Archive for the ‘installation’ Category
Installing at MOT (Museum of Contemporary Art, Tokyo)
The unsung heroes of the art world include museum installation staff. They are often accomplished artists in their own right, and with large projects like these, they are indispensable. MOT‘s team was fantastic. We had a few hiccups (one of which was that humidity in Japan caused my print to wrinkle), but they are saving the day and making my work look its best.
I cannot tell you how great it is to have such careful, dedicated, clever folks to entrust my work to.
Throughout everything the exhibition curator Kasumi and another curator, Uta (who is assisting me with translation and helping me personally) have been amazing in helping me create my vision in their space. The museum space itself is amazing. I only wish I’d had more lead time to do even more (especially with all that vertical space!!!) I can’t wait to see everything after participation!
On a more personal note, one of the many new medications for CFS/ME that I am using is helping tremendously with my energy levels and recovery rates. This meant I was able to do this install so much more easily and made this trip so much better.
Transitions- continuing my art through illness
The corner of my empty studio
Since becoming sick with ME/CFS, I have had a lot to contend with and it has changed my practice. I have limited energy, and I have to spend it wisely. I have only minutes at a time of standing, walking, holding my head upright, etc. before I need to take a rest. Then again, my practice changed a great deal when I became pregnant, and it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to my art (I did the first Identity Tapestry while pregnant and it brought me into Installation). The main effect is that I have to pace myself, and think through everything many times before I make the effort of _making_. I suspect it will generate more thoughtful new work. I also have new reserves of patience, and new understanding to feed my empathy.
Right before I got sick I had come to an inflection point in my work where I knew I would have to start hiring assistants to complete large projects, but I was dragging my feet. For those not familiar with how art at a certain scale of production goes, this is pretty normal and has a long history reaching back to the studios of the famous Renaissance painters and before. Even without being sick, I needed to accept that I now needed assistants.
For the three shows I did in the first year of my illness, I relied on the help of an awesome network of friends and my husband (who even learned how to dye wool!) to help me do my work. They were my hands. They got me through the installations at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, The San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles and at the Marjory Barrack Museum. Initially it was hard to conceive of hiring strangers to come into my home in the vulnerable state I was in, given that I had already resisted it before. I wasn’t ready then.
At the same time I became sick, we realized we had to do major repairs to the foundation of our house, and it became a huge remodel complete with moving out. After I did the museum shows that year, I buckled down to the task of packing and purging the house… again with the help of my amazing friends. My outside studio space was unreachable for me (and not wheelchair accessible even if I had the energy to work after driving there and parking) and essentially became expensive storage while I hoped I got better. I turned down some shows and applied to nothing while I used all my energy to move house.
Today I am a little better overall. The house is moved into a temporary space, and I finally let go of my studio of 14 years. The new studio and shop space I will have in our house will be an absolute dream though, and I can’t wait. In the meantime, I have use of our temporary garage and have set up the studio there, complete with a chair that supports my neck and torso so I can sit up longer.
Now that I have the moving hurdle done, I am back to exciting new projects! This spring I will be doing a new participatory installation that I have been thinking about since 2014 and am super excited about: Access. There is also another installation in another country coming up in the summer which I can’t wait to do. Details will follow when everything is confirmed, dried and dusted.
In the meantime, it’s time to take the leap and hire some assistants. Whatever my condition, my work will continue.
Natural Dyeing for Sukkah Project
I’ve been invited to inhabit the Sukkah at the Contemporary Jewish Museum (San Francisco) on October 8th for one day of the holiday of Sukkot. They invited six artists to each take a day to create an open studio or installation project inside the frame of the Sukkah. I decided to take the opportunity to do a new Participatory Installation piece within that frame entitled Refuge of Leaves.
Process
These are photos of the dyeing process for this new project. These are the first three batches, using pomegranate dye, rhubarb dye and artichoke dye. Each dye changes depending on if I scour the paper first, or if I add a mordant, or if I add iron. I did every combination on four kinds of paper to get a wider variety.
