Last Day at the Anderson Center

(Above:  The Teapot, fiber vessel with found, rusted metal object.  Click on any image in this blog post to enlarge.)

Sadly, today was the last in my Anderson Center art residency.  Even the weather seemed to be crying tears of rain for tomorrow morning's very early departure.  I took advantage of the fantastically large studio space for as long as possible before cramming everything back into my car.  The last piece I finished is The Teapot.


(Above:  The Teapot, detail.)

I didn't intend to make an abstracted fiber teapot but that's what happened!  All I meant to do was to stitch the curved, rusty metal strip into the side of the vessel and allow the other end to puncture the opposite side.  Once done ... it resembled a teapot!  I started hand stitching the rest of the cording into what I hope will become a "cup".  Unfortunately, I can't force my machine to stitch a vessel quite that small.  So, I'll wait for another day when needle and thread can be plied by hand.

(Above:  Detail of The Teapot, inside the vessel.)

The metal strip came from the blacksmith studio at the Anderson Center.  I was luck enough to receive permission to take a few extra pieces of scrap metal with me ... so more will be coming!



(Above:  Grounded.  Fiber vessel with found scrap metal.)

I didn't have to carry away one special piece of scrap metal.  I used it!  From the side view, it isn't even shown ...




... but looking inside, the scrap metal is still attached to the cording that wraps around it.  I used a variegated rust colored thread on one side of the vessel and a deep eggplant color on the other side.  But, for the rim, I used a very bright orange.  It turned out rather well!

(Above:  Another detail of Grounded.)

When I applied to the Anderson Center, I requested a month.  I was offered (and jumped at the chance) for two weeks.  I've been encourage to reapply ... for the full month ... and I will do it!  Yet, this year I had a decision to make.  I could scale back my proposal, limit the goals I set for myself, or try to accomplish everything I set out to do if award thirty days.  Obviously, I selected the later.  I've been almost entirely successful.


(Above:  Bucket List, in progress ... the vessel it finished but it isn't filled.)

The only think I wasn't able to accomplish was my idea of filling a vessel with ripped and torn pages that were symbolic of the concept I was trying to convey.  Yet, I'm on my way to completing at least one piece done along these line.  Later this summer I will acquire a stack of old National Geographic Magazines.  The pages will be ripped, stitched, rolled, and tied to fill this vessel.  It will represent the way so many people once formed dreams of foreign travel ... what is today called "a bucket list".

(Above:  Detail of Bucket List.)

I wanted the vessel to be a little flatter than normal ... and overflowing with the ripped and stitched pages.  I selected an olive green color to coordinate with the many images of nature found inside the magazine but also to compliment the classic yellow on the covers.  So ... stay tuned ... Bucket List will eventually get done!


(Above:  Purple and blue vessel ... headed to the Anderson Center's 16th Annual Celebration of the Arts on July 11, 2015.)

I selected this purple and blue vessel (with a metallic purple rim) as well as the smaller of the two aqua vessels from my last blog post for the upcoming 16th Annual Celebration of the Arts here at the Anderson Center.  From home I brought three of my "Wet Sand" series pieces too.  (To read more about this epoxy experiment, click HERE.)

(Above:  Detail of the purple and blue vessel.)

I'm very honored that the Anderson Center wants some of my work for this occasion.  I selected the "Wet Sand" pieces because I felt they represented so much that important to the way I work.  I was asked to provide some sort of "statement" to explain the pieces.  This is what I wrote:

Almost every Tuesday night find me at Bill Mishoe's auction for used household furnishings and assorted table lots of “junk”. One evening I spied a very dusty, large painter's drop cloth. Paint splotches and wood stain drops speckled the surface. It reminded me of the texture of a sandy beach. This drop cloth was part of a table-lot that looked as if it had been in someone's garage for years. I didn't buy the lot but offered two-dollars to the flea market dealer who did. I took the drop cloth home and washed it. It still resembled sand. I tore it into various squares, put a piece of recycled white industrial felt behind it, and machine stitched it. I allowed the stains and spots of paint to guide itme. Hand stitching was then added. Finally, I experimented by pouring epoxy over the top. Now it looks very much like the wet sand along the coast of South Carolina.

