V9 Exhibition: International House, Davis

Viewpoints 9 is proud to announce a special exhibition of contemporary fiber art selected from each of our original 2012 and 2013 challenges. The exhibit will be held at the International House in Davis, California, April 9 - May 6, 2015.  Viewpoints 9 members, Diane Wright and Martha Wolfe, invite you to join them for the Opening Reception on April 10, 2015 from 6 - 8PM.

Purple Urchin

Echinoderms R Us

For this challenge, I reverted to one of my favorite phylums- the echinoderms.

Something about the radial symmetry attracts me, or maybe it's the abundance of circular patterns :)

Above is a scientific drawing of a sea urchin test- which is the shell that remains after the spines fall off and the animal inside decays.

I showed a modicum of self restraint and just gave this one a bit of purple around the edges.

Detail of the mouth (?)  He was made from silk and Evolon, heat cut.  He was fun as always!

Storm at Sea

Storm at Sea

The vast and increasing differences in our world climates gave me the idea for this work.

Some areas are experiencing torrential rains this summer, while we here in the southwest are counting every drop.

A family who is watching the river, worried about flooding would feel dread at word of an approaching storm, while our thirsty land would welcome it.

Many human lives have been lost due to extreme weather, but without it, very little life at all could exist.

This is made from quilted hand dyed silk mounted on plexiglas.  Mixed media materials were heat distressed, layered and painted for the clouds.  There is a small led light in the back, below the horizon, to illuminate the sky.

I am the Hag

In 1976, fresh out of school, I founded a manufacturing company.

It (still) is in an industrial area of Van Nuys, Ca.  On the way to the plant, about 6 in the morning, I'd pass Beeps, a fast food place geared towards us workers.  The Budweiser plant was down the street, where my brother in law worked the swing shift for 25 years, as well as many other businesses that ran around the clock.  One local bar had a big sign out front that said, Open at 6am!  We install and remove hangovers!

Beep's of course was open 24 hours, and I'd frequently stop by for a cup of coffee on the way in to the factory, as the food truck didn't come until 8:30.  The early shift was run by the ugliest woman I'd ever seen- she looked just like a cartoon hag, warts and all.  However, her heart was exactly the opposite.

She glowed from within, taking such a delight in the world around her that it was truly uplifting to exchange just a few words with her.  I never learned her name, or even saw her again after I broke down and got a coffeemaker at work, but I still remember her fondly after more than 30 years.

As I get older, and continue to morph into an ancient lumpen piece of flesh, I hope that strangers will be able to look past that and take the time to get to know the real me.

I'm in the middle of a very busy work related travel summer, so will probably be late with executing the challenge piece, but will probably do something on the subject of weather.  If someone in Seattle, for instance, hears of impending rain, the news might be greeted with an eye roll and resignation.

However, here, in the dry southwest, we treasure it.

stay tuned :)

Ancient Tradition, Natural Inspiration

Several things influenced my choices for Misik's challenge to recreate traditions in our work.

One was April, which is National Poetry Month.  When I taught school, we always did a project combining visual art with poetry, which compliment each other in a beautiful way.

Another was my place of birth, Japan, which has long revered the poetic form of haiku, very often inspired by the seasons and the natural world.

 I chose to celebrate these tiny poppies, which come back year after year in the early spring.  Here in New Mexico the weather changes radically from one day to the next, with freezing winds and unpredictable storms being the norm.
There is a patch of sidewalk I pass every day while walking the dogs where the flowers sprout anew every year between the cracks.  Every year, I collect a seed pod or two and scatter the seeds in my actual garden, where they never grow.  It seems they need adversity to thrive, which heartens me as I face setbacks in my own life.

 The title of this work is Haiku- a little poem I wrote about these flowers:

Shaped by bitter wind,

They bow but will never break

Returning always.

The background is a painting on silk accentuated with paint sticks.

The flowers themselves are made from humble dryer sheets, which, with their used, transparent quality, I felt were a good medium for the delicate, yet amazingly tough little poppies.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

The first thing that leapt to my mind when reading about Misik's challenge to bring new life to old tradition was Celtic imagery.  Mom's a McGill, jokingly called a lace curtain Irish by my dad for many years.  Well, it looks like Kate was ahead of me, and will do her usual superb interpretation of that idea.

My grandmother, on the other hand, was the daughter of a Norwegian sea captain.

The simple geometry of nordic design is extremely appealing, however, I've borrowed from in for many years already, particularly in my knitting-

 

So, instead, I'm *again* returning to tradition from the country of my birth, Japan.

Both my parents were entranced by the history and culture of Japan- here's my mom, pregnant with me, and one of her attempts at ikebana-

This is literally the first view of the outside world that I had in my life, the world through our living room window-

A quilt from this idea already exists, it's called Momoko, after my birth name.  Such a fat, pink fuzzy baby had never before been seen, and mom put me in the window for all the curious neighbors to see, who began calling me little peach - momoko in Japanese.

