Friday, August 31, 2012

Progress report on Ophelia

I found pinkish pillows at a moving sale today  that seemed to belong to Ophelia...once I dye them a bit.

Today I was extremely tired and achey, but went to the studio anyways.  I perked up there....especially since I was able to get the air conditioner reset to cool!  Had to take the ladder over to reach the unit.

I worked on the backgrounds of these three pieces, layering hair images under the flowers to mute the colors a bit.

The layers are not yet committed....I use PMA, positionable mounting adhesive, which really does remain largely repositionable until you burnish it down.  The surfaces are not yet burnished.

With a certain degree of terror, I ordered 10 frames for my ladies.

Help me re-name this installation

Help me re-title this piece.  I think Portraits of Longing is pretty cheesy.

Here are some options I came up with today:
Parlor Games
Distant Memory
Pre-feminist Parlor
Identity Deferred
The Gaze

Here is a word cloud I made about the piece.  What do you think it's title should be?

Here is the statement I wrote for the show at Van Brabson Gallery


Portraits of vulnerability, uncommonly captured in wistful cotton.  They are Madonnas, lost girls, older men and women stuck in their youth, young women old beyond years. Their sexuality is hemmed in by fine Victorian handwork , but within their boudoirs, they are free

We often think of portraits as true and memory as relatively inviolate .  We own our own image and memories and see them as accurate.  But it seems to me that when we are depicted by another, possibilities other than accurate fact are possible.

As I age, the stories of my childhood blur and are sentimentally remembered as someone else’s life.  I remember my Mother’s story as if it were my own. I remember my story as hers, though she died long before I began to forget the string of the narrative. Even my Father’s stories morph across gender and become mine. It seems that the stories of families can never totally expire.

As the older generation of my family dies, I am increasingly drawn to the detritus of others. I find shreds of story in the closets and trunks of attics , basements and op-shops. Some items hold the stories of their former owners: the archetypes of a life shrouded in mystery.

This brings me back to portraits. What happens when the creator of the portrait embeds the image in someone else’s story?

In this installation the detritus is false, a re-creation of over the top Victorian handwork. By sewing, gluing, dying, painting and placing these items with one another, I hope to open up a shared human story of longing.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Portraits of Longing recently exhibited

Portraits of Longing
Portraits of Longing was recently exhibited at Van Brabson Gallery  and I finally photographed the chair installation... in the new temporary studio.

The effect of framing

Terra Firma 1
Small, diminutive works of art become real once they are framed.  It is important not to be skimpy with space.  These little embroidered pieces could have been pinned to a wall...but they look like they don't matter when shown that way. Framed with lots of space around them, they can sing.

The sereis is named Terra Firma.  THe are mixed media drawings with embroidery on linen.
Terra Firma 2

Terra Firma 3

Terra Firma 4

Terra Firma 5