A New Day- Engage!

Always heed The Picard.

Dear Reader, when last we convened, you were kind enough to read “2020 Transparency: An accounting,” in which I measured my progress thus far against last year’s goals for educating myself and advancing my art career. In this time of sickness and social isolation, however, it seems almost quaint to write about getting out and about in the art world. I am truly fortunate that those I Iove are in good health, and do dearly appreciate that this has allowed me to pursue my enduring fascination. I am writing today, though, with the firm belief and experience to know that it is important to proceed (however remotely) regardless.

The virus has demanded that everyone make adjustments. My “normal” job through the year is as the nanny to my sister's kids, which allows me the opportunity to make work in my studio while they are at school. Recently, of course, we have switched to the “summer” schedule, and, since my sister works long hours at a hospital, my practice has shifted more to research, writing, and doing whatever I can online while the kids are at “virtual school” for two hours. In that time I've learned that there are plenty of ways to engage with the art world, and to educate oneself while social distancing. The following is an account of some of my activities, and then what I plan to do to keep the ball rolling. With that, I do hope you and the people you love are well, and wish you all the very best, and that you may find a way to continue your art practice as well.

This week I finished my applications for the Baltimore Artist Retreat, as well as a Rauschenberg grant. The retreat, which is offered by the Robert W. Deutsch Foundation here in Baltimore, would provide professional development and networking opportunities to Baltimore area artists – free of charge! (The Deutsch Foundation also offers a variety of opportunities to local artists- to learn more about them, click here.) Professional development? Networking opportunities? Yes, please! One thing I've learned about life is that nothing happens unless you put your coat on and go outside. In this case, I'm merely extending a virtual handshake to the Deutsch Foundation, but, (fingers crossed!) they will accept me into the retreat. Just applying for the retreat was an educational experience, as you are asked to clearly state your artistic practice, your goals, and your experience of community. Going through this process allowed me to see how my practice has grown over the past year, and renewed my desire to connect with other artists in our community.

I applied to the Rauschenberg Foundation because they offer emergency grants for artists to cover medical expenses. Earlier this year I had to have an unexpected surgery- and while I am so fortunate to have completely recovered, the resulting medical bill has put a strain on my finances. This, coupled with the fact that my part time teaching at the Baltimore Clayworks has been put on hold, really got me thinking about doing everything I could to satisfy the debt. Even if I don't receive the grant, applying for this was an educational experience, and at least somewhat empowering. The Rauschenberg Foundation also offers a variety of grant opportunities- (to learn more about these- click here)

Detail of “Discovering the Deepest Mirror,” from my Alice in Wonderland inspired pieces at the Baltimore Clayworks show…

Feeling invincible with my newly updated artist statement and resume, I began to search out other ways to connect with the art world. Because I subscribe to email notifications from a number of art galleries, museums and calls for entry, I started with my email. And poof! Here was a message from Create! Magazine. This magazine is run by artist/ curator/ and “art boss babe” Ekaterina Popova. In addition to the showcasing artists' work in the magazine, she curates an online shop, PxP Contemporary, to market and promote artists' work. She hosts her own podcast, “Art & Cocktails,” curates shows for New York galleries, including Field Projects, and hosts artists' work on her instagram. In the letter, Miss Popova, “Kat,” encouraged artists to stay positive during this time, and reminded everyone that it is free to submit work to the Create! Magazine blog. Perfect! Free is just my price point, and it would be amazing to be selected for the blog. The magazine has cultivated a large following, and is chock full of savvy art world observations, artist interviews, and helpful career tips.

Next, I researched other grants for which I might be eligible. Prior to moving to Baltimore to become “the aunt/nanny,” I was represented by a gallery in New Orleans, and had had some success in receiving grants from Creative Capital and the Louisiana ArtWorks. One thing I’ve learned is that grantors and grantees are just like any other relationship- in a good one, both parties are fulfilling each other’s needs. Finding this “fit” requires time and research. A great place to start is the Artwork Archive's Complete Guide to 2020 Artist Grants and Opportunities. It lists many artist residencies as well. (However, because it is problematic to get time away my nieces and nephews, I generally just focus on grants)

Writing a grant, (or at least completing the requested information from the granting foundation) requires a fairly significant time investment for both artist and grantors- therefore, I do my best to make sure not only that I fall within the requirements of the grant, but withing the culture/aesthetics of the granting institution. Each granting institution is different, and aims at supporting a specific kind of art, artist, and/ or stage of an artist's career. Additionally, even though I may technically be eligible for a grant according to the guidelines, I always read the granting agency's mission statement, and review the list of past grantees, if available.

For example, at this point in my career, I would not apply for a large grant, or one that I know has been awarded to very well established artists. While a case could be made that I should pay the fee to apply, (usually about $35) in the hopes that the curators, grantors, decision- makers, and the like, might get to know my work, my strategy is to apply for smaller grants, in the hopes of actually receiving the grant- therefore building a stronger resume, or “pedigree,” as I once heard a gallery manager say. While I am not keen on comparing my art career to dog showing, I understood her point. Most grant giving organizations would like to see that another grant giving organization has deemed you acceptable before awarding a grant. As you may imagine, this can cause a rather frustrating chicken and egg scenario for artists- however, I am nothing if not hopeful. But I also do my research.

Additionally, I can divine the aesthetic taste of the organization, or jurors of the grant, by looking up the work of past grantees. If I see that the work of most of the past awardees is in no way similar to mine, I usually just move on. I like to operate under the belief that the world is big enough to support all kinds of art- however- I wouldn't consider it a valuable use of anyone's time, (or my application fee) to apply for a grant where I know my work just doesn't appear to “fit.”

Detail, “Hovering Parents” from my Votive Rabbit Wall Series. To see the full picture, and more of these wall pieces, please click on my Etsy page here

Lastly, I updated my website and Etsy pages. I had recently photographed a bunch of smaller pieces, but hadn't found the time to upload them yet...

So. How to keep the ball rolling? I'd like to take a bit of inspiration from Ekaterina Popova's letter, in which she reminded everyone of the healing power of art, especially in times of trouble. It's tempting to want to shut down when things become stressful, heck, even when there is a change to the routine. Focusing on negative things is like creative Kryptonite- my plan is to just stay engaged.

I brought some clay and tools over to my sister's house. Although the kids much prefer to be playing outside, playing video games, or doing perler beads, it's worth a try.

I can take advantage of all the new virtual tours of famous museums available now (Click here to link to a list of 12 world famous museums, or discover your own- you can even virtual tour the Vatican Museum!)

One from my Votive Rabbit series of architectural tiles, to see more, please visit my Etsy page here

I can read articles about ceramics in the artworld (I just read one here from Artling- in which a resident of the Baltimore Clayworks, our very own HaeWon Soon, is listed as one of the 13 ceramic artists changing the face of the art world!)

I can interact with other artist friends on instagram, and show them some support by liking and commenting on their posts.

I can continue to make my work- just small enough that it can be expeditiously cleaned off my sister's kitchen table, and hardy enough to withstand a trip in the car to be fired at the studio when the time comes.

One from my Venus of Willendorf series- I made a variety of Venus pieces for the Women of the World festival- to see this and more Venus works, please click on my Etsy page here

And so, dear reader, I hope that this account provided some resources that you may enjoy as you craft your own time away from your daily routine. We are, each of us, searching for new ways in which to be of service to ourselves, our families, and our communities. I'll be thinking of you, and wishing you all my best, Eileen.

Printing "The Three Sisters" - or, How I Made This: Fun with Speedball Linocuts

Dear friends, when we last convened, you were kind enough to read “Baltimore Clayworks offers a dazzling variety of work in Keystone Clay: West exhibition- My review and "digging deeper" into the work of Andrew Castaneda.”

This week, in order to fulfill the plan I set out for myself in the beginning of the year, I created a linocut print with my new Speedball Super Value Block Printing Starter Kit.

I wanted to explore the idea of the votive rabbits a bit more, but in a new way- one that, frankly, was less time consuming than making sculptures, but which still allowed me to (literally) dig into the material. (Click here to read more about my votive rabbits) It is this tactile quality, abundant in forms of printmaking like woodcut, or linocut, that I find particularly appealing.

“The Three Sisters” Clay, Glaze- another iteration of my votive rabbit series. This is a roughly 6 in. x 8 in. ceramic tile that can hang on the wall. I made a mold of my original, then created a few more- including a few that have backs so they can stand alone on a shelf or desk top.

Many famous sculptors have incorporated printmaking as part of their art practice: Picasso, Louise Bourgeois, Giacometti, Leonard Baskin, just to name a few. In addition to being a lot of fun, making prints has always been a way for artists to provide a less expensive, yet still handmade, piece of an artist's work. Also refreshing is the short turn-around time between carving a block, and creating a finished piece of art. While sculptures can easily demand months before they are finished, some prints can be created and executed within a day. Perhaps this immediacy is another reason why printmaking has been particularly appealing to sculptors.

More versions of my votive rabbits. “The Wedding Party” These are freestanding clay sculptures that also function as incense burners.