The piece is of Kanaka-san, my mother's helper, sitting contemplatively by their window.

I used raw silk that mom had acquired there as the "wallpaper", stenciled with peaches, and an actual overdyed cotton hakata for her robe.

I think I'll borrow another Japanese tradition for this challenge- it's spring, with all the tumultuous weather typical of the high desert- it brings to mind haiku.

The tiny green buds of  the trees are especially inspiring against the stormy gray sky- perhaps I can start there.  What do you think?

Extra-ordinary, for sure!

Extra-ordinary, for sure!

This was challenging indeed for me due to the outside-of- your- country requirement.
Sadly, summers in Europe, helicoptering over Australia and batik lessons in Bali have not been a part of my life.
However, I did spend 20 years in Southern California and became imbued with the culture of Mexico.  I chose as my subject a simple flower, the marigold, which has a special meaning as a symbol of the dead.

Every year on November first and second, the Aztecs relive a little of their past with the Dia De los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. Huge altars are set up with food and drinks are given to the deceased members of the household. No altar is ever complete without the gathering of the wild marigolds and the spreading of them everywhere from the family altar, to pathways, and even in the graveyards. This can be traced, in part, to the ancient Aztec celebration of Death.

Often in Mexico today the family will visit the cemetery where their loved ones are buried and bring them offerings. The main offerings given across the board, rich or poor, are the marigolds, or Flor de Muertos – Flower of the Dead. The flowers are thought to bring out the dead souls to feast on the offerings laid on the table or headstone.

Today the flowers are prized by gardeners the worldover for their long lived blooms that love the heat of summer. They are to be found in gardens across the world, a testament to the wonder of this wonderful flower of the dead.

Flor De Muertos

 

What a great challenge Sue!

What a great challenge Sue!
Although I would *have* loved to travel, my actual experiences outside the US have been extremely limited.
Fortunately, we've had a steady stream of people from all over the world come to stay with us.  We've had exchange students from Germany, Palestine, China, South Africa, Namibia, Japan and Scotland.
I think I'll have to borrow something from them to work on.  It certainly gives you new insight on your own culture when people who are experiencing it for the first time notice every day things that you take for granted.
I stumbled on a wonderful photo stream on Flickr.  The guy takes delight in looking at totally banal objects in a new way.  I am slowly working my way through his pictures, trying to ration them out so they last.  I'll post one below.

it's a bendy straw!

Enigma

Who am I anyway?  Parent, artist, businessperson, troublemaker?
This challenge got me to thinking, and I kept coming back to the possibility that I hide myself from myself.  Introspection has never been my strong suit, and I prefer to keep the layers in place rather than poke into the tender interior.

The title, Enigma, is pretty self explanatory.  I chose to present the image in dot form, because the closer you look, the more confusing it becomes.


Thanks for the challenge, Kate- it's been painful!

Look Behind the Mask

This challenge is one I've been thorough before.
During a big life crisis several years ago, I felt increasingly trapped and frantic, and worked out some emotions in a series of mask pieces.
The piece I'm posting here, Look Behind the Mask, is about needing to put on a calm face even though there is turmoil inside.
I was first learning about printing on fabric, those are my eyes looking out and my hands too. I cut the mask in half and sewed it back together with big stitches to emphasize the decisions I was being forced to make.
It's been show once, but is really too personal (read *embarrassing*) to put out there any further.

Happily, the problems worked themselves out in a constructive way- at this time, I really threw myself into quilting full time and have had a wonderful career as a result.

Back to the Barn

I've been involved with horses since I was a little kid, and the scent of a horse barn will instantly bring up many emotions.
I spent long happy hours riding, however the fragility of the animals and their varied fates also can bring waves of heart break.

As soon as I could drive, I began working with Thoroughbreds at the race track, and continued to do so all through college, on class breaks.

Year round, beginning at 5am., seven days a week.  Great plumes of frosty breath in the winter led to splashing hose baths in the summer to wash off the salty sweat.

The pageantry and glamour of the races was mixed with gritty hard work, occasional brutality and even death.  My fellow workers were a fascinating lot that abounded with 

Damon Runyonesque characters.

In leafing through old sketchbooks, I found a poem that had been written to me in college.

It must have been important at the time, although it was scrawled on the back of an envelope, I taped it inside and painted all around it.  Sadly, I din't even remember who wrote it to me, but the sentiment seemed appropriate to this piece.  I printed the scanned image on silk organza, and stitched it over part of the image.

Lower down, the original stereoscopic postcard appears, also on organza.

The horse head itself is simply sketched with thread on hemp and shaded with various neutral pigments.  I tried to make him noble, yet also remote, the way that horses are to me today.

This is the notebook page with the envelope if it's easier to read.

Smelly Me

What a fantastic challenge Diane!
The first thing I thought of was a show called Synesthesia that was at our art museum a couple of years ago.  Synesthesia

It was mind boggling to learn about perceiving things through different senses- here's a piece by Arthur Garfield Dove called Fog Horns-

Doesn't it LOOK exactly the way they SOUND?

