"UnBound" - Woodstock, VT Show

July 29, 2011

In conjunction with the annual Bookfest in Woodstock, the Artistree Gallery held a juried art show called,  "UnBound".  Artists submitted entries in a variety of mediums using the book as a focal point of their work.

                               

My application included three entries. I had done a series of birdhouses based on different books. The roof of the birdhouse was created from the book itself. The birdhouse was decorated with excerpts and pictures from the book that summarized the theme of the book. One entry was accepted for the show ... the Toulouse Lautrec Birdhouse.  On each birdhouse I used a special perch based on birdhouse theme. In the case of the Lautrec, I used a Barbie leg in a fishnet stocking and bright pick stiletto high heel as a metaphor for the dancers at the Moulon Rouge.

I particularly enjoyed the diversity of the entries. Very original ideas. Very pleased to have my work included in the company of the other artists juried in the show.  Was able to attend the opening for the show ... much larger crowd that I expected.

                                        

Fish Sculpture Installation

November 8, 2005

My neighbor, Paul, gave me a preserved tuna tail and I decided to use it in a whimsical piece. I used a large iron hoop for a fish body and suspended floating bones inside formed from flattened copper tubing. I made a pair of cartoon-like eyes from some smaller tubing and attached them slightly ahead of the body form. Inside the fish body I added a tiny fish figure representing food that had been eaten. The sculpture was supported on a large spring. That allowed the piece to slightly bounce and turn in the breeze to simulate swimming. Lee Ann and David liked the piece and bought it.




David and I loaded up the piece in my truck, secured it and headed to Brookline.






I unpacked and headed for the site they had selected. They had chosen an overhanging tree limb on the hillside above the pond.








Some things you don't realize until you see them for yourself. The tree was tall ... plus in was on the hillside ... and the ladder leaned out over the abyss!








Nothing to do but hang on to the ladder and pull it up ... and hope the wires hold it!


















One final adjustment and let it swing!










                         

Voila! Overlooking the pond and the Brookline hillsides ... 

I couldn't have asked for a better spot for my sculpture to be!

On Hanging Stones and Stackings

Liz,



I would like nothing more than to talk about my stones. Unfortunately for you, it may seem more like a manifesto than a chat. Feel free to flee!

Pack It In … Pack It Out
Leave No Trace Behind



I hang rocks. That is what I do. I leave a trace. I scream at the top of by lungs, “I too have been here.” Leave No Stone Unturned is a much better fit.
















My intent is not to change anything. The rock remains a rock unless it decides to be dust. The wire remains wire unless it decides to be rust. The bead remains a bead unless it decides to be a kaleidoscope of crushed glass on the ground. The bell remains a bell unless it decides to be mute.

















My stones change nothing save perception or association. I hang a stone and a hundred questions and scenarios rebound within my skull. My realities. Possibly yours. A found stone is on its own. Reality ... to be determined.












Here is what I do for myself. (Redheaded Sisters)





I do hanging stone groupings.




The groupings may be symbolic (family), about the stone (Rock River stones), or about the components (contrast and contradiction of stone and found objects). Sorry, could not find my pix of the one a traded the other day.

I leave what I call Hanging Stones when I travel.



Whether it is in a city or on a trail, the intent is the same. Hidden treasures. What would the finders think when they discovered the stone? When they turned a corner and happened upon a stone, would it be ….ahhh, Bruce was here … wow! … or what the crap?

I stack stones. I love to do them and I love to find them. (Marginal Way, Ogunquit - 37th anniversary 38 stones)I have always thought the appeal was about the vertical. (Flood recovery Williamsville)



When I find one while hiking, I must add a stone. That stone makes it mine … at least until another stone claims it for someone else. Visitors to the Jewish cemetery in Prague would leave small stones on the gravestones. These miniature stackings intrigued me. The stones were like an exchange of messages. Do they speak to you? No? Maybe they were whisphering. Finding stacked stones is often the highlight of a hike … even more, I love leaving them for others ... especially deciding just the right place to leave them.

So …. you still there? Think about what you are looking for. Grouping in a special place on your property … with local stones or Rock Rover ones. Or, a single stone or multiple stones tucked away along a special walkway. Or a cairn … or a stacking. Whatever. Think about it … Spring is probably best. Take a look at these pix to decide if the idea and the actual object are a good match for what you are thinking about. If so, just let me know and we will work something out.

bruce

Donner Party

About a year ago, I visited a studio in central Vermont and saw some work based on Peruvian mummies. The pieces were wrapped in colorful cloth and earthy tones and hung in shadow boxes. I wanted to use the idea in some way in pieces that I do. I did a piece for the porch based on what I had seen but envisioned the parcels as something wrapped by a black widow spider. I wrapped arms and legs from my Barbie doll parts with tattered strips of colorful clothe and wound that with monofilament line to simulate a spider’s silk thread.