Before getting started on my own design, I thought it would be a good idea to revisit the work of some of my favorite printmakers. Gathering inspiration is the first step in my creative process. While I knew that my print would be an image of one or more of my votive rabbit figures, I wasn’t quite sure how I would compose the figures within the space, or “frame” of the block. I also wanted to look at examples of the types of line and textures great printmakers create to define areas of light and dark.

Detail, “The Wedding Party”

Step 1: Gather inspiration

The works of Kathe Kollwitz are masterful examples of composition, and of using light to define a form. In her powerful woodcuts, Kollwitz places her figures within the frame for maximum emotional impact. She is acutely aware of the path the viewer’s eye will take, and has even manipulated the space around the figures in such a way as to express their innermost being.

In “Hunger,“ the gaunt figures seem to have just passed through a brief moment of light from within a swallowing dark- we have this one chance to witness their horror before they disappear again into nothingness.

“Hunger” by Kathe Kollwitz, woodcut

In “Frontal Self Portrait “ we see an entirely different use of the figure in space. Here, Kollwitz has placed the face so large within the frame as to make it monumental. The effect is of a serene confidence- placid but unmoving- a woman who has navigated the shoals of life, and through their lessons has become a rock herself. (For an interesting sculptural reference, See Olmec colossal head)

“Frontal Self Portrait” by Kathe Kollwitz, woodcut

Kollwitz portrays the quality of light in both of these prints in different ways as well. In “Hunger,” she draws the effect of a single, but powerful, overhead light onto the figure of the little girl. The form of the little girl is broken down into the most extreme abstract shapes of light and dark, emphasizing the desperation in her eyes, and this precarious moment in which she is suspended between life and death. The other figures are nearly disembodied by the blackness, rimmed by the light from a distant window. The hand that clutches the man’s throat could be his own, but could just as well be the hand of starvation, reaching up to collect him.

In “Frontal Self Portrait,” Kollwitz draws the effect of two diffused light sources, one overhead, and one to the viewer’s left, to show us, in great detail, her careworn face. The marks she created here to portray her face are more subtle and nuanced than in “Hunger.“ These marks overlap and create many layers of texture, appropriate for describing the many years that have been written upon her face.

Lastly, I really appreciated Kollwitz’s ability to break down light and dark into rather sculptural shapes, as well as the way she distorted traditional proportions of her figures for emotional impact.

Stage 2

Sketching my design

My initial sketch of “The Three Sisters” I changed the design a bit because I wanted the composition to be a bit more dynamic. In the initial sketch, all three figures are front and center in the frame, and create a stable (triangular) composition.

While I am no Kathe Kollwitz, I can still aspire to utilize some of her techniques in my own work. For my linocut, I wanted an image with three votive rabbits within the space of the frame. I’ve drawn my votive rabbits many times onto clay tiles, but all have been much larger than the 4 inch by 6 inch block included in the kit. Another important consideration in sketching my design is the fact that all of the marks I make onto the block will appear white. My votive rabbit figures rely on a rather simple gestural outline- that means I have to cut around everything else other than the (rather thin!) lines that describe the figure.

Stage 3

Carving

While I was familiar with how to create a linoleum cut from my school days, the kit came with a new kind of carving block that I had never used before. The 4 x 6 “speedy carve” block was pink and floppy, and felt like a pencil eraser. Would it be better than the old style block? The Speedball Starter Kit also came with a linoleum cutter with three interchangeable cutting tips. The tips are made of metal, and have a “v” shape. The widest “v” tip can carve out large swathes of linoleum. There is a more narrow “medium” sized cutting tip, and lastly, the small, the most shallow and narrow of the three.

The Speedball lino cutter. The bottom of the handle serves as a handy carrying case for the cutting bits. I did not know this, (there were no directions in the box), and I almost went back to the store before I realized that I could unscrew the bottom of the handle!

I used the back of the “speedy carve” block for a test carve. The cutter ran through the block like butter. It was amazing how smooth and easy it was- not at all like the exercise in blood letting that cutting through the old linoleum blocks were!

Step 3

Preparing the paper to print

I’d purchased a lovely sheet of traditional printmaking paper from the art store. It had a creamy, beige color, a soft texture, and the edges were beautifully frayed. It only came in a large size, roughly 24” x 36,” so I knew I would have to re-cut the piece so that my 4 in. x 6 in. print would have an appropriate border. If I were doing a very complex print, I would have either selected, or made, a piece of paper that would offer the right sized border for my print. “Cutting” a piece of handmade paper doesn’t involve scissors. In order to approximate the look of the frayed edges on one side of the sheet, I used a ruler to tear the sheet into smaller pieces. I then rubbed my fingers along the edges I had torn to fray them a bit more, so that they would match the frayed edge from the original sheet.

Step 4

Inking

The kit came with a small tube of water based black ink, and a brayer. The brayer looks like a small rolling pin attached to a handle, but it is an important tool in making a successful print. It helps to spread the ink out evenly over the surface of the block, so that there will be no blobs of ink that will sink into the carved areas. This is important since these carved areas will appear white, or the color of your paper. Too much ink here could potentially bleed into the recessed areas of your block, and ruin your design.

The kit did not have an ink plate- (just a plate that you can spread the ink out upon), so I used an old plastic clipboard. I spread a bead of ink on the clipboard, then rolled the brayer back and forth over it until there was ink all over the brayer. I knew I had loaded enough ink onto the brayer when it made a tacky sound- (see vid!) and the ink formed tiny ridges on the plate.

Then I rolled the brayer onto the surface of the block, several times, in both vertical and horizontal directions. When it seemed like there was an even layer of ink on the block, I placed the brayer back on the ink plate, and picked up my paper. Carefully, I positioned the paper over the block, and then gently rubbed the pad of my fingertip over the surface. (There is a tool called a burren that is traditionally used for smoothing the paper over the carving block, but I do not have one, and my fingertip would just have to suffice.) The goal here was to make sure that the paper came into contact with all of the surface areas of the block, and that there was a good transfer of ink to the paper.

Numbering and signing my print…

Step 5

Pulling the print- the Trial Proof, the Artist’s Proof

After smoothing my finger over all the areas of my design, I began to gently pull the paper off of the block, checking for any areas that did not pick up enough ink. I found a corner that I must not have pressed; the ink looked a bit lean and spotty where it should have been completely black. Because I hadn’t pulled the paper off all at once, I was able to roll the paper back down on the block, and press those areas again. After pressing again, I pulled the paper off and - success! There was a great transfer of ink to the paper. I set the newly made print aside to dry on my table.

This first print, or trial proof, is the first time an artist gets to see what the print really looks like. After inspecting their proof, sometimes artists will make adjustments to the design. After looking at my proof, I found that there was a small area near one of the rabbit’s ears that picked up a bit too much ink. I went back into the block with the smallest gauge cutter, and removed a bit more.

After a few more adjustments, I decided I was satisfied with the design. I then made an “artist’s proof.” The artist’s proof, usually labeled “AP,” is the standard by which all the other subsequent prints of that particular design are evaluated.

Step 6

Printing Multiples

Even though there is potential to do a large number of prints with this process, most fine artists make a limited number, usually under 100. After the 100th print is made, the block is “retired.” Some print studios will even strike the block, that is, to make a slash mark against the design, to prevent the block from being used again. While this may sound dramatic, there are several reasons for making these limited runs. One is to protect the quality of the artist’s work. Linoleum blocks, like other types of printing plates, will eventually start to wear down with use. This can affect the sharpness of the image, or the richness of the dark areas, and result in a print of inferior quality. Another is to protect the value of the prints themselves. While prints are often offered as an affordable option for collecting a piece of an artist’s work, making an unlimited number of prints would devalue their worth. I decided that I would do a “run” of 25 prints.

*Just a quick note about the “Speedy Carve” block. While the Speedy Carve block is super easy to use, it does have the downside of not being as durable as the traditional linoleum block, which is mounted on a thick piece of particle board. How many great prints can one make on the “Speedy Carve” block before the image starts to degrade? Not sure. But it seemed to work just fine for my small run.

The finished product

Step 7

Numbering and signing your print

Traditionally, prints are numbered and signed in pencil at the bottom of the image. Why pencil? I haven’t discovered any clear answer. However, some of my professors have said it is less distracting than an ink signature. Others do not sign their prints at all, but work their artist’s mark, or signature into the design of the print.

Since I am making a run of 25 prints, the first print after my artist’s proof is written as 1/25, the second is 2/25, etc. This is written just below the image, in the left hand corner. This lets the viewer know that this particular print is one of 25 made. I’ve written the title in the center, and signed my name on the right.

AND…

On to the next challenge!

I will probably do a few more linocuts in the coming weeks, but I wanted to mention that the linocut is just a small corner of the metropolis that is “Printmaking.” Etching, engraving, collograph, woodcut, lithography, screenprinting, aquatint… these are just a few categories of printmaking for you to discover! The techniques used can be as varied as the artists who use them, and the possibilities really are endless.

