boy I'm tired....let's go have potato salad

I just found out that I lost my venue for my Natural Selection show this summer. The Portland Art Center is closing, due to financial constraints. I'm determined to find another venue, feel confident that I can hold onto the grant funding I secured, possibly even raise some more in the meantime, but any disappointment I'm now feeling is for the loss of this fantastic venue for installation art in Portland. I can't say I wasn't entirely prepared for their closing--there have been multiple articles in the Oregonian recently about the brouhaha with the board quitting, accusations and rumors of all sorts being broadcast far and wide. I feel some sympathy for the director Gavin Shettler who, it seems to me, was really trying his level best to do a really great thing. I hope he can lick his wounds from this public drama and rise again with a great contribution to the Portland art scene.

As for me, I have some more ideas for possible venues and am going to get right on preparing my proposals. I feel momentum for this project that's been a long time coming, and once I set my focus on something, it's hard to get me off track, so I will perservere in making Natural Selection a reality. In some ways, I would love to just take my time with this show now that I'm motivated with no time constraints--take the time to really get it done right because it's a huge amount of work. On the other hand, with two respectable granting organizations supporting this project, I feel the responsibility to make this show happen this year.

I am really grateful that I started in on the work this week--I have three of the bonsai pieces in the works right now that I'm really excited about and will show you when they're done, hopefully next week. I have been contemplating this week what to actually show of this project in the blog. The bigger question is this: if I reveal each work as it's completed, will it spoil the effect of the show? Or: is it more valid to document the process of putting a show of this magnitude together in the blog because it will still feel new if a reader were to follow the process and then attend the actual show?

I think the latter option is the best, and I'll tell you why with a backstory. I took my first art history class in high school--it was a really great experience that I am still thankful for. I spent the better part of my teenage years at a very small private but very rural high school in California called the Midland School. How small? Well, the entire student body was around 80, but size isn't everything, and there were times where they definitely used it to their advantage. The best example of this was that if you had three students who were interested in a topic, and one teacher who could teach that subject, you could make a class on any subject. In the year 1983, four adventurous students decided we wanted to learn about art history and there was one dear teacher who happened to have freshly graduated with an art history degree from Williams College, and a class was born. To this day, I have no idea if there has ever been another art history class since in the history of Midland School.

Even though, thanks to my mom, I probably knew more than most kids my age about modern art, this class opened up a whole new structured world for me. And the beauty of it was--there we were, four very different young women, sitting in a small unheated classroom at rickety desks with our giant Jansons History of Art tomes where only a select few works were chosen to make the color section. Everything else was poorly reproduced black and white reproductions. But we still loved that book because it was our ticket to the world. I also treated it like a scrapbook, putting in newspaper clippings or postcards related to the things we studied--the image you see above is the cover of my actual book, (which we silkscreened with an inside joke derived from a rare Tom Petty song) and the previous two are some selected art-related clippings.

During the spring term, the teacher arranged a field trip where we went down to the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena and got to see some REAL art. That museum didn't own a lot of what we had actually studied, but I still cherish this image taken of us with Brancusi's "Bird in Space." (That's me doing a full body genuflection/reflection!) This is exactly how it felt to us--we were finally getting to "meet" our heroes. To this day, I still get a thrill when I actually SEE something in a museum I've only seen in print before. Even though textbooks have improved a gazillion times in the past two decades, it's just sooooooo much better to see art in person, but often even more meaningful when you feel an attachment to something in print first. Comprende? Are we coming full circle yet on my digression?

The other thought I had about blogging about the Natural Selection project is that I think it's rare for an artist to publicly share their process of professionally mounting a show. There are so many details that need to go into an art exhibition, and I would hope that some of you would find some interest in hearing how I do it. It's always a learning process for me, and this is definitely the most complex show I've ever taken on. So stay tuned, dear reader, if you're game for this "wild" ride. I'll leave you with this final image from my early art history days--my friend Laura decided she'd attend our final exam dressed as Augustus of Primaporta, one of the Roman sculptures we studied--it still cracks me up the way she tied that teddy bear to her leg like the child in the statue. Click on it to see it in its full glory!

the week in review....

