Getting Started Again

I am working on a new series; to be exhibited in January 2011 at the University of Louisville. My original plan was to mount the digitally produced Sacred Planet series, but surprisingly enough, when that series was completed (a year ago) I found myself longing for a return to the primitive hands-on practices upon which I have built not only a career, but most of my strongest efforts.

I am talking about simple processes. Dyeing fabric, and then adding layers of printing, which if I am lucky, will alchemically combine to produce what I can only describe as a visually poetic surface. No small feat. The traps are poor technique (the processes are deceptively simple) and/or trite or tired content, or both. I don’t have the luxury of being a newbie anymore. I can’t revel in the glow of a serendipitously printed dye surface, or the fun of printing with bubble wrap. Every beginning artist is entitled to the fresh excitement of those experiences, but sooner or later, as much as you hate it, you’ve got to ramp it up. I’ve discovered that the discipline leading to success is just as much fun as beginner’s fun, but it took me years to figure it out.

So discipline, what’s that about? I’ve written at length about discipline before. The writing done to prepare for the new series focused on three threads, which I share with you as a sort of November-December challenge.

What, I thought, would happen if I did what I always preach to students, and limited the variables that are an intrinsic part of creative making? And so I have.

Fabrics?
Silk, cotton and polyester overlays (driven by choice of process) with the addition of hand made papers.

Techniques?
Flour paste resist - because I love the texture generated by the paste, and it’s a good way to add contrast to cloth. Mostly abstracted design elements based on my twenty-year accumulation of symbolic images. (That’s my own unique visual language.) Devore (burnout) because I like how it looks, there is a symbolic side to the process, and Thank God we are out of the devore everywhere phase of surface design, so I can return to it without being in the middle of the pack. Screen printing, with some pigment and some sand – because it’s something new I’ve figured out and I like it. Paper lamination – because contrasting texture is good. That ought to be enough of a variety to give me some breathing space when I am fearful of being bored or trite.

Tools?
Screens - some of which are very old. They represent my personal development and also a certain sort of collective unconscious. But looser marks too – the mark of the flour paste, and the hand drawn mark. And the patterns on the paper used for lamination.

Theme?
The working title is Etudes: A Daily Practice. A musician practices etudes, the French word for study, in order to learn the repertoire and improve or refine playing. This body of work is my study. It is research into what happens when an artist’s methodology and content move forward within the parameters of limitation.

I look forward to sharing the unfolding with you. If anyone else thinks this sounds interesting, be challenged to set the same course! It would be thought-provoking to compare notes now and then. I’m hazarding a guess that a lot of what I’ll learn is going to manifest at the end of the process, after the pieces are mounted for exhibition…and not while I’m in the middle of the making.

It’s just one more leap of faith.

The Poetic Visual Surface II

I’ve been busy surfing the Net, seeking a definitive description of poetry as part of my quest to define the poetic visual surface. This definition is my favorite so far:

Poetry - A fundamental creative act using language.

It’s a contemporary definition but feels expansive in a way that the traditional definition, which I also found on line, does not:

Poetry. (from the Latin poeta, a poet) a form of literary art in which language is used for its aesthetic and evocative qualities in addition to, or in lieu of, its apparent meaning.

Maybe the classic definition would have been more intriguing if only I'd found it first. Now it feels as dry as a pile of last year’s pecan leaves.

If poetry is a fundamental creative act using language, than a poetic surface must also be a fundamental creative act. It’s visual by nature, but what else? How could it be defined? I had a feeling it was like pornography. I was having trouble defining it, but I was going to know it when I saw it.

Stumped, I looked up lyrical, a word cycling in my head.
Lyrical. adj.
1. Expressing deep personal emotion or observations.
2. Highly enthusiastic; rhapsodic.

That was good and felt right; exciting, actually.

Then my musician Darling shared a phrase from his own reading - “Perfection, in performance, should be considered a point of departure.”

Which we translated as: Perfection, even when accomplished, runs the risk of being dry if it isn’t supported by lyricism – deep personal emotion and/or enthusiasm. Perhaps listeners actually prefer a heartfelt performance, despite the possibility of imperfection. Musical performance is another fundamental creative act, employing music as the language.

And so my elusive definition took shape:

The poetic visual surface – inspired by deeply personal emotional or enthusiastic observations, which can be lyrical and/or evocative; a fundamental creative act, and one that considers perfection a point of departure.

Is there a higher calling for any artist?