Shamrock-aggedon: A St. Padraic’s Day Accounting: or "Tree Monts from the Outset"

Dear Friends, when we last convened, you were kind enough to read “Who inspires you? Baltimore Clayworks shows the work of Educators and Innovators - My review and the powerful art of Kimberly Canfield”  Today, on this most auspicious of days, as the bright green clover peeps through the damp and and darkish earth, I would like to share an accounting of my progress of the last three months.

In January, I laid out a plan of action designed to increase my productivity as an artist, and member of the art community.  I endeavored to design an aspirational, yet achievable plan that I might return to during my occasional bouts of directionless wandering.  In the tradition of the sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I am performing a self examination. In it, I will be grading the goals I set out in my post “The 11 month plan, “Kondoing” the studio, and Festina Lente.”  Each goal for this first quarter will be judged as a “pass,” or “eternal shame.” All in good fun, I assure you, but no need here for graphs, colored pencils, and most of all, excuses!

January goals:

PASS! -  “Research and apply for grants and shows that may be receptive to my work. (I find a lot of information about these opportunities on the Bmore Art “Calls for Entry” page)”  I applied to the ArchEnemy Fine Arts Open Call, but was rejected. I did additional research for quite a few grants and galleries, but I talked myself out of applying, mostly because, (if I’m supposed to be totally honest here) I decided not to pay the $30 a pop entry fees)

PASS!-  “Make a high-relief press mold of my votive rabbits to “mass produce.” Experiment with versions that hang on the wall, and that would stand upright on a table.” Done!  

PASS!- “Continue construction of large clay slit gong (approx. 4 ft”) to add to body of work shown at Clayworks in Fall of 2018”

PASS! -Continue teaching at Baltimore Clayworks

Style goals- Gandalf on the Misty Mountain

February goals:

ETERNAL SHAME -”Make a linocut of votive rabbits and print a small run on high quality paper.”  I bought the linoleum block, and even a brand new Speedball ink set, but have not finished the print

ETERNAL SHAME - ”Complete construction of large clay slit gong.” I’d say we are about ¾ of the way completed

PASS! - ”Research images and references for new series of “identity shields”- 8 to 12 clay shields that can be worn, and will be able to hang on a wall.  These shields will bear the marks of battle, and be adorned with faces and reminders of one’s identity” I actually have one shield ready to bisque!

PASS! - ”Research galleries in Phila for show of shields for 2020” I’ve had my eye on the Paradigm Gallery, as well as the gallery at The Clay Studio.  

PASS! - “Find community meeting to attend. - get out and about!” I attended  BmoreArt’s “Connect + Collect” (Click here to read my review) I also attended several exhibitions, and some meetings at the Baltimore Clayworks

“Did you do this?” Patrick, as remembered by his Irish Wolfhound, Ceann

March goals:

ETERNAL SHAME - “Make small face and mask studies in preparation for large faces on the front of the identity shields.” I’ve made one mask, but one mask does not constitute a “study.”

ETERNAL SHAME (sort of)  - ”Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage” Decided to pass on this month’s market in favor of the Baltimore Faerie Fest on April 13th. Have yet to pay the booth fee.

PASS! - ”Research and attempt to meet with artist with similar tone of work, to learn how they moved forward, and steps that I can take that I may be missing.” I’ve met several already through my gallery jaunts- learned that I should try to do an artist’s residency.

PASS! -”Find community meeting to attend.”  Attended the closing reception for “Keystone Clay: East” and discovered the work of a wonderful new artist.  (Click here to read my review)

As we come to the close of this quarter’s self assessment, I am reminded of the green card stock report cards we used to get in school.  At the bottom of each card was a space, about four and a half inches wide, and half an inch tall, labeled “teacher comments” It was always the first thing I looked for- just hoping to read something nice that might take the sting out of the rest of it. While I won’t be making any self complimentary remarks here, I did want to include a note on a new project I’ve started that wasn’t part of my initial goals.  

This weekend I will be interviewing my first guest on “Art + Whiskey,” a new podcast/ youtube series.  In it, I will be talking and drinking whiskey with artists and curators about creativity, the business of art, and best practices for artists.  I am also hoping that we can delve deeply into the content of these artists’ works, and how working as an artist creates a context for being in a larger world.  In this way I am hoping to fulfill the tagline of the project, “Drinking with Meaning.”

While self-assessments are never fun, I am grateful to the sisters for teaching me their version of this process, as well as instilling a healthy fear of self delusion.  Making this accounting of the places where I’ve failed to live up to my own expectations has given me fresh motivation to get things done. It also feels like a “mini New Year” in a way.  After making this assessment, I can let go of the failures of the past, and simply move them forward into the “to do” column. Luckily, with 14 days left in the month of March, I still have a little time to chip away at some of my eternal shame!

Who inspires you? Baltimore Clayworks shows the work of Educators and Innovators - My review and the powerful art of Kimberly Canfield

Dear Friends, when we last convened, you were kind enough to read “Mom, Hokusai and the Purple Potatoes, or Printmaking - the Reese’s Cup of the Art World,” in which I remembered our mom teaching us how to make prints by carving up potatoes and dipping them into paint.

Today I wanted to share with you the some thoughts about a really novel art show I visited at the Baltimore Clayworks over the weekend. “Keystone Clay: East” features the work of ceramic art professors and their students, side by side. All of the ceramic artists are from eastern Pennsylvania colleges and universities, such as West Chester University, Moore College of Art and Design, Millersville, Tyler, and Philadelphia University of the Arts. This intriguing idea for a show came from exhibitions director Mary Cloonan, who wanted to highlight the relationship between teacher and student, education and innovation.

I loved this exhibition. It was exciting to see the work, all of which was incredibly varied, and of exceptional skill and content. In her choice of pieces, Cloonan was also educating the viewer about the diverse ways in which artists can create with clay. Among the sculptural works were pieces that bridged the genres of abstraction, hyper-realism, conceptual, and narrative. Of the functional pieces presented, there were clear references to the work of Picasso, pop-surrealism, and American craft ceramics.

“Mama Fretelli” by Charlie Cunningham, Clay, Enamel and Synthetic Pearl Necklace

Is “The Goonies” your favorite film? It’s one of mine! (And I actually got to see the Goonies’ house!)

As a maker of clay things myself, I also found the exhibition very instructive. I was inspired by Rachel Sturino’s unique approach to combining clay and other materials, such as tape and plastic, in her piece, “Tools, Toys.” Also exciting were Jerry Kaba’s recordings of the sounds and “ooziness” of clay, which highlighted the materiality of the clay, but also seemed to treat the clay like a living being, as if it were an exotic species in the wild, its call preserved for posterity.

“Divvy” by Deborah Sigel, Egyptian Paste and Steel

One of my favorite pieces was from Kimberly Canfield, studio tech at West Chester University, and creator of “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier.” On a white pedestal, just inches above the floor, Canfield has placed the scorched clay figure of a small girl, perhaps 3 or 4 years old. Her skin is a mottled reddish brown and carbon black, and her head is bald, as if her hair has been burned away. She sits with her head bowed, and her knees drawn up toward her chest, like she has just been scolded.

Even more shocking to see is that the little figure has no arms - where her arms might have joined her torso are gaping holes, rimmed in clay. The openings remind me of the kind of sockets that would accept a ball joint- like on a Barbie doll. Were her arms lost in the fire? Or torn away through hard play before it began? Or perhaps removed?

On her legs are horizontal gashes. Some are deep, and still open, while others appear to have closed in healing. They look like the kind of cuts that one makes to themselves, the kind labeled as “self- harm.” Is this why her arms have been removed?

She wears a fresh white tunic. After the fire, either she, or someone who loves her, dressed her again in clean clothes. I crouched down on the floor to see the figure’s expression. Her face, exquisitely modeled, was caught in a moment between rage and despair. And underneath it all was contempt- contempt for herself? Contempt for the one who took her arms? Or even contempt for us, the viewer, for the humiliation of seeing her this way?

The title of the piece, “ Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier“ indicates a relationship with another person, and also with a larger group, such as a family. It is the pithy version of something a frustrated parent might say to a “problem” family member. The parent, struggling to help, but who can’t seem to “get through,” is at odds with the child, who has isolated herself, and is not in control of the behavior causing the issue.

At the same time, the title can also refer to parts of oneself. Here, the self seems to be split in two- with the little girl, or “inner child,” representing the part of oneself that battles with self-destructive behavior or addiction, and the part that wants to stop. We do not see this other “adult” self, but its presence and intent is made clear by the white tunic and by the fact that the child’s arms have been removed, presumably to stop her from cutting (or burning) herself. The irony here is that the efforts of the “adult” self to stop the self-harming behavior are just as violent and destructive.

Detail, “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier,” by Kimberly Canfield, Earthenware and Linens

“Xavier” is perhaps a reference personal to the artist. The name means “new house” in Basque, but is probably more recognized from the Jesuit missionary, St. Francis Xavier. Is the artist invoking the saint for help? “Xavier” also sounds quite a bit like “savior.”

This powerful piece shows us, with a great deal of honesty, the complexities of dealing with coping mechanisms that have become out of one’s control. But it also points to the challenge of existing in a chaotic world. We all have ways of navigating through the world that make life a little easier, at least for a time. The artist’s perspective, though, is not without hope.The little girl is indeed ravaged, but her white tunic becomes a symbol of the love that she, or someone else, still has for her. By creating this sculpture, the artist elevates, and makes beautiful, the struggle to continue living.

