Friday, June 05, 2009
I've had a new project in my head for about a year now, and I think it is time to begin. I have a sense that the project will take me about two years to complete, depending upon the time I have to work. About every ten years, I have a significant, career changing art work that appears in my life. It's not a new series of work, but it is a large work that takes me to a new level. I document the process--the elements of the work that appear one by one-- in journals and it is fascinating for me to look back to see how the ideas present themselves, morph into a final shape and then take their place in the grand design. It is a scary and somewhat messy process, but fascinating all the same.
I've decided that I am going to document the process, this time, in a blog. If you have ever wondered "how did she do that?" or "how did she come up with that?" here is your chance to get inside the head of at least one artist, me. I would appreciate your responses and insights along the way and will give credit in the final work for idea-changing insights. I am inviting you to become a part of the creating process.
I expect the idea will change much before the final work is created, but here is what I know for now, along with its history... A year ago, I took an ecaustics workshop from R&F, and expected to make 10-12 pieces of art, the beginning body of work for a show. I had been searching for a way to use encaustics on my cast-paper forms. As it happened, the workshop was wonderful, but everything I tried on the paper looked horrible! I ended throwing most of it away. By the end of the third day (of four), I was totally discouraged and frustrated. I stopped using color and just applied medium (clear, molten beeswax with damar varnish) to the form and was surprised at how good it looked. I added a transfer of a black and white cabinet card and was blown away by its luminous quality of the image in wax. At that moment, I had a vision of a whole room full of these "characters" each with an accompaning story.
Here is the messy part of the process....while the inner visual of the completed project was and is, to this day, crystal clear, the details are very fuzzy. I know that these images will be part of a larger story (19th Century San Antonio society? a family? famous Texas homes with stories of their inhabitants? or something not yet revealed...). Germain to the project is an American book of poetry by Edgar Lee Masters, Spoon River Anthology, that I taught to my students many years ago. In this book, characters from the town of Spoon River, give bits and pieces of their lives in monologues. So, there will be a performance aspect to this show as well. Whether it will be a video installation along with the visual work or a live performance, I don't yet know. Whether the performer will be just me, taking on several characters or a group of performers, I don't yet know. That is how it is for me....a general sort of idea that begins to ruminate around in my head for a year or so...and then BAM! The process begins with a dream...with an insight...with a first step...something that lets me know, the train has left the station!
Last night I was given the first piece of this massive puzzle that will slowly come to clarity in the next months. I had a dream of these large columns hanging in the space demarking (?) something (areas of the city? classes? time?). They are each about 6 feet high and are banded with rusty strapping. In between the strapping are these wonderful, luminous, intricately-interesting paintings in encaustics. The colors I am seeing are rich and varied, with each column having its own unique color scheme. Since the characters are (for now in my mind) black and white, these giant spashes of color are so right.
With the first piece in place, I can now begin to work. I thought I was going to work on the characters first, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I don't know who these characters are or how they fit together. In playwriting, we call that a "spine" the through-line of the story. I don't know that yet, but what I do know are the large columns. So my work begins in finding or making these columns. Figuring out how to bind them with strapping and then learning how to rust the strapping...and THEN, I can begin the painting..and hope that I know, by then, the direction the painting should take.
As ever, I so enjoyed hearing of your creativity and I must say I am impressed. I will look forward to hearing how it evolves going forward. My best to you. Always, Judy
via michellebelto.com
all mine stay in my head and it is hard to get them out.
I'm planning on taking another class with you this fall. see you then.