I selected these pieces for the 16th Annual Summer Celebration of the Arts because they represent my state and because they include so much of what is important to my art. They were made using a found object. They were both hand and machine stitched. They are the result of experimentation. These are the very thing the define my studio practice. I also selected two fiber vessels created during my early May art residency at the Anderson Center. It has been my honor to be part of such a wonderful program at such a magical place. Thank you!

(Above:  Comfortable With the Pain I Know.)

I am truly honored to have been given two month here ... and especially for the opportunity to "raid" the rusty metal on location.  I really wanted to use this chain ... but I was worried.  Why?  Well it is a rather heavy chain.  The links are rather thick.  They was no way to slide them through two of the rings in my coil.  I was going to have to leave space ... like I did with one of my small pieces.



(Above:  Comfortable With the Pain I Know, detail.)

I could envision the chain moving in and out of the vessel.  It was going to be difficult ...



... until I realized that I didn't have to flip the vessel inside out and place it under the machine!  I could flip it on its end and simply "go the other way" ... making the holes I needed!



This process is far easier than the way I made the first vessel with a larger hole!  I'm really thrilled!



Plus, it looks good!


(Abpve:  The third table filled with newly tagged keys.)

I am also thrilled to announce that I made my "impossible goal".  I wanted to create five hundred newly tagged keys during the month.  Yet, I only had two weeks.  Well ... with the help of Facebook and blog readers ... I MADE IT!  Heres the third ...



... and the fourth table covered with keys!

I've been really, really good about blogging.  It is important to me to share this and all my other creative experiences.  It is how I show my family what I'm doing.  It is how I participate in the world of art relationships.  Yet, I never got around to blogging about the incredible Anderson Center Sculpture Garden.  I have all the photos.  I just haven't blogged them.  I promise ... this post is coming but not tonight.



But, I also promised a blog post on the amazing tunnels that connect the original buildings here at the Anderson Center.  I've got that covered!  In the two photos above, I've shown the greenhouse.  It is just this short walkway from the main house.  But ... the walkway is more than just a sidewalk.  It is the "roof" of an underground tunnel.  On cold Minnesota winter days, one never had to brave the subzero temperatures ...



.... instead ... one just had to walk down this short tunnel under the exterior sidewalk ...



...climb the stairs near the end of the tunnel ...



... to arrive inside the door that was shown in the photo above ...



... and enter the charming greenhouse!

The tunnel is accessed from the basement of the main house.  That basement is now the laundry area ... with machines of artists-in-residence to use ... including the detergent!  If you look closely, there's a door at the back of this photo.  It leads into a room off of which is another tunnel ...

... the tunnel to the water tower!  Yes, this sidewalk is also the "roof" of a subterranean tunnel!

It come up via these stairs (which are actually "off limits" ... but this is the only tunnel no longer used by the artists!)  There's a tunnel to the laboratory (now the Anderson Center's office, permanent and temporary art collection spaces, and the alternative high school classrooms) and further on to the barn!

Speaking of "school".  I had a wonderful time on Tuesday in front of the Red Wing High School 11th grade drawing and painting class. I gave a presentation on "being an artist", making sacrifices in order to make time for personal art, and how rewarding a creative life can be.  Plus, one of the alternative high school classes came to visit my studio on Wednesday.  It felt great to talk to young people ... to encourage their pursuits and interests.

(Above:  Marianne Boruch reading from her memoirs, The Glimpse Traveler, 2011 at Fair Trade Books in downtown Red Wing, MN during Open Mic Night.)

It also was an honor to listen while three of the four other artists-in-residence participated in the local Open Mic night at Fair Trade Books in downtown Red Wing.