Detail, “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier,” by Kimberly Canfield, Earthenware and Linens

Baltimore Clayworks will be hosting another exhibition of works by teachers and their students, this time from ceramic programs in Western Pennsylvania. “Keystone Clay: West” will run from March 16th to May 11th, 2019. There will be also be an opening reception on Saturday, March 16th from 6-8pm. I’ll be sure to see what I know will be another stunning and thought provoking exhibition. And I hope I’ll see you there!

Mom, Hokusai and the Purple Potatoes... or Printmaking - the Reese’s Cup of the Art World

Dear friends, when last we convened, you were kind enough to read “What's a targe? And why does it have a “bouche? Or Researching for Meaning.” In it, I shared the results of some research I've been doing for my new shield series and exploring the ways in which this defensive weaponry both asserts and protects identity.

Today, however, I would like to take a detour into an art form that bridges the gap between the second and third dimension- (cue spooky music...) printmaking! No Dr. Who, or H. G. Wells needed- just a desire to take a three dimensional object, smear it with some ink, and smush it onto paper. The results can be revelatory. The tiniest details, often overlooked by the naked eye, can be brought to life through this transferring of ink to paper. I first experienced this in 7th grade, when my Mom brought in some potatoes for us to carve and use as stamps. Our school didn’t have an art program, so she and a few of the other moms took turns teaching us about the work of famous painters, sculptors, printmakers. Growing up in Philadelphia, we even learned about Paul Revere as a master silversmith... and patriot.

The potatoes were part of a lesson on Hokusai, probably the best known of the Japanese woodblock printmakers of the 19th century. As part of our local library’s “Art in Schools” program, my mother was able to check out reproductions of works by Hokusai, and other famous artists.

It’s hard to convey the sense of excitement my classmates and I had whenever we were allowed to do something- anything - outside of our normal routine. Days and weeks would pass in practiced and perfected tedium.

In my mind’s eye, I can still replay the moment my mother placed the large print of The Great Wave off Kanagawa on an easel in front of the classroom. A gigantic wave, alive and roiling, towers over two fishing boats. The fishermen cower under the crest of the wave, which Hokusai has drawn to look like a claw, ready to crush the men and their insignificant vessels.

Speaking of crushing, moments before my mother’s visit, Sr. Ambrose and Sr. Dolores Immaculate had spun a boa-constrictor like force field around our bodies. We were warned that were we to move one inch off our chairs, or make a distracting noise of any kind, we would immediately be sent down to Sr.Gabriel’s office, and would not be seen again. ( Can you sneeze in silence? I can- in complete silence.)

My mother explained that Hokusai’s print was made by carefully carving into blocks of wood, blotting them with ink, and then pressing them onto paper. She had brought in large russet brown potatoes so that we could all have a go at making our own version of a “wood block” print. With a knife that I recognized from our kitchen drawer at home, she sliced off a hunk of the bulbous tuber. Next, she scraped a fork over the white flat surface, and made deep grooves. Then, she poured a small amount of purple poster paint onto one of the dark green saucers we used for paperclips, and dipped the potato into the paint. When she brought it up and showed it to the class, we could see the purple paint clinging to the potato, and white stripes where she had dug the grooves. She pressed the potato several times onto a sheet of white paper. And there it was- a series of wobbly circles filled with purple and white stripes, each lighter in intensity than the last, until the image seemed to disappear. It was enthralling. And I couldn’t wait to try it.

With forks, knives, and spoons, we dug into, scraped away, and generally beat up our potatoes. Even Sr. Ambrose joined in. She drew Skull Mountain with the Garden of Gethsename around it in marker, and then printed three brown crosses on top. I remember making a bunch of shapes that kind of resembled tulips, and then drawing in the stems to make a flower patch. By the end of the session, our classroom smelled a bit like a brewery, and several of the boys had eaten their raw potatoes.

Today, even though I primarily work in clay, printmaking still holds a special fascination. And among all of the printmaking methods I’ve learned, (aquatint, monoprint, drypoint, et.al.) my favorite is arguably the most “simple.” Woodblock, linoleum cut, or potato - the kind of printing you can do by carving into an object, smearing it with ink, and smushing it onto some paper.

Recently I treated myself to a new Speedball Super Value Block Printing Starter Kit. It comes with a “speedy carve” block, a gouging tool with four interchangeable tips, a brayer, and a bottle of ink. The only thing the kit does not include is paper, which I purchased from the flat files at the Plaza art store. To begin, I chose one sheet of the “Masa,” a kind of rice paper that is meant to mimic the Japanese handmade paper traditionally used for printmaking. While I have nothing against potatoes, the basic Speedball tools and carving block are definitely an upgrade. The tools offer precision cuts, while the block readily accepts the ink, and is durable enough to withstand pressing out a large quantity of prints.

My plan is to do a run of votive rabbit prints. These prints will be inspired by the votive rabbits I’ve drawn onto my clay tiles, but I’m looking forward to taking a few liberties, and exploring this subject a bit more than I have thus far in clay. Printmaking holds several advantages over making things in clay, namely the speed at which one can produce a finished product, and the cost as well. With printmaking, I can carve an image and produce it multiple times within the space of an hour or two. The clay tiles I’ve made thus far are the result of a several week process; whereby I’ve created an original tile, cast it in plaster, and pressed wet clay into the mold to produce multiples. The tiles are then dried, fired in a kiln, hand painted and glazed, and fired again. I’d estimate that, in terms of my time, casting materials, and fees to fire the kiln, making the clay tiles are roughly twenty five- 30 times the cost of making a print.

The speed and relatively low cost of printmaking make it an excellent medium for experimentation. Hokusai himself often worked by creating variations on a theme. For example, The Great Wave off Kanagawa is but one print in a series entitled Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji. For me, printmaking is the perfect melding of three dimensional and two dimensional art- like the peanut butter and chocolate of the art world. I get the satisfaction of carving into an everyday object, and then placing it into a limitless imaginary world. If you’d like to try this fun and exciting art form, I can highly recommend the Speedball Starter Kit,- but, for the fun and pure pleasure of printmaking, you just can’t beat potatoes.

Not my first grade class, but a photo from my grade school’s website -Sr. Regina was still the principal when I arrived

What's a targe? And why does it have a "bouche?" or, Researching for Meaning

Dear friends, when last we convened, you were kind enough to read “What's up with the Warren? or Sumerian votive figures, patrons, and my thing about rabbits,” in which I detailed the inspirations for my rabbit votive figures.

This week, I am forging ahead with a new body of work! I am at perhaps the most critical stage of this process; that is, research and references.

Now, while that sounds about as exciting as a rainy Tuesday, let me assure you, dear reader, that it could not be farther from the truth!

Imagine yourself astride a painted white horse with a silver mane. It is late afternoon, and the sun, slanting through the leaves of the broad oak trees, gathers with the dark in dappled pools. To your left, a boisterous crowd, clad in purple and yellow sashes, gasps and falls silent. Sweat races down your forehead, but it is impossible to wipe it away without gouging your eyes out. Your hands are iron wrapped claws, strapped to shield and lance. Your body, your horse, your mind are just the meat of an impossible machine you must hurl forward. The sweat stings your eyes, and the world falls back into a sea of colors- green, purple, yellow and then… red. He has arrived. You look down to the back of your shield for the last time to Saint Christopher, protector of those about to die a violent death, and whisper a prayer. Horns! The Red Rider lowers his lance. The joust has begun.

Such was the story I heard from a 15th century German shield I came across while perusing the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s website. I am beginning a new series of ceramic shields, and am interested in the way armor simultaneously protects and asserts one’s identity. I also wanted to know more about how shields were carried, how they attached to the body, and how they looked when they were not in use.

This intriguing “targe” is one of “The Seven Shields of Behaim,” made to protect the body against the force of a lance during a joust. It has a concave shape, designed to accommodate the torso while on horseback. In the top left quadrant, a space has been cut out to fit the rider’s lance. This space, known as the “bouche,” (a French word for “mouth”) was on the rider’s right side. The body of the shield is made of wood and leather.

On the front of the shield, there is a young woman in green, posing with a rearing black goat. The goat’s hooves float to the right of the young woman’s face- the lower half of its body dissolves into yellow and black stylized flowers. In the foreground there is a yellow shield, adorned with the image of the top half of the rearing black goat. On the green lady’s right side is a scroll, inscribed with “HAB MYCH ALS ICH BIN,” German, for “Take me as I am.” There is evidence of additional words, possibly referring a motto at the time, “Take me as I am, thou false world.”

Shields such as this were decorated with a family’s coat of arms, mottoes, and other meaningful symbols. Interestingly, the shield of the vanquished jouster was sometimes relinquished to the victor. When this happened, the new owner of the shield would either add their own coat of arms and symbols to the existing design, or even partially or completely cover the earlier painting. In this way, the shield became of record of the families involved in the tournaments. As tournaments fell out of style, the shields, with their many layers of paint, were revered as emblems of a family’s standing within a community. They were retired and hung flat upon walls and on ceilings.