As I’m going, I allow the paper to show some marks- wrinkles, the mark of the iron, irregularities, etc. Showing their history, that they have been through something, a difficult process that may even damage them seemed like a perfect parallel to individuals seeking refuge, to people who had a story to tell.
About the Piece
Traditionally a Sukkah is a symbolic ritual space of refuge in the wilderness created for the holiday of Sukkot in the Jewish faith and tradition. “Refuge of Leaves” creates a Sukkah as a space for reflection where people from many backgrounds can reflect on and share their personal experiences of refuge from “wildernesses”, whether physical or metaphorical. As a Sukkah it symbolizes a liminal space of safety within the wilderness between worlds.
I followed traditional aspects of the Sukkah in using natural plant-based materials in the form of a variety of papers from different places and times, including papyrus as well as paper that could be put through a modern printer. These are for participants to write responses to their choice of prompts on the subject of refuge. I am hand-dyeing the papers with natural dyes to mimic the color range of plants one might build a traditional sukkah from. The dyeing processes also makes each piece of paper individual in color and texture, just like the people writing their responses.
The word “leaves” in the title functions in a number of ways. The individual leaves of paper in a larger book, the plant leaves that form a traditional Sukkah, and the nature of a this kind of refuge as a temporary shelter (not a home) that eventually requires one to leave. The structure is very literally a refuge made of leaves that each participant leaves behind.
As part of this project I will be there from 10AM until 4PM to discuss my work and facilitate the process. Please join me.
At College of the Redwoods
Today Between the Lines (experience exchange) went up with the help of the head of the Black Student Union and the Professor heading the Book of the Year project. There are always hiccups, but now it looks exactly as it did in my mind and even though the official opening isn’t until Thursday it already had some participation.Some of the students who will get to participate are taking correspondence courses from prison, and I’m so glad I was able to get something of the piece to them, because having a place for their stories to be told is important.
My interview for the local NPR member station is here. It doesn’t have the image and specific link yet, but it is the Feb, 21 one.
The piece works much like Scales did. Participants write a response to a writing prompt on a hand-painted paper and exchange it for someone else’s. Then they read that person’s response and tie it to the frame which they feel it belongs most to (Repression, Expression, Privilege, Opportunity, Love, Hate (fear), Resistance, Compliance, Accepted, Suspected, Hardness, and Openness). Being asked to place it not only gets them to read someone else’s experience, but it also gets them to think about it in the context of the themes in the book.
I wrestled a lot with the themes and questions. I had to tailor the themes and questions for people who might not have read the book yet (half the students read it in the second semester), and also to make it approachable. So much of what is wrong with the world that we need to change is things we cannot bring ourselves to engage with. My job is to engage people, so I find myself walking the line of bringing up difficult issues in such a way that people can approach at their own speed, even in a way that seems fun and colorful.
I’ll show more about this new work later when I have more pictures of participation, but tonight I’m thinking about the screening of 13th at the college and the thoughtful, powerful discussion moderated by the Black Student Union afterwards. The students I have met here have been wonderful and I am honored to be here.
in-process on “Between the Lines (Experience Exchange)”
These are the first set of “pages” for participants in Between the Lines (Experience Exchange) to write on. The materials are translucent acrylics on vellum with bookbinding thread sewn into the tops to tie them into the structure.
The piece was commissioned by the College of the Redwoods for their annual Book of the Year celebration. This year’s book is Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates.
The structure of the piece is a large sculpture created a s a physical framing of some of the book’s core concepts (I saw them, but also based on interviews with the author, reviews, and discussions with other people). The questions also derive from the book, and will ask participants to respond with their own related experiences.
Thoughts on Performance Art- my Ritual Space approach
So I have a lot of thoughts on performance art. Many of them come down to the idea that when you push it to the extremes (which is one of art’s natural habitats) it becomes about enacting extremes on the body. Extreme pain (so many), extreme pleasure (Seed Bed comes to mind), sex, nudity, privation, stillness, repetitive motion… so many extremes of what the body is and what it can take. An extension of that is the extremes of emotional exposure as seen in and through the body. There are many interesting, important approaches to this, but I feel like it is ground well covered, and not what I’m interested in for my own work.
