This piece, “Prairie Spring”, is currently on display in “The Horse” exhibition at the Ryniker-Morrison Gallery of the Rocky Mountain College in Billings, MT. The text is a Willa Cather poem of the same name.
I’m so pleased to have been selected for inclusion in the annual juried review issue of the Letter Arts Review! And to be included as a tile on the page cover (top right)!
I realize that although I have posted a process image of the piece , I never did post a final image. Here it is, shown below. I’m also honored to have “Fragment” included “Formation,” a juried exhibition of the Guild of Book Workers which will travel to Minneapolis, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Boston, and Philadelphia in the coming year.
I had a wonderful time Friday night at the opening of my solo show in Missoula. I took these photos just before the opening began. It’s a good thing I did because, although I thought I’d get some more photos later, I forgot all about it once people began arriving. It doesn’t matter much; my photography skills can only be described as underwhelming.
It was gratifying to see it all come together so well. Thanks so much to Ann Franke and my husband Ed for helping to hang the show. Actually, I think the better characterization is that I helped them hang the show!
A solo show of my work opens on Friday at The Artists’ Shop in Missoula. I’m almost ready. Here are a couple of things to see in the show:
Gouache and a #6 Mitchell nib, lettered to fill a 12″ circle on soft-pressed Fabriano Artistico. I began doing this style of whatever-it-is in high school, long before I discovered calligraphy. The text come from 32 speeches by US presidents 1-44. I have found it a comfort to ruminate on the words of our previous US presidents, from Washington to Obama.
I’ve done several circular pieces for the show, including the paper mosaic, Fragments, that I posted about earlier. It was finally completed last week.
Many pieces in the show are the originals of work I did for a commissioned book of poetry. I re-did this one, this time without regard to the center gutter. You’ll probably have to click on the image to read the list of words that make up the stems of most of the flowers. Size is 12″ square.
I know I’ve been quiet. I’ve been keeping my head down and getting the work done. In between, I made a quick trip to Chicago to take a bookbinding workshop on forwarding basics with Karen Hanmer. What an excellent teacher! I’ll post more on that … when I get a little more done.
A show of my work opens on Friday, September 1, at the Artists’ Shop in MIssoula. It’s been a long time since I had a solo show, and I had partially forgotten all the work that goes into one.
I’ll be showing 14 pieces from the book that poet Madeleine Gomez commissioned. I’ll also have some newer broadsides and books. Lately I’ve been into circular designs (see one example below). I’ve become enamored of texture, specifically textures formed by our alphabet, and the circular format. I’ve always liked the square format; a circle shares properties of a square but is more dynamic, moving the eye.
Orders for framing supplies – mat board, foam core, framing chops, Plexiglas – had been arriving for the past week. In preparation, I assembled a matting/framing station in the basement TV room: work table on cinder blocks on towels, cutting mat, mat knives, 4-foot metal ruler, Logan mat cutter and knife, empty trash can, and so on. Last night I started. I queued up some “Father Brown” mysteries, which I’d never watched before, and got to work. A mere 4 hours later, I had 12 finished mat sandwiches awaiting the construction of their frames, plus hole-less mats and foam-core backs for 6 more pieces. Not bad for an evening’s work, given how long it’s been since I did much framing. And the Father Brown mysteries were quite enjoyable.
About a month ago I though it would be a good idea to do this Amy Lowell poem as a paper mosaic. It’s looking more and more as though this piece may be finished in time for the show.
The day after I went to the Grolier Club, The Frick, and The Morgan, Ed and I visited The Metropolitan Museum of Art. This time, for a change, we took a tour of the highlights of the museum. It was interesting enough, but afterwards we wandered, and some things particularly caught my eye.
Gallery 690 displays a rotating selection of The Met’s prints and drawings. We made it a point to visit this gallery to enjoy the etchings by Rembrandt and Castiglione that were on view. The costume studies by Leon Bakst were also incredible.
I was interested to see examples of the graphic design of Erwin Puchinger, an Austrian who designed for Viennese newpapers and periodicals at the beginning of the 20th century. According to the information provided by The Met, this design for a certificate of Viennese citizenship shows his early exposure to the English book illustrations of the Arts and Crafts movement, its four allegorical figures are reminiscent of Pre-Raphaelite, and the decorative borders show Moorish influences.
This framed piece shows the black-and-white design of a book cover with notes indicating color and adjustments, as well as the 3-color-printed piece on blue cloth. Puchinger was chair of the manual graphics design department of the Viennese Graphic Design School and this was 1913 publication honored the school’s 25th anniversary.
You can see images of everything on display in Gallery 690 here. Take a look at Leon Bakst’s illustrations!
Through a post in the Book-Arts-L listserv, I recently discovered that something interesting things have been going on in Baltimore regarding artist books. This article in HUB, the Johns Hopkins magazine, describes an interesting class, “Paper Museums: Exhibiting Artists’ Books at the Baltimore Museum of Art”, which led to an exhibit from the collection of artists’ books at the Baltimore Museum of Art. This exhibit, entitled Off the Shelf: Modern and Contemporary Artists’ Books, opens tomorrow, and I wish I could see it.
Many of the books are collaborations between authors and artists –between Guillaume Apollinaaire and Raoul Dufy, between Stephen King and Barbara Kruger, between Joan Miró and Paul Élard. This article has more detailed information about the pieces in the exhibit. Unfortunately, there is no catalog. I asked.
On a recent trip to Australia, I visited the best ever museum: the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA), up the river from Hobart, Tasmania. What a ride! And I’m not talking about the ferry we took from Hobart’s Sullivan Cove to the MONA — although that was a great way to start the journey.
Here are a couple of photos of one of my favorite installations, entitled “”.
A closer look at the untitled installation
I was aware of so many simultaneous reactions to this room full of blank white books — undergoing a kind of vertigo of meaning while critiquing a loose headband; contemplating the horror of a zombie library while wondering at the artist’s control in not making a mark in any of the books or shelves or tables; imagining the impact of one red dot while wondering at the impulse to find meaning even in this blank room; acknowledging the urge to make a mark somewhere while mulling over various criticisms of the blank book made within the artist book community; remembering a cartoon from my childhood in which all the musical notes came loose from the staves and fell off the page; thinking about invisible ink, the perils of magnetic media …
And that was just one work of art on the three subterranean floors of the MONA. We stayed all afternoon and didn’t see everything — not even close.
Here were some of the highlights for me:
“Kryptos” by Brigita Ozolins— winding corridors upon whose walls were a binary code translation of The Epic of Gilgamesh, with ancient cuneiform artifacts set into the walls at intervals;
“Pulse” by Rafael Lozano Hemmer — a row of incandescent bulbs (imported from China because the are illegal to buy in Australia), each one blinking at the heart rate of a visitor who stepped up to the monitor and recorded his or her pulse — and then you turn the corner into a room full of the bulbs;
“When My Heart Stops Beating” by Patrick Hall — open each of the floor-to-ceiling drawers to read text and hear a recorded “I love you”; it’s indescribable, you just have to be there, but here’s an article about it;