I wanted to make my own set of shields as a way to explore my identity, especially in relation to the I was raised in, and the cultural expectations I served. My previous work with the votive rabbits touches upon this concept, but in a quiet and introspective way. The votive rabbit sculptures are all shown with arms protecting their sacred space: the best part of who they are. In this new series of shields, I am recalling my own battles with a larger world.

It was inspiring to read the scroll upon the 15th century targe, “Take me as I am.” As usual, I find that artists before me have encountered problems not unlike the ones I deal with today. I especially appreciate the sentiment behind this motto. I can imagine the person who lived by it to be rather forthright- pragmatic, but at the the same time putting the world on notice that they will not be swayed by its demands. The meaning of the motto fits perfectly with the function of the shield to both protect and assert the rider’s identity.

The images on the shield itself seem to assert this idea as well. In a rather “meta” way, the goat depicted on the shield next to the green lady, is then also depicted on the yellow shield in front of her. The artist has placed the top goat on equal, if not superior, placement to the woman in the frame. By placing the same image upon the yellow shield, the artist is letting us know that the identity of the family is a strength.

So why make a series of defensive weapons out of clay? Clay shields would surely shatter upon the first strike of any lance. However, I like this idea of the fragile nature of our identities. We build them up, only to have them be broken. And they probably should be broken. Challenges to who we believe we are help us to evolve (hopefully) into better people. Like the painted shield that bears the marks of each successive battle, we are essentially the same form, but continuously remade by our experiences.

I have the first shield nearly finished, and am planning about eight or so more. If you find the ideas behind the targe fascinating, as I do, you can read more about it in Helmut Nickel’s article, "The Seven Shields of Behaim: New Evidence": Metropolitan Museum Journal, v. 30 (1995). (Click here for a link to the Museum’s website, where you can download the article.) Nickel also details the challenges of restoring the shields. On a shield that has been painted many times over, with each successive layer representing an important historical period, which layer should be kept, and presented to the public as “restored?” The art restorers were faced with many thought-provoking (and sometimes maddening) choices!

What's up with the Warren? or Sumerian votive figures, patrons, and my thing about rabbits

When last we convened dear reader, you were kind enough to read my thoughts about art and collecting in “Bmore Out and About: my evening at Connect+Collect at the Motor House.” After the discussion, the event concluded with an opportunity for artists and art collectors to socialize. While enjoying a delicious whiskey concoction from the Showroom Bar, I was delighted to meet one of the patrons. He took one look at my card and remarked- “You have a thing for rabbits, don't you?

Suddenly I could see him imagining what he thought my home must look like- the walls covered in pink bunny wallpaper, every square inch festooned in collectible rabbit figurines, soft green carpets like a bed of tasty grass...and me, featured on CBS’s Sunday Morning in the “quirky people” report, where Mo Rocca marvels in hushed tones “Look at these people! They’re crazier that you!”

No, dear reader, I wouldn't say I have a thing for rabbits at all.

I started to explain to the gentleman that the shape and gesture of the rabbits were inspired by ancient Sumerian votive figures, that their functionality has deep resonance in my own art practice, that I feel a connection to the artists who created the figures from so long ago...

The patron smiled and nodded knowingly.

“Care for another drink? he asked.

Me: (Sigh)

And therein lies the humor in attempting to explain the origins and social relevance of your art in a crowded bar.

The following is an attempt to clarify the message I convey to others about the body of work that I have come to call “the warren.”

Last year I started making small rabbit sculptures, which also functioned as incense burners. I had come up with the idea after researching some ancient sculptures to share with my Handbuilding with Clay students. I hadn't seen the Sumerian votive figures since my first art history class in art school. Back then I saw them as oddly funny, somewhat creepy versions of the “Sound of Music” singers. With their stiff posture, tightly clasped hands, and inordinately large eyes, they appear eager, ever watchful, and awaiting your next command.

Upon further research, I read that the ancient Sumerians built small, one room temples to house their gods and goddesses. The temples were quite literally regarded as the dwelling place of the god or goddess on earth, and, as such, only an elite group of clergy would be allowed to enter to perform rituals, or service the gods’ needs. Barred from entering, well heeled worshippers commissioned figures to act as the physical representations of themselves in the temple. The artists who created these figures chose to represent the devotion of the worshippers by posing them in a gesture of perpetual readiness. Eyes wide, almost cartoonish, (think of Scrooge McDuck when he sees a pile of cash) they want only to bask in the gaze of their deity.

The idea of these representational devotional figures is very familiar to me. Growing up in the Catholic Church, I was surrounded by images of worshippers in poses of adoration. Stained glass windows, paintings, and sculptures lined the walls and halls of the church and school I attended.

I pondered. What if I were to turn this idea of devotion inside out? What if the sacred space were within? Where the deity resides inside the figure, indeed is the figure?

I altered the gesture of the Sumerian figure from one of servitude, to one of reverence and protection. One viewer remarked that it is similar to the gesture that one makes in the “holding the ball” form in Tai Chi. While the gesture of the rabbits was not derived from Tai Chi, it is a fitting comparison. Tai Chi practitioners focus their energy with the intent of moving and balancing it, (and themselves,) within a space. This energy could also be described as one’s essence, or life force.

Detail, “The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze.

I changed the figure from a human form into a kind of rabbit/ human hybrid. I wanted my subject to be as close to the natural world as possible. I chose rabbits because of their iconic and complex history in many cultures, and because of their exaggerated eyes and ears. All rabbits have the eyes of prey- that is, they are situated on either side of their skulls so that they can see a predator coming from nearly all sides. I positioned the eyes of my rabbit figures to face a bit more forward. I wanted them to come across as autonomous- powerful and independent actors in their own lives. At the same time, each has within them a hollow- one that harkens back to home, to self, to a tender space that needs protection.

I made a space in the back of each figure for a cone of incense to be lit. The smoke from a lit cone of incense floats up into, and curls around the figure. A small wisp comes out of the hollow the rabbit caresses. While rabbits have no need for ritual, it is a human act of remembrance and honor to light a candle, or burn incense. I wanted my hybrid figures to be functional in this way, to tie them to their beginnings as servants, but also to remember their own connection to the sacred within themselves and others,

Detail, “The Wedding Party”

Before I knew it, I had made 10 figures, and was still in the process of making more.

“Your rabbits are multiplying.” said my studio mate. She was curious to know how many I had planned on making, and possibly to see if I would continue to clutter up the studio with all of their bunny parts. I hadn't planned on anything, really, but answered, “At least a few more.” and then blurted out “And then I'm gonna make a giant one!”

“Hmmm.” she nodded.

“The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze

And so began my “warren.” Since then, I did indeed make a giant votive bunny, as well as quite a few more small rabbits, a medium sized rabbit-urn, a dozen or so clay “paintings” and several rabbit tiles.

After building so many of the three dimensional rabbits, I yearned for immediacy that drawing provides.

I remembered how Patty Bilbro, one of the talented resident artists at the Baltimore Clayworks, drew onto the surface of each of the vessels she created. I loved the gesture and freshness of her figures, and wanted to see if I could create that same spontaneity by drawing into the clay itself - somewhere between a sunken relief tile and an etching. Soon I had made quite a few of these sketches in clay, and the story of the rabbits evolved further. They started to appear in family groups. Some were caught in the middle of arguments. Others were captured in a quiet moment of reflection. There were wedding portraits

Earthenware plate, by Patti Bilbro, 2018. Check out more of Patty’s work here

“The Family” Clay, underglaze, glaze

“The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze

Today I am still experimenting with this method of exploring the subjects of “the warren.” Not sure how many more I will make, but the thoughts and ideas behind the rabbits continue to hold intrigue for me.

So. Now that I’ve had a chance to explain myself- I’d like to ask you a question, and I’d like an honest answer.

So, here goes…

“Do you think I have a thing for rabbits?”

Monumental Votive Rabbit, Clay, paint, H 36 in. x W 14 in. x D 16 in.

“The New Year's Gift, or “Sometimes a Nuisance can lead to a Minor Epiphany”

“Jesus, P___, You’re going to get everyone sick!” screamed Fiona.  

Indeed, P___, ( whose identity here is withheld)  had arrived for our Christmas revelries with eyes rimmed with red, and green snots festooning every sleeve.  He lay on the break room couch, surrounded by a sprinkling of dirty snow colored tissues and several beers.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled.

And so began my strange and unexpected New Year’s gift, and the subject of this blog post.  

The day after Christmas I developed a fever. As my body waffled between burning and freezing out the germs,  I lay in bed, dreaming that I was travelling to Panama, then to an iceberg with penguins, then Madagascar, then the Swiss Alps….For the next three days,  I watched Netflix, re-read Sherlock Holmes stories, and snacked on the occasional piece of Christmas chocolate.

I truly can’t remember the last time I did “nothing” for three days.  I imagine that not many other folks can either. Like myself, many of my artist friends have a regular job to make money, then spend as much time as humanly possible trying to “make it” in the art world.  