My work isn’t about me or my body or extremes, it’s about creating a platform, structure, even a ritual space for others to engage with ideas I present: with each other, with themselves, and now, possibly with me.
Ritual space is something I have been interested in for as long as I can remember. It was central to my studies in my first undergrad in History of Religions. I took a wonderful anthropology-based (Turner-centric) course on Ritual, but I saw ritual in everything from folk tales to architecture and football games. Ritual space is throughout our secular and personal lives- the ritual space of a hot bath with candles, a classroom, a bar, a gallery or a public library. These spaces have forms, rules, and roles which set them apart from other spheres and spaces in our lives and they create feelings and thoughts unique to those spaces. In these spaces we are ourselves, and yet ourselves in a specific role or character to fit the space, observing certain rituals of that space (a 3rd grade teacher will be themselves at both a bar and their classroom, but different selves).
In #DadaTarot I am creating a ritual space for the action to happen in. That action requires a mediator with a certain level of otherness and authority. A slight change of clothing and demeanor is enough to create this. I am still very much being myself, but I have given myself certain rules (some of which I specifically gave myself permission to break). The rules, the clothing, demeanor and the simple object of a table give me the structure of a ritual space for the piece to work in. Given the nature of Dada I didn’t even allow myself anything fancy for the table- it is a ready-made cocktail table and the covering was the first plain black piece of fabric on the top of my fabric pile, not sewn or tidied in any way.
For this piece, the Role of Barker/carnival worker has to be there to set the interaction apart from other gallery interaction, but also to get the participants to enter in a questioning way. These roles are known for being untrustworthy. I want people to come to this project with skepticism. For this piece I would absolutely not dress in any kind of clothing associated with actual fortune-tellers with very good reason: my role does not actually involve doing the fortune-telling. That I leave to the participants. The barker’s role is to bring bystanders into the action and tell them what the rules of the game are, which is what I do.
Me in the role as artist would to explain the piece and how it fits into my work. In the case of me performing in this piece (as opposed to someone else performing the piece while I stand next to it as Artist) I mostly steer clear of this. If they press, I mostly answer as Barker, not artist as to the nature of the piece. That said, I am remaining myself. This performance allows for expressing what I want to say, holding back, and then allowing myself to be pressed for an opinion, even as I say I should not really be giving it… which is what good Barkers do too.
I suspect more of my work is heading in this direction. Most of the participatory works need some kind of “baby sitter” during interactions to explain the interactive process to people and to keep people (especially drunk people) from breaking them or walking away with parts of the art. Mostly the ritual space of Gallery with the role of Gallery assistants covers this. Now that I am looking this aspect of my work in the face and acknowledging that what I am creating with my installations is ritual space (inside the ritual space of gallery/museum/etc.), it logically follows to incorporate ritual roles for certain works.
*note: I am fully aware that not all performance art involves extremes, and there is a lot of performance art out there (physically extreme and not) which I admire. A lot of it is politically extreme and I applaud that too. This studio blog post is about my own artistic path.
#DadaTaroT @ open studios
I did a less formal version of the #DadaTaroT piece at this fall’s open studios. I am really enjoying this piece! A lot of people asked some pretty intense questions, and many interesting interpretations and conversations arose.
A few odd things keep happening: out of the (4?) times people have asked about Trump winning the election (the piece was made during the primaries), Elvis has been drawn three times out of the nearly 100 media cards. What is one to make of that?
Another thing that has happened at least three times is that pairs of friends have picked the same card after the entire deck was shuffled.
Two groups went as three people together instead of a pair.
In this iteration, a questioner asked about the nature of the artist as a child, and the person answering was actually quite right. Another person made an offhand comment that the questioner would get a tattoo on their hand… which it turned out they already had. A surprising number of people asking about their own mortality.
Narratives upon narratives.
Apologies… the notes on the two responses seems to be lost. I’m working on recovery and will post them when and if I get them.