Hey beautiful people! Looks like things are gonna happen for me next year. My piece sold at the Portland Art Center fundraiser this month, the same day that longtime Portland philanthropist Arlene Schnitzer possed up some cash that is separate from Henry Hillman Jr's matching grant for the PDX Panels Show. There are still plenty of pieces available at the Portland Art Center, featuring many well-known Portland names, so get yourself down there and invest in the best installation space in town!

The other big news of the week is that I got a nice grant from the Regional Arts and Culture Council for my Natural Selection Show. I have spent a lot of hours writing grants for this project this year, and it's a relief to know I have some outside financing because it's a major undertaking. I am still hoping for supplemental funding from some other sources, but this is enough to cover my materials at the very least. Stay tuned--when I'm back from the residency, the fun will begin on that project.

Lastly, thank you to any of you readers who may have voted for my brother Mathias and his nonprofit organization blueEnergy when they were finalists for the CNN Heroes award. They didn't end up winning, sadly, but it brought him a lot of visibility for the organization. I'll leave you with this parting shot, the winner of their "funny voter" photo contest, which happens to be taken by my friend Jane Wattenberg of my brother Jordan voting with the Hulk gloves on Thanksgiving.

PAC-a-go-go

Some great shows at the Portland Art Center this month--starting with a motion activated chorus of CPR mouths playing harmonicas. You have to see it to believe it--there are a dozen or so of these pieces situated in the large gallery space on the bottom level of PAC. As you enter, you activate the harmonicas to move towards the mouths and the effect of all the single notes playing around the room is hauntingly beautiful. The artist is Joseph Kohnke and he has a sweet little artist's statement that reads as folows:

"I am interested in conversions, the expressive shift that can occur when an inanimate object is given the characteristics of life. Potato chip bags that can breathe, wigs that are baptized, a measuring tape that can actively chirp like a hundred birds, or a single operatic note emanating from a combination of water, crystal and rubber. I try to get the properties of everyday objects to ascend to the role of being a vehicle fro a type of spiritual communication. I want to create conditions where these objects can voice issues of afterlife.”

Upstairs in the Light and Sound Gallery is an interesting piece by New Yorker Andy Graydon. It's two pieces, actually, but they work together. The first points out the architectural nuances of the room by tracing them with a line of projected light. The curious soundtrack is a four channel recording of the “room tone” of the empty space prior to the exhibition. It's very minimalist in its overall effect, which leaves room for big thoughts to enter the brain.

The other show I especially liked was also upstairs--a series of wall pieces created with paper and thread. Hiebert starts way back with the pulp, and the variations on the embedded threads cause the papers to distort in different, but beautiful ways as they dried.

What makes this show exciting is the time lapse films of her process that play in the other portion of the gallery. What was originally a laboriously slow process becomes animated into a life of its own. The title of this show is "The Life of Paper," which reminds me of a BBC series that Christian turned me on to called "The Secret Life of Plants." Watching the video of the paper moving is a lot like those great time lapse films that I've adored ever since I was a kid where you get to see a plant sprout, flower, and die within the course of a minute. Or a month's worth of weather patterns move through the sky in a flash. This is a great connection for Hiebert to make because papermaking, like many craft or art processes, is a technique that often invites a suspension of time and introspection. Seeing this slowness of a 24 hour (I'm guessing) period sped up into 24 seconds gives a traditional process both and elemental and a contemporary feel.

Before I left, I made sure to sign up to be an official member of Portland Art Center. Have you done it yet? Time's a wasting!Click here to join for only $35 and help preserve this mecca for local and national installation art.

I've also been in the studio. Took some pictures for you, yes I did. But I'm not gonna show 'em to you yet. No....I've got some other things on my agenda today. Here's a little sneak preview, dear readers, of the whole lot of 'em. Later on, I'll let you look at them one at a time. Okay? Okay.

morning light

Hey Beautiful People! We set our clocks back an hour last weekend for that time-honored tradition they call Daylight "Savings." I don't really see how we are saving any daylight, since I am up after the sun on most days. It's hard to deal with the sudden shock of near complete darkness at 5pm, but let me tell you, I definitely noticed that free bonus hour last weekend. I had enough time to sleep in, go out to breakfast at my new favorite joint Kenny & Zuke's (an authentic Kosher deli that's got the best bagels and lox in town, and supposedly a pastrami sandwich to die for) .....and work a decent day in the studio, AND dinner with friends. That's a good day in my book.