This leads to a feeling of never having enough time, especially to accomplish your artistic goals.  Even worse is the feeling of guilt when you do decide to occasionally spend time with friends. Shouldn’t you be spending every possible minute working  to become a master of your medium, to poetically convey the joy and mystery of the human condition, to conquer the business of art world in all its dark vagaries? (sigh)

Toward the end of the third day, I rose, Lazarus-like, and threw off my bed clothes.  Although still not fit to be out in public, I felt a (feverish?) desire to clean and rearrange the bedroom.  I had really been wanting to do this for weeks, but had always opted to go to the studio instead. Being sick gave me the perfect excuse to stay home.  And why not? I was lucky enough that my employer had taken some time off during the holiday. It would be now, or (possibly) never.

Fortified with a wee bit of “medicinal”  whiskey, I started with the ceiling. The cobwebs I had studied while lying in bed, under my illness induced delusion of being Sherlock Holmes, were dismantled with one swish of my broom.  I dusted the the trim around the windows, wiped off the blinds, and cleared off dresser. I rearranged the furniture into an attractive and easy to clean “U” shape, that made the room look two times bigger. Feeling warm from the whiskey and exercise, I gazed upon my half-completed room.  Suddenly my world seemed awash with possibility! With the ferocity of a machete wielding hunter, I dispatched anything that disturbed the new and unbroken horizon of my ordered universe.

When it was all done, I stood back and felt the peace and tranquility of walking into a bedroom that was clean and organized.  I couldn’t believe how good it felt, and how long I had been denying myself this basic comfort.

There are things in life that one knows intellectually - say, for example, that it is good to make one’s bed in the morning.  That a calm and uncluttered environment promotes calm and uncluttered thoughts. That, conversely, a dirty and disorganized environment produces anxious thoughts, and a feeling of insecurity.  It is quite another thing however, to know something “in your bones.”

My New Year’s gift, courtesy of P____  and some airborne illness, was the realization that how I lived at home reflected how I thought about myself in the world.  On some level I must have decided that a clean and lovely room was the mark of one who “had their act together.” Coming home to a sloppy room every night just reinforced the fact that I did not. It took three days of being confined to my room to realize this “in my bones.”  While I certainly did not relish being sick, I am sincerely grateful that I had the experience because it provoked in me a minor epiphany. What if I were to just settle in, and start organizing my space- like if I actually had my act together?  Yes, it would take some doing, but I could already feel the positive effects of having a clean bedroom.  What if every room became a place of calm and refuge?

The day after my minor epiphany I awoke with a fresh fever.  Clearly, the dust and exercise worked against the whiskey, proving too much for my defenses- but I didn’t care.  I watched an episode of Marie Kondo’s “Tidying Up” on Netflix, binged an entire season of Monty Don’s “Big Dreams, Small Spaces,” and made plans to organize the rest of the house.  

“Knowing in my bones” has become my personal euphemism for maturity.  I am hopeful that these fresh lessons will aid me in the inevitable challenges throughout this new year.  

Next up, the kitchen!

“Discovering the Deepest Mirror- Sleep” large clay tile from my 2018 show at the Baltimore Clayworks

“Discovering the Deepest Mirror- Awake”

“Discovering the Deepest Mirror - Aware”

New studio space? Yes, please!

Dear Friends, I've moved into a new studio!

I'll still be with all the amazing artists at the Baltimore Clayworks, but this new space is much larger than where I've been. It gives me the room to tackle some creative challenges I just can't wait to sink my teeth into!

Plans include a new series of "Wonderland" sculptures and wall pieces, as well as a run of tiles.  I'm making the tiles as a way to help support my larger work, and the cost of my studio. They'll be available soon on my website, as well as at one of the Greater Goods Markets at R House.

Lastly, I'm really looking forward to welcoming friends at my first "open studio" soon.  But for now, I've got to get working!

Mia Halton's Encounters

“For me, the encounter – being there- is the thing.”

On Saturday I visited the Creative Alliance to see Encounters, Baltimore artist Mia Halton's show of drawings, prints and sculpture. Much of the work was made during Halton's artist residency in Puebla, Mexico, an area known for its centuries old tradition of creating vibrantly colored pottery from its fine clay. Artists in Puebla still create in the “Talavera” style, and Halton worked side by side with the “artisanas” she met at the local pottery factory.

Mia Halton's Encounters, approx 15 long x 10 ft, high

Upon ascending the stairs to the second floor gallery, the first thing that struck me upon seeing the large, one room show were the drawings that Halton had made directly on the gallery walls. In Encounters, men, women and children float within the white space- some collected into tight groups, and others seemingly adrift, immersed in their own thoughts. Several figures within the groups look askance at people from different groups, their mouths open and eyebrows raised as if they are about to shout across a great expanse. A man and a woman from neighboring groups point directly at each other, suspended in what could be a heated argument. Playfully drawn in black paint upon an all white background, Halton has rendered her figures in an almost cartoon-like style. While the drawings may appear childlike, Halton's deft lines and engaging compositions are the mark of a confident draftsperson. Each of the simply drawn figures has the weight of an entirely unique personality; with a masterful eye for gesture, the artist is able to communicate the complexity and nuance of her characters in just a few strokes.

Detail, Encounters

Mounted on another wall are hundreds of small clay faces, which Halton has placed at intersections over a hand drawn map of the the Puebla area. In this piece, entitled Face to Face, the artist has etched faces on flat clay discs (approximately four inches long and three inches wide), in a comic style similar to her drawings. While her drawings exist only on a white background, here the artist has paid particular attention to the color of her clay faces, rendering them in various shades of brown, orange, pink, black and white. Halton has painted each of these faces individually, as if they could be representing a particular person she has met along her travels. Each wears a different expression- some seem enraged, others contemplative, some content. The artist does not specifically tell us the narrative behind each of these characters' expressions- the viewer is left to fill in the details for herself.

Face to Face, red earthenware with glaze

Rounding out the exhibition are several small sculptures, prints and drawings. One sculpture, entitled Whitening, is a grouping of six free-standing earthenware figures, each about 6 inches tall. The head and shoulders of each figure are covered with a white glaze. The rest of the body is unglazed, and shows the natural light orange hue of the Puebla clay. The figures do not interact with each other, and stand with their arms at their sides, eyes searching the horizon. Although they are standing together in a group, each figure seems in some way isolated, alone with their own thoughts.

Detail, Face to Face

Halton has rendered the figures in Whitening with such economy that the figures are just barely emerging from their blocks of clay. By emphasizing their substance, the artist seems to be suggesting that, at our most basic, we are all made of the the same earthy stuff. That each figure has been “whitened” from the top down however, suggests another, less tender meaning. The figures' bodies have been painted over- at least partially obscuring their “natural” or endemic color. It is in this way, before even considering the connotations of “whitening,” that the artist portrays the figures as people being acted upon. Halton seems to be asking us “What does it mean to be “whitened?” She has taken great care in detailing the varied skin tones of the clay faces in Face to Face. That all of the figures in Whitening have become one color suggests a universal or cultural phenomenon. Is Halton referencing a “white” culture, and its effects on the people of Puebla?

Whitening, Red Earthenware with Majolica, 6"x 4'x 2"  each

Another wall features Halton's smaller prints and drawings, such as Workin It Out, Four Encounters, and Did You Mean It? These pieces detail intimate moments in the labyrinth that is human interaction; they are spot-on snapshots of the awkward silence, the missed point, the misunderstood joke, the unheard complaint. In Workin It Out, two figures struggle to stay upright while occupying the same space on the ground. They hold each other in a tenuous “v” shape. In this piece, Halton gives us an icon for the demanding work of relationships- the ever shifting conditions, and quite literally the struggle to maintain balance.

Workin It Out, ink on paper 14 x 11"

Notably different than Halton's other pieces in the show is her black and white print Estoy Aqui, I Am Here. Here she has written “Estoy Aqui, I Am Here” several times in large, hand carved letters that run together. This piece feels more like the evidence of promise or ritual, almost like a blessing that would hang above a family fireplace. From the artist's statement we learn that this work speaks directly to the artist's intention during her residency in unfamiliar surroundings, where she was unable to communicate in Spanish. By committing to the work she shared with the artisanas, and by focusing on the commonality of their experiences, she was able to hurdle these obstacles toward meaningful interaction.

Did You Mean It? Ink on paper 14 x 11"

What I find really compelling about Halton's work is the sense of humor and optimism that she successfully portrays in her pieces. The viewer may recognize herself among these earnest characters, and smile at their self-absorbed foibles. However, Halton's work also portrays more serious issues: isolation, loneliness, frustration over not being heard or understood, rage against a another group of people, the insidious corruption of racism. Here Halton's humor has a deeper purpose: to offer a hopeful point of view, and to underscore the theme of the “Encounters” show. The theme that is, if one commits and perseveres through the difficulties and awkwardness that arise when people encounter differences in each other, the reward will be a deeper understanding of our common humanity.