#DadaTarot: the first readings
I created this project for a show celebrating the 100th anniversary of Dada. I made the #DadaTaroT deck out of two sets of images: 21 red wood and laser-etched cardboard symbol cards, and over 200 media image cards on laser-etched cardboard.
The method was simple: a pair of people (strangers, lovers, friends…) would be invited by the performers dressed in carnival-esque gear to each ask a question which they could not at that moment know the answer to. One person would ask (aloud or in silence) and then select one red card and two brown cards. The partner would then use the cards to attempt to answer the person’s question. Then they switch. I documented each one in rough and ready fashion with a photo and hastily hand-written notes. These are the results.
The Dadaists were coming out of the horror of WWI that left many of their generation feeling that life was meaningless and absurd: Religion, Government, Philosophy and Art seemed to have utterly failed to provide meaning in the context of that horror. The Dadaists embraced and exposed the absurdity.
I used Tarot because it seemed to be a perfect intersection of the randomness that a lot of dada art has employed through the use of games of chance together with a random assault of media and symbolism wherein we search for meaning. In the end it is about what each person brings to it and what they _want_ to find, but as in all interactions it’s not just our interpretations, but the interpretations of those around to us, or even close to us that have an effect. Our negotiation of those interpretations of our world together are what interests me as an artist. This exchange provided a platform for mini exchanges and negotiations of how we interpret our shared world.
So many interesting things happened during this project, only a few of which are visible in these records- the best of it was within the interaction. It is very much is about what people bring to it.
Identity Tapestry to show in Switzerland
From the first iterations of Identity Tapestry I’ve been wanting to create it both in a museum space and in another language. I’m pleased to announce that this May I’ll be doing both! Identity Tapestry will be up as part of the upcoming show “Identity” for four months starting this May at the Vögele Cultural Center in Pfäffikon (just outside Zurich).
I will be flying out for the install and I’m incredibly excited. Any iteration demands a look at which statements to include or leave or if new ones ought to be added, especially in a new area or situation. In this case the language use should be especially interesting because there are essentially two languages at work there: High German and Swiss German. One is the official language which is used for nearly all text, the other is the language of intimate conversations and the inside of one’s own head. Apparently it is only recently that the Swiss-German language has appeared in text, and then mostly in text messages, and only to very intimate friends. How I approach these languages and navigate translations will add new levels of complexity to the piece. Thankfully the curatorial staff is wonderful and I have a local Zurich-raised person who is willing to consult with me on language as well.
The Crucible of Deadlines and Constraints
My problem as an artist has never been lack of ideas or even crafting skills. The real skill is deciding what is most important and when, what not to do, what to sacrifice, what to put the most time and effort into. Drawing itself is an act of selection- what line to place, what line to ignore, what line to emphasize, tweak, or ghost.
So right now I have a good problem for an artist- two shows at the same time. One I committed to months ago, but without a specific piece. Since I knew I could have more space for that show I prepared to spread out and create a larger installed environment. Then I was invited to be in a show in a museum just outside Zurich, Switzerland. They wanted a specific piece, and it is one I have to be there to put together. And they open two days apart.
Now that the Switzerland one is confirmed I’m turning back to the first one. Suddenly I have more constraints. Something that can run itself. Something smaller and easy to install. Still something interactive. In the case of this show, something both contemporary and Dada. I was intimately familiar with Dada before I left high school and I loved it then, but two more advanced art degrees have actually put me at more of a distance. So I dove back to the source. I re-read the manifestos, looked back at the beginnings and what motivated them. Suddenly an entire new interactive, small, easy to set up artwork burst out of my head. And it will work. And it comes right out of the unconscious pool of all the ideas I am constantly exploring. Better still, because the process of Dada involves some randomness, it will be fun and surprising to make. I’m excited.
When I have enough time and resources to do whatever I want without a burning idea starting in my mind and a place to put the result I do very little that gets finished. Give me a place, a time, and a single constraint or direction and suddenly my mind is on fire and my hands itching to create.
From the Studio 