was terrifying to think of losing them.  But then I realized that there were always more things to be found.

Lost and Found was an exhibition that celebrated the oddities and random rusty bits that I have gathered.  Working on a small scale, about 5x7", each box focused on a few specially selected items, turning rusty bits of metal, scraps of bone, game pieces and more into carefully-crafted objects.  It was a lot of fun, and went on to inform my approach to design in a lot of other works.



Lost & Found: Examined, 2006
mixed media, 5x7x3"

Lost & Found: Growth, 2006
mixed media, 5x7x3"

Lost & Found: Womb, 2006
mixed media, 5x7x3"

Lost & Found: Substructure, 2006

mixed media, 5x7x3"



In the box.. out of the box

Memento Mori I, 2005
mixed media, 12x17x3"

Cernunnos, 2005
mixed media, 12x17x3"

 As an artist who works with found objects, there is always a question about the best way to present them.  Following in the legacy of artists like Joseph Cornell, I have always found boxes - 'cabinets of curiosities' to be especially evocative.  What is it that the items have in common?  What does it all mean?  Boxes can become carefully composed images, or miniature universes.

 

Darkest Night, 2005
mixed media, 8x60x8"



I am often intrigued by the connections that can be made between seemingly unrelated objects once they are placed together.  Hidden stories and ideas emerge as the work is created, and at every exhibition I find that I learn something new as people share their ideas or little known facts with me.  I learned about the link between sea horses and the hippocampus in the brain at one show, and about the difference between monarch and regent butterflies at another!

In some work, I have tried to work on a larger scale, and also to break away from the 'box'.  This can be an exciting but daunting approach, and I am happy with some of the results.  This piece is part of a series of six works that were created for an exhibition at transit gallery in Hamilton.  They were hung about eight inches off the floor, so they were the same height as the average person.  I thought about the references to the body when I was working, and this influenced the overall composition. 

Collage!

Babel, 2002
mixed media 5x7"

I can't go further without showing you my other 'non-painting' discovery - collage!  Here I learned about gold leaf, shellac, ripping, tearing and layering.  Plus more exciting ways to use the random collected bits that are now stored in carefully ordered files - 'art history', 'astronomy', 'architecture', 'anatomy', 'mechanical & mathematics drawings', 'postage', 'ephemera' and so on...

There are hidden references and hints at stories in each, and other people always have interesting ideas about what each one is all about.  At first I feared that I would run out of 'stuff' and would have to find a new way to work, but so far that hasn't happened - it is quite the opposite, in fact.  Mixed media art-making simply fuels the need to collect.  There is definitely a bit of the magpie in me - drawn to shiny things...

The Second Coming, 2003
mixed media 5x7"

Requiem 2004
mixed media 5x7"

Vesica Piscis 2004
mixed media 6x7"

Exile on James Street



Reliquaries, 1999 14x60x6"

Eridanus I & II, 1998  36x36"

installation view at Exile on James St.

Here are a few more images of old work.  I was invited to participate in an exciting show in Hamilton called 'Exile on James St.' which took place in the gutted bank on top of Jackson Square at King and James.  It is still one of my favourite alternative exhibition spaces.  The work included in the show was outstanding and I was honoured to be included.  I'll always remember Simon Frank's enormous tree of sawdust on the floor and my first glimpse of Jane Adeney's evocative clay boxes full of mysterious items...



Prima Materia II, 2004
mixed media  10x16x3"



Art-boxes became a whole new way of working, and finally my collections of oddities made sense.  I learned about the 'wunderkammer' and cabinets of curiosities that were the first museums.  I was hooked!

Romantic ideas about the order of the universe, micro/macro-cosm relationships and alchemy have always been very interesting, despite their scientific inaccuracies.  

Looking back



Topography II, c. 1998,

mixed media 24x24"



Before I can talk about what I am doing right now, I feel like I should go backwards a bit.  Where did all of this start?  In university I was a confirmed painter - when you are an artist, that's what you do, or so I thought.  My paintings were alright, but I kept trying to add things to them... bits of text or drawings, found bits of ephemera.  Later, the paint got mixed with wax, and then sand, and I was creating textured 'paintings' that weighed in excess of twenty pounds.  Things became more satisfying at this point, but the added 'stuff' still didn't work as cohesively as I wanted.

By this time I had begun to collect things.  I discovered the work of Joseph Cornell.  I started to think about the objects themselves, and stopped worrying about being a 'painter'.  Things became more interesting.