Estay Aqui, I Am Here, relief print, 15" x 12"

In the first line of her artist statement, Halton writes “For me, the encounter – being there- is the thing.” Her show is the beautiful and poignant result of her dedication to this principle of “present-ness.” While it is easier said than done, Halton's work inspires me to not be so quick to “check out” - to be more mindful in my relationships, and in all of my new “encounters”

To see more of Mia Halton's work, check out her website here

Open Works- one local artist's impression of Baltimore's biggest Makerspace

Last Saturday I visited Open Works Baltimore, a 34,000 sq. ft. makerspace located in the Greenmount neighborhood. The mission of this non-profit facility is

                "to make tools, technology, the knowledge to use them accessible to all. We do this through low cost studio space, memberships, and classes." 

In the one year since it's been open, I've heard great things about Open Works from everyone in my local art community, but hadn't yet made it there to see for myself. Since the closing of the Baltimore Clayworks left me without a studio, I thought now might be the perfect time to check it out. However,  I have to admit that what really got me moving was a picture on Open Works' Instagram account. Someone had made a 3d printed bust of Ben Franklin, my hometown hero, in lightweight acrylic glory!  I had to see, (and feel) for myself.

Exterior, taken from parking lot

I called late on a Friday night and spoke with Deb, who spent lots of time answering my questions about Open Works. She encouraged me to take a tour and listed about 5 times during the week or weekend that I could come by- I really got the message that they want people to come and visit! I arrived at 11:30 the next morning and was delighted to find that Deb would be our tour guide. Also greeting me was the very bust of Ben himself. Set out upon the front desk was the notable maker and inventor, rendered in extraordinary detail. Deb saw me studying the intricate grain on Franklin's face. “I'll show you where that was made.” she said.

Ben's bust!

With a small group of 5, Deb started the tour in the spacious lobby, filled with comfy chairs, game tables and loungers.  All of the stylish (and comfortable) furnishings were made at Open Works' wood, metal, and digital fabrication shops! Deb explained that anything they need they can make with the Open Works facilities. She cited an example as recent as yesterday, where a speaker requested a podium for their presentation. Poof! - A stylish steel lectern was produced for the event.

The lobby- to the right is Greenmount Coffee

Deb asked each person in the group to introduce themselves and to say what they were interested in making. There was a young man interested in working in the metal shop so that he could gain experience for a welding career. A woman interested in the wood shop. A retired pipe fitter looking for a space to create. A high school administrator who had just stopped by for coffee at the newly opened Greenmount Coffee Lab, but decided to stay for the tour when Deb mentioned all the opportunities for students to learn at Open Works. And lastly, me – a clay sculptor set adrift, searching for new ways to keep creating.

Adjacent to the lobby is the stylish Greenmount Coffee Lab- a 100% employee owned coffee, tea and nosh shop run by the folks from Red Emma's. This space has large tables ( also made at OW, natch) to accommodate not only studio members, but anyone who wants to enjoy fair trade beverages, vegetarian and vegan treats, and free wi-fi.

Deb led us through the hall to 2 light filled and spacious classrooms. She explained that the classrooms serve a vital purpose in achieving Open Works' mission: to make tools, technology and the knowledge to use them accessible to all. Among the many classes offered are welding, woodworking, digital fabrication and sewing. The experienced teachers, who are makers themselves, can show you how to create your dream project. The classrooms, as well as the lobby, are also available to rent, and have thus far hosted community groups, a high school robotics competition, and a black tie fund raiser.

Next was the computer lab, where you can design to your heart's content on no less that 16 Dell precision work stations with ample 27 inch monitors. These computer stations are the first step in the design process for any maker wanting to create with the 3d printers, but can be used to facilitate all parts of the creation process. Open Works offers affordable “crash courses” on a variety of computer aided design programs, such as Rhino 3D and Adobe Illustrator.

Around the corner from the computer lab is the textile studio. During our tour we briefly interrupted a safety class on how to use the industrial sewing machines, but the teacher was happy to explain the project for the day. The class was full of adult students, each constructing a small pouch with a zipper. Deb explained what each of the machines did, from making the seam on the bottom of our t-shirts, to stitching leather and heavy fabrics, to fine embroidery. While I am a complete stranger to sewing machines, I left the studio with a new appreciation for the complexities of clothing construction. Deb also mentioned that several sculptors have used the textile studio to make large inflatable soft sculptures out of parachute-like material.

The digital media studio had me thinking about taking some Ansel Adams style photos of my very own. Those beautiful archival quality photos you see in galleries? You can print them here. Ever want to edit your own film? You can learn all about it at the Premier Pro class, and create at one of the well appointed work stations. Did I mention the vinyl cutter? You can print your own images or signs on vinyl- even that sticky kind that you can slap on the wall! Get ready to peel and stick, friends!

The electronics room was a bit of a mystery to me, but Deb explained that many of the components that the students use to make robots are made here. You might also build your own computer or 3d printer, repair an appliance, or make a kinetic sculpture for the next great Baltimore Kinetic Sculpture Race!

The wall of 3d printers!

I was really excited to see the 3d printing studio. Part of me was expecting to see something like “the replicator” from Star Trek, and indeed, the 3d printers are nothing short of amazing. Intricate sculptures, parts for mechanical prototypes, and even a human skull can be reproduced in lightweight acrylic. I was primarily interested in using the 3d printers for their sculptural possibilities, but their applications are endless. Builders of any kind can use the printers to make exact prototypes. Scientists can create models for experiments. Bio-medical professionals can make natural and comfortable prosthetics. Deb said that Open Works had recently hosted a lecture from a company that uses 3d printers to service clients from all of these areas, as well as in the the movie industry. To demonstrate, the speaker used a special camera to scan Deb's body from top to bottom, and created a 5 inch “mini-Deb” in perfect detail. While our group loved her “mini-me”, Deb did say it was a little weird to see yourself from the “outside.”

3d printed skull- the red shape in the back is actually a "Martian ray gun" standing on its barrel

One of the core principles of Open Works is that it is “open.” This idea is exemplified in the the studio spaces, which, while private, have 3 walls that rise to only about 4 ft, and look more like the stalls you might see in an open-air marketplace. This arrangement is meant to encourage community interaction, exchange of ideas, and innovation. The upstairs studio area is filled with light from large windows on 3 sides, and houses about 70 cubicles. Electric outlets are supplied to each 7 ft by 7 ft studio by a clever overhead drop down cord. Each of the studios comes with a locker at the end of the row. We saw evidence of work in progress from painters and sculptors of course, but also the work of craftspeople and small businesses. One small business had merged together a few studios, and were constructing super efficient, clean burning fire places. One craftsman's studio was filled with handmade wooden bowls and platters. Deb mentioned that, after attending the American Craft Fair that was held in Baltimore this past winter, his sales have skyrocketed.

A squadron of squirrels... Open Works has adopted the squirrel as its unofficial mascot!

The downstairs space hosts more studios, the wood shop, metal shop, spray painting room, and additional storage space. While the downstairs studio area didn't have as much natural light as the upstairs, it well lit and airy nonetheless. Proximity to the adjacent wood and metal shops are a real benefit here. Both the metal and wood shops had plenty of space, excellent dust collectors, and all the equipment one might expect. Of special note, however, were the plasma cutters in the metal shop, and laser cutters and CNC routers in the wood shop. These were the tools used to construct the aforementioned podium, along with the furniture in the lobby. There are computer stations by each of the cutters, where you can simply upload your design, and the cutters will set about executing all the parts with hair-splitting accuracy. It was mesmerizing to watch the CNC router “sculpting” a shape out of a large piece of resin. The artist, who was standing nearby wearing safety glasses and making an odd note or two in his sketchbook, had only to “supervise” the process.

The upstairs studio room- the yellow cords to the left are the drop down electric outlets

Currently there are about 250 members at Open Works. Members can use the upstairs facilities for $70 a month, downstairs for $90, or both for $125 a month. Have a special project or just want to check out the facilities for yourself? Get a day pass (12 hours) for $25. Studio spaces are $125- so, for a studio space and access to everything OW has to offer, it's $250 a month. Got a creative family? Get a $40 youth membership for your 16-18 year old, or spring for household membership and get discounts on multiple members. Discounted memberships are also available for those who display a financial need , and are part of Open Works' commitment to providing affordable access to all.

A studio

Now that Open Works has been up and running for a year, and with all of the amazing facilities available, I asked Deb if the space was crowded. Deb said that there is plenty of space for everyone, and that currently there are studios available. Open Works is open from 9 am to 9 pm, so there is lots of time to work on your project. I was also curious to know if there would be a wait to use the 3d printers, since larger projects can take a few hours to complete. I was relieved to hear Deb say that you can reserve time on the printers. Wonderful! I know it doesn't seem like a big deal to be able to reserve time on a machine that you would like to use- but most places I've worked at have been first come- first served. In the past, this insanity invoking practice has turned usually calm creators into nail-biting machine stalkers. Every 30 seconds, like cuckoos from a clock powered by cocaine, wide-eyed, yet painfully pleasant studio mates chirp “Are... are you done yet?” This inevitably results in lost time and productivity.

Our happy tour group!