This morning, Christian and I both woke up early, still being on our old internal clocks. We decided to take advantage of it by starting our day with an early morning viewing of the Portland Building installation space which is sponsored by RACC. Why don't all galleries open at 7am, I ask? I wanted to check out the piece by Noah Nakell before it came down at the end of this week. I can't remember if I mentioned it here before, but I am on the selection committee for this installation space, so it's fun to see how the projects we selected come out. It's kind of a pain parking around there, being in the midst of the construction-ridden city center, not to mention the fact that at least of half the potential street parking spaces were taken up by city vehicles. I made a joke that our city motto "The City that Works" should be amended to include "......if you work for the city, that is."

No...I don't want to start this entry with a complaint. It's worth it to make the journey to this installation space. I had a show there three years ago and it was a great experience to make a piece that more of the general public experienced than the typical Portland art crowd.

Nakell is a relative newcomer to the local installation scene, but I hope this piece is an indication of more imaginative projects to come. I first saw his work in a show I blogged about many months ago with Madoka Ito.

Anyone who doesn't frequent the Portland Building on a regular basis might not notice that this is an art project because the entire installation area has been filled in with a wall that has a single window in the center. A window shade that is drawn down to a few inches above the sill. It's a strange sight for the inside of a public building, but it could easily be passed by as people carry on with their busy lives. Anyone curious enough to peek through this gap below is rewarded.

There's a little scene happening as if it's outside the window. It reminds me of a Michel Gondry fabrication--Nakell has made a diorama of a little house that's being swept away to sea. Except that it's a little more fantastical--the house floats on the waves and is lit from within. You can see inside the house to an empty chair at a table. The waves are interpreted by a series of rolling cylinders with heavily textured paper to make the choppy waters come alive.

The whole piece is lyrical, and made me feel a little melancholy. But in a good way. Nakell's idea from his proposal was that "in western society, we insulate ourselves from the natural world, as well as from social interactions in the human world around us. Increasingly, we find ourselves trading in real world experiences and interactions for a world made up of laptop and cellphone screens. Not long ago, a local cafe would be a meeting place, filled with conversation. Often times these days, cafes are as quiet as libraries. Every seat is filled with someone staring at a laptop, headphones on--out in the world but isolated."

As you know, faithful readers, I am interested when viewers have to use their bodies to experience a piece of art. This is a great piece for that. It really added to my experience to be asked to bend down so low to watch this magical world, especially as people bustled behind me through the turnstiles to take their places and start their relative days in this building where many important things in this city begin.

Here's a little movie he made of the test run in his studio. You'll get the idea:

Lightship initial test run from Nonverbal on Vimeo.

Noah Nakell is one of the artists on the roster at the Portland Art Center next year, if they can pull through their present financial dilemma. Hey, speaking of which, I encourage you, dear reader, to become a member of PAC for a mere $35--they need it now more than ever. Click here to join now, and you'll be supporting me and Noah Nakell as well! Of course, if you're in the position to donate more, you will be making a lot of people very very happy.

Natural Selection

Hey Beautiful People! I'm back, as promised, to tell you about the show I have up my sleeve for the Portland Art Center. I'm excited to FINALLY have this come to pass, as I've been working up to it since 2003 when I made my first bonsai-inspired forms. My initial idea was to diversify from wall work and make something for a pedestal for a change. But of course I've never been satisfied with simply creating single pieces, so this idea has simmered for many years until I finally hit upon what I wanted to do to make the single element into an experience. I want to share with you my project proposal, and the images I have included are all past works--not necessarily what will end up in the show. Here is the proposal that was accepted by the Portland Art Center:
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I propose to create an installation within an installation for the Portland Art Center’s main gallery. The title of this piece will be “Natural Selection.” I will erect a structure that will resemble the greenhouses you would find in a botanical garden. The structure will be designed to both reflect the size and shape and architectural features of the gallery space I am offered, and yet have its own character. It will sit in the center of a darkened room, illuminated from spotlights above. There will be enough space around this building so that people would feel lured into the colorful environment within this glowing edifice.