One of the reasons the show was interesting to me is that I don't have synesthesia at all- things look the way they look, sound the way they sound, and smell like themselves, and my mind just doesn't volunteer to translate them different ways.

Smells, though, do have a Proustian effect on me.  Since I've been working in art studios since I was a little kid, taking summer and Saturday classes, the smell of turpentine and linseed oil takes me right back.  I flash on to the steel and glass exterior of the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia.  It brings up a complex set of feelings, the terror of having to take a train alone into the city mixed with the excitement of learning new ways to express myself.

If I wasn't in class, I was with horses.  I grew up riding in the hunt country of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and as soon as I could drive began working at the racetrack with the Thoroughbreds.  Here's a little sketch from back in the day-

To me, they smell great,  but my artwork reflects conflicting emotions- a great love for them, mixed with a sense of loss.  It's not something I have been able to do in my adult life, but I do have some wonderful memories.

Thanks for the challenge Diane, it will be very interesting to see what everyone comes up with.

Genesis

Genesis

To me, a horizon is more of a concept that an actual line- why?  You can never get there.

One thing I do constantly in my work is seeking out new territory- in imagery and processes.

Currently, I am trying to achieve dimensionality with the use of a needle and thread and a few common materials to sculpt the surface of the fabric.

In this piece, I've used hemp, kitchen string and crochet cotton to form an abstract image of a neuron.  Horizons begin in our brains, we look for them, strive for them, and constantly new ones appear.  Neurons connect in many dimensions, ever changing and expanding, just like artists who are always seeking new challenges.

Genesis, 18x24"

Genesis, detail

My friend Gale pointed out that you can always look at the horizon, but you can never get there.  That thought really ties into the way I feel about my work- every piece is a new journey, full of promise and *sometimes* fulfillment, but it ends up as a gateway to something else.


I love this quote by Kandinsky:

"An empty canvas, apparently really empty, that says nothing and is without significance. Almost dull, in fact. In reality, however, [it's] crammed with thousands of undertone tensions and [is] full of expectancy. Slightly apprehensive lest it should be outraged ... It can contain anything but cannot sustain everything ... An empty canvas is a living wonder -- far lovelier than certain pictures."

To me, every project is a journey,which leads not to a destination, but to further horizons - the act of creating itself is as integral to me as breathing.


It's great that the next SAQA conference has Expanding Horizons as the theme.  We meet, share thoughts and ideas, and come away with a wider word view and a new appreciation of things that are possible.


Finally, I'd like to close with a quote by the Uruguayan writer Eduardo Hughes Galeano-


“Utopia lies at the horizon.
When I draw nearer by two steps,
it retreats two steps.
If I proceed ten steps forward, it
swiftly slips ten steps ahead.
No matter how far I go, I can never reach it.
What, then, is the purpose of utopia?
It is to cause us to advance.”
― Eduardo Hughes Galeano


********what's out there for all of us?  Am looking forward to the results of this exquisite challenge !***********

Alpha State

Alpha State

When I was in college, I remember hearing about research done on alpha brain waves, and the discovery that throwing clay on the potters' wheel produced a very high level of them.

Alpha waves are connected to the following:

Light Sleep / Dreams / Meditation / Daydreams/ Creative Visualization / Connection to the subconscious I also recently met an archaeologist, Beth McCormack, who is doing some fascinating research into traditional textiles.  Her blog on textiles and the multi tiered cosmos is here: Miri Textiles She posits that there is a distinct link between weaving and an altered state of consciousness, and that some of the images produced during this handwork are entopic images, produced directly from the subconscious. So, for my symbol I chose a spiral to represent the hypnotic effect of working on a wheel, also including an *ancient* picture of myself doing same.  The material used is handwoven, and the quilting is by hand, all meant to reflect the traditional labor involved in this work, which is also deeply connected to the images produced.

 Alpha State, 18x24

Alpha State, detail

Cloud Study

Challenge 1, Gallery 1

 Cloud Study
One of the best things about living in the mountains is watching the ever changeable weather come in for 60 miles around.  The Vivaldi piece we used as inspiration made me think of the summer clouds rolling by, and a unique phenomenon called virga, which is rain that evaporates before it hits the ground.

-Betty Busby

Viewpoints 9: The Artists

Diane Wright

Martha Wolfe

Lisa-Marie Sanders

Lin Hsin-Chen

Sue Dennis

As we countdown the days until we go live with our first challenge on March 1st, there's time to meet the artists of Viewpoints 9.

Kate Themel

Since sources of inspiration are to be the focus our group, each artist provided an image that reflects something that currently inspires their work, one they are using or intend to use or a theme that runs through their work.

Mary Pal

Follow the link beneath each photo to learn more about the artist.

Misik Kim

Our art, our lives, our world, all influence our Viewpoints! Please, join us and share yours....
Your comments are always welcome here, or join us on our facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/Viewpoints9

Betty Busby
photo courtesy of NASA