The overall impression I got after leaving Open Works was extremely positive. The entire space was clean, calm, and peaceful. The makers we saw seemed happy to be there. There is a space for everything- including space to have a coffee, socialize, and relax. No one was wasting precious time circling crowded work stations like turkey vultures. No one was squabbling over tools, or safety gear. One notable drawback for me was the lack of any kilns or utility sinks for clay sculptors. Still, one would be hard-pressed to find a better equipped or well managed makerspace.

It was truly inspiring to see all of the things one can make,do and learn at Open Works. It reminded me of my time at art school, except for the fact that there was plenty of space, and all the equipment one might need. If Open Works had been around when it was time for me to go to college, I may have even skipped art school entirely.

This article was based upon my tour of Open Works with the incredibly knowledgeable and delightful Deb Jansen, member services associate, whose passion for creating is infectious. Thank you Deb!

Find out more about Open Works, as well as a full list of their facilities and classes, click here   

Don't miss these cool pics of projects made at Open Works  - click here to check out their Instagram page 

Sculptors exploring the inside out- Sara E. Morales- Morgan, Kukuli Velarde , and Adrian Arleo

What if all of the emotional and intellectual transformations we experience in our inner lives manifested themselves physically? Unable to hide what is surging or dying inside, what would we look like to others, and how would we communicate differently than we do in our cloaked forms?

This week I have been exploring this idea by searching out ceramic sculptors whose work shows the “inside out.” With clay and glaze, they communicate powerful emotions and psychological transformations. Much like a poet may capture a moment, idea, and image in a single word, these artists capture the complex inner lives of their subjects in a single sculpture.

"Day after Day" by Sara E. Morales- Morgan, porcelain with underglaze and glaze

Sara E. Morales-Morgan makes diminutive porcelain figures of women that, at first glance, resemble the kitschy ceramic mantlepiece decorations that became very popular in America in the 1940's and 50's. These idealized visions of feminine grace and beauty, often wearing the full length skirts and corsets from European aristocracy in ages past, were sought after symbols of refinement and culture to the growing middle class. While the shapes of this artist's wistful porcelain women may cause you to recall your grandmother's Hummels, make no mistake; Morales-Morgan's ladies pack a powerful punch. In “Day After Day,” three dark haired female torsos share a single skirt. One figure slumps forward, the second stands upright, and the third figure leans backward. Painted upon the skirt are three views from the inside of a home: through a window we see a blue sky, fluffy white clouds and neat green lawn, another is the same view at dusk or dawn, the third, a moonlit night. The artist seems to be representing the passage of time through the perspective of one woman in three different states of being. The gestures of the figures correspond with the rising, shining, and setting of the sun. It is this particular woman's view that we are seeing from the inside of her house- a house which also is an embodiment of her. She is prettily dressed with bows and neatly coiffed; her expressions are dreamy, almost doll-like. Morales-Morgan seems to be asking us to see the idealized women represented in this tradition of porcelain figures in a new way- from the perspective of the woman herself. To imagine the life of such a woman, not as a lovely figure to be gazed upon, but as a person stuck in the same routine, “day after day,” - unable to see the world from another perspective, unwilling to show any other expression, save the slight smile that would be pleasing to anyone who might see her.

Detail, "Day after Day," by Sara E. Morales- Morgan

Where Morales- Morgan's figures draw upon a post-war European tradition of ceramics, Kukuli Velarde's forms take inspiration from pre-Colombian vessels. In her “ Isichapuitu” series, Velarde explores many versions of the same figure, a very round, female and somewhat corpulent body, based upon an Huastecan artist's sculpture made 2000 years ago. As she explains in her artist statement, Velarde uses the figures to express different aspects of her own experiences, and has even given the figures faces that resemble her own. By manipulating the bodies, and through her use of color and additional figurative elements, Velarde offers the viewer a wide variety of self-portraits. While her titles, such as“Grief,” “Hope” or “Pity” point to a universal concept, her sculptures are at once personal, specific and incredibly nuanced.

"Censura" by Kukuli Velarde, Clay

In Censura, (“censored”) many hands cover the figure's face and body. Two fists grip the figure's wrists, and several others partially cover the mouth, nose and eyes, making the face appear disfigured. Completely covered are the figure's breasts and genitalia. From the title of the piece, the viewer can infer that the hands here represent the forces of censorship- restricting movement, sexuality, sight, smell and taste. What I find really compelling about this work is that Velarde has rendered these censoring hands with the same color “flesh” as the figure itself. She also sculpted them in low relief – giving us the impression that they are either emerging from or submerging into the body. It is as if the hands of the censors have become part of the body being censored. This seems to suggest the insidious effects of censorship over time- that, through the abuser's careful and continuous restriction, the censored begin to censor themselves. And yet, this image can be interpreted another way: that, even with the internalization of this abuse, the figure has transformed the outsider's hands into a shape and color that is more natural to itself- perhaps in the way that a working palm develops a callous, or the way the body's defenses surround a tumor. The abusers cannot dominate the figure without being changed themselves. This image resonates with much of Velarde's other bodies of work, in which she presents the tension between the indigenous cultures of her native Peru and those who tried to colonize it.

"Eve, Honey Comb," clay, glaze, wax encaustic, 50 x 17 x 12″

Adrian Arleo's “Eve, Honey Comb” is a near life-sized clay, glaze and wax encaustic sculpture of the biblical “first mother.” Eve's entire body, including the small rock plynth she stands upon, are modeled as if they were made entirely of honeycomb. Her naked body is riddled with cells in varying states- some are open, others appear to be partially or completely closed with wax. Her face appears forlorn, she looks to the side. Her gesture and expression are somewhat ambiguous. Could she be about to reach for something? Or has something she once held in her hand been taken away? The pale yellow finish on the sculpture, and the naturalism in which Arleo modeled each and every cell, begs us to touch and perhaps even taste. Might we be tempted to break off a piece to eat? By forming Eve out of a honey comb, Arleo asks us to consider the ideas of motherhood, creation, temptation, innocence, and sin. As mothers, women are both home and sustenance to their children, like the hive is to the bee. Conversely, perhaps Arleo is asking us to consider the mother-like qualities of bees, who create new life constantly in a diverse array of plants by pollinating. Consider also how Eve is being transformed with the wax covering of the cells- what will happen to her when they are all full? When they are emptied? She appears to be stopped in mid-gesture- will she solidify? Her expression seems to convey that she is not in harmony with this arrangement. Could Arleo be commenting on the hardships of birthing and fostering life? Or, is this Eve, once human, returning to nature as it was before the fall, before the knowledge of evil destroyed her innocence?

While Arleo, Morales-Morgan and Velarde take inspiration from different traditions and vary greatly in their visual style, each successfully creates images that embody the complex workings of our inner worlds. This is the work of the artist: to show us the world from their unique perspective, but to also embrace the and honor the commonality of our human experience. I feel that I am enriched as a person from having seen each of these artists' works, and will continue to seek out art that informs my understanding of others and their perspectives.

Ceramic Sculpture Culture

Last Thursday I attended a presentation by Ceramic Sculpture Culture, an artists' collective which works to promote the art of emerging sculptors creating narrative and figurative work in clay.  The collective's founders, Taylor Robenalt, Kevin Rhode, and Travis Winters, spoke to a full lecture hall of students, community members and faculty in the Arts Center of Towson University.  Mary Cloonan, exhibitions director at the Baltimore Clayworks, moderated the discussion following the presentation of the artists' work.   

"Can't Knock Me Down" by Travis Winters

Robenalt, Rhode, and Winters founded Ceramic Sculpture Culture in response to the challenges they faced building their artistic careers and selling their work after graduate school.   Each found the market for figurative ceramic work to be slim.  For marketing purposes, "ceramic" and "sculpture" have been two separate categories, and the idea of "ceramic sculpture" is a somehow unmarketable mix of each.  This points right to the "fine art" vs. "craft" distinction.   How is a gallerist to approach selling a work that, in content, is "fine art,"  but is made with a "craft" material such as clay?   To further complicate matters, many ceramic sculptors (myself included) reference traditional pottery forms in their work.  How are these pieces to be categorized for sale?  

Taylor Robenalt, from wallhangings series

After discussing their predicaments at last year's National Council on Education of the Ceramic Arts (NCECA)  Robenalt, Rhode and Winters decided to invite seven other ceramic sculptors to be part of a group to help promote each other's work.   Using social media and their shared contacts, the collective hopes to bring about a greater awareness and appreciation of ceramic sculpture to the art world and beyond. 

Presentation topics also included the challenges of continuing an artistic practice after graduation, artists' residencies, and approaching galleries to show your work.  Robenalt, Rhode and Winters took turns discussing their experiences and sharing advice.  

Kevin Rhode, "Realeyes"

The Ceramic Sculpture Culture collective has big plans for the future- including a website, juried shows, and even a book.  For now, check out their instagram page to see examples of their work.   Also, check back here in a few days for another post I will be sharing about some insights I had after the lecture.  

Links to check out:

Ceramic Sculpture Culture on Instagram

Taylor Robenalt

Travis Winters

Kevin Rhode

Mary Cloonan

Towson University