On one end, there will be an open door. People will enter and see hundreds of small sculptures, all resembling Japanese bonsai. In that ancient art form, humans create a miniature version of the world. My bonsai, however, will suggest scenarios where plants can choose their mates the way humans can--a blend of natural instincts and intellect. Their abilities to defy species and natural law will reflect our freedom to cross boundaries such as race, age, and gender. Each piece will present a different look at courtship, intimacy, and relationships. Using line and exaggerated forms, I will allude to body types or psychological characteristics. I will look to many sources for inspiration including Darwin’s writings pertaining specifically to plants, modern challenges to evolution theory of natural and sexual selection, erotica and contemporary nonfiction, singles ads, interviews, personal experience, and art history. I will produce a directory, and each plant will be given its own scientific name which will be printed on plastic markers exactly as you would find in a botanical garden.

This project continues my ongoing exploration of the ways that humans attempt to control nature, and in turn, nature finds a way to adapt or reassert itself, such as grass that grows in the cracks of a sidewalk or mildew that forms on an uninsulated wall behind a couch. In addition to the way my bonsai sculptures will think and act like humans, I plan to have a few surprise miniature environments in the upper corners or walls of the structure that will reward curious viewers, push the interior installation to utilize its architectural housing, and further explore the themes of sexual and environmental politics.
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So, as you may have already determined, dear reader, this is quite an ambitious project. I am hoping for grant funds so I can hire my friend Fred to construct the greenhouse for me, as well as pay for materials and the botanical markers, and maybe even a little bit of my time, if I'm lucky. I plan to blog as I go, which may dominate the conversation around here for the next ten months. Can you handle it? Personally, I'm really excited to have a project I can really sink my teeth into.

My Future File.....

Hey Beautiful People! Okay....I am back to tell you about two upcoming shows that have fallen into my lap lately.

Show one: I was one of the invited artists for a (mostly juried) show at Velvet da Vinci Gallery next January that's part of a bigger city-wide show in San Francisco called New West Coast Design. This show was inspired by the California Design exhibitions at the Pasadena Museum of Art (now the Norton Simon Museum) in the 1950s through the 1970s. New West Coast Design is a group of exhibitions to be held in different venues in and around San Francisco focusing on specific developments in the craft and design fields. Here's a comprehensive look at this exciting show:
San Francisco Museum of Craft + Design, ceramics, glass, furniture, curated by Kathleen Hanna and Ted Cohen;
Bucheon Gallery, fiber arts, curated by Michael Miller and Richard Portugal;
California College of the Arts, student competition, curated by Donald Fortescue, Chair of the Wood Furniture department;
Museum of Craft and Folk Art, California College of the Arts Exhibition, C Change: Craft in Our Future, Recent Graduates from the California College of the Arts;
The San Francisco Center for the Book, book arts curated by Steve Woodall;
Velvet da Vinci Gallery, jewelry and metal works, curated by Mike Holmes and Elizabeth Shypertt

So it's gonna be a craftapalooza! So.....you may know, dear reader, that my art degree is in jewelry/metalsmithing, but I haven't ever really used those skills AS an ACTUAL jeweler or metalsmith. I think of what I do with much of my installation work as being strongly influenced by both craft and metalsmithing concerns in the relation between the body and art, in an attention to detail, and the importance of a well-made object as a vehicle for conveying ideas. For the past few years, certain people have been asking me to make jewelry, but I haven't really taken the time for it. So now I was invited into this show and I decided to take the challenge. I am going to create this work, if all goes well, before we depart for Costa Rica, so I'll be sure to blog about it here.

Show two: I'm really really really excited that the proposal I submitted at the Portland Art Center was accepted for their Main Gallery next August. This is a project that I've been thinking about for literally three years, have been turned down by several venues, and finally am going to get to do it in all its glory. I am hoping to get some grant funding to be able to finance all the elements that will make this show fulfill my visions. I was going to elaborate on this opportunity, which is a much more intensive project for me than I've ever undertaken, but I will save that for a blog entry coming very very soon because I'm tired and ready to rest. This image is a teaser for you in the meantime.....