I expanded the idea to a series of five shadowboxes on barn board containing similar wrapped body parts. Each box also contained bone circles as contrasting background inside the box. As a header for the piece, I used a piece of driftwood that ran the width of the barn board. The driftwood had a small indentation about midway. The idea that I was playing with was a black widow spider nest egg for a rainy day or some kind of automated delicatessen with preserved body parts for man-eating spiders. I don’t know where this idea came from, but I have it and have to live with it.

Meanwhile, I found a piece of melted glassed (the bottom of a bottle) that had been in a fire. It caught my eye because it was shaped just like a mouth and lips. I hollowed out the indentation in the barn board and glued in the glass with lots of gorilla glue. It foamed up great when it dried so it looked like a mouth foaming and frothing. I got another idea for the piece. I inserted a small hand so it protruded from the lips. Hanging from the end of the barn board, I attached an old, rusted serving fork. From my pantry, I got a can of Manwich Sandwich in order to get the label. I cut out two pieces to glue inside of the two shadowboxes. One said “Manwich Sandwich” and the other said “Joe’s special meat sauce”.

I decided to call the piece The Donner Party.

In August, after the flooding, I did a sale in order to donate all proceeds to disaster relief locally. I was delighted when my friend Ginny came by an indicated that she wished to buy The Donner Party ... only if I would change the name!


For some strange reason, I do not expect this piece to sell.

November 2011 - I stand corrected. I sold this to my friend Ginny!

For a Rainy Day

Sometimes the holidays give me the blues. That combined with officially handing in my retirement letter and semi-dwelling on dad's nursing home situation, sent me to the barn.



I had been pondering a piece based on some work I saw on a visit to a studio on the Walpole Open Studio Tour. The essence was a fabric wrapped bundle(not sure that I am satisfied with it - don't like the crook in the elbow and it is not hanging just right), reminiscent of the Peruvian mummies but hanging like from a spider's thread. I tried a first effort at the image with modifications on the idea using a bone slice, some wire spider web, background bolder painting inside the box and the bundle containing an arm with a hand extending. My idea was about storing necessities for a rainy day. The larger idea that I may want to extend this to is a wall of similar storage boxes, all black and dark, like our self-storage units.

60 to Life

I continue to struggle with having to place my dad in a nursing home and more so with his ever-increasing dementia. Painting seems to be an avenue to help me with my attempts to make make sense of it all. As I said, attempts!


Within each of us, there exists a personal cell ... perhaps, a personal hell. Cell or hell, it is there that we retreat ... it is there that we make our last stand. We enter via a long and circuitous path ... traversed at a slow meander ... or in a single step. We carry our cells with us at all times ... to be ready in an instant. Once inside, all that we are, or ever have been, gone.Loved ones search for us in vain. Their efforts yield no more than worn, battered shells, familiar only in their appearances. But, we are gone!

An instant ... a recognized name ... a fleeing peek through the bars ... maybe ... but, we are gone!

NEXT

We recently placed my dad in a nursing home. I wanted to paint something for him for his room. He will not know what it is. He may not understand that I painted it or who I am. I am not sure this is for him or about him.


A rough visualization of the painting has been swirling around in my head for about a week now and it has been a difficult week. I sketched out the basic composition and tried out numerous meanings. It was the meaning that escaped me, but it was meaning that I wanted. It was imperative that I frame the picture with reality.

Reality happens fast. One moment it is nowhere to be seen and the next, it stares you in the face. I think we are eye-to-eye now. I understood and knew that dad was losing it. I did not want to see that. It was standing there in the open field for all to see. I looked away. I did not want dad to go into the nursing home. I did not want to see that. The need was there, right on the mantel, for all to see. I looked away. Now, we are eye-to-eye. He is in the nursing home. It is ok. It is supposed to be.

I was determined to finish this painting. I roughed it out, but was not really happy with it. I sketched in the essential figures and laid in the basic color patterns that I had envisioned. But, reality is never that clear. I realized that I needed to mix the colors and to cloud the images. I clouded them to make them real. I realized that I needed to add meaning. I was not sure if I had the skill to add that to the canvas. I was not even sure that I had the skill to add that in my mind’s eye. I reversed the peephole. I wanted to look inside. I wanted you to look with me.

We must look into the abyss. What I see is my dad’s reality. But, it is also my future. Maybe the fear is for me … maybe for the rest of us as well. Hope is that we too will not understand. We too ...all of us ... will don the polka dot gown. We will slide the dunce’s hats on our heads and they will fit nicely. We too will ... without exception ...step in line and everyone will know we should be there and will hope, as I have for my dad, that we don’t know too much.

One day, we will step forward … and we will be NEXT.