(Above:  Paul Brantley playing two selections from Bach's Cello Suites.)

I can't think of a better way to end an art residency experience than being part of a standing-room-only crowd of people committed to their art and community!

(Above:  Stephan Clark reading from his book Sweetness # Nine.)



I'll miss the Anderson Center.  It's been emotionally, creatively, spiritually, and fabulously wonderful ... a second spring!  Now ... on to St. Louis and to a two-day workshop at the Craft Alliance!  Can't wait!

I am linking this post to Nina-Marie's "Off the Wall Fridays", a site for sharing fiber artwork.

Fiber Vessels and a Silly Woodpecker

 (Above:  The Jagged Edge.  Fiber vessel and found scrap metal.  Click on any image in this post to enlarge.)

For the past two days fiber vessels have been under construction in my enormous, provided studio space here at the Anderson Center art residency program.  It's been WONDERFUL!  One of the best things about this experience has been the many moments of serendipity.  For example, my original residency proposal outlined my ideas for including found objects going through the walls of my vessels to convey some sort of concept or suggest some sort of narrative.  I gave as an example, my desire to have an old rusty chain going through one vessel.  I brought my chain.  It is still in my car.  Why?  Well, the Anderson Center has an outdoor blacksmith studio with a very large, though orderly, piles of rusty scrap metal.  I was given permission to use whatever I wanted ... and the finds from this stash is BETTER than anything I'd dare dream!  I hauled several pieces back to my studio.  One piece looked sort of like a dagger or knife blade uncovered from an archeological dig.  An edge included the remains of solder (?).  The coloring matched one of my balls of cording.  I knew I wanted this piece of metal to go through a vessel made with that cording ... but my vision was that the metal be positioned with the soldered edge facing up out of the bowl.

 

(Above:  Flipping the vessel, inside out and under the machine ... in order to switch stitching directions and create a "hole" in the vessel for the scrap metal.)

Getting the scrap metal into the position I wanted presented a problem.  The width of the scrap metal would need to be perpendicular to the rows of stitched cording.  It couldn't be easily slid between a slit in the rows.  I thought about it and thought about it ... and then an experiment came to mind.  What if I turned the cording around and stitched in the opposite direction?  I tried it.  To do this, the vessel had to be flipped inside-out and rotated underneath the body of the machine ... allowing me to stitch in the opposite direction.  Once I stitched back to almost the same place (one rotation around the vessel), I had to re-flip the vessel "right-side out" and stitch back in the opposite direction.

This explanation might make no sense whatsoever ... but I'll bet the photo above shows how I switched directions to leave an opening.  I did this on both side of the vessel ... carefully comparing my scrap metal to the holes I was creating.

 

 When I finished the vessel, I inserted the scrap metal.  Believe it or not, I can still take the scrap metal in and out of the vessel.  The experiment was a SUCCESS! 

 (Above:  Collapsing World, fiber vessel still attached to the ball of cording from which it was stitched.)

Next, I decided to make another asymmetrical vessel.  I knew I wanted to leave a small ball of the cording inside the work ... as if still unwinding.

To make the vessel look as if it had once been a sphere, I had to start another vessel for the "top" and stitch it onto the upper rings of the lower vessel.  From the "top's" edge, I allowed the rest of the ball of cording to dangle down to the ball beneath.

It took nearly as long to stitch that ball together (so they it will never unwind) as it did to make almost the entire vessel!  Every time I thought it was finished, I found another part that needed stitched down! LOL!  I wasn't sure what to call this vessel until last night.  After dinner the poet, two novelists, and musical composer did me the honor of coming for a studio tour to see my work.  One remarked that this vessel appeared to be "collapsing".  Immediately, I fell in love with this word and the suggestive qualities and the way it described a motion and an emotion all at the same time!  Thanks, Stephan!

 

 (Above:  Metallic copper vessel.)

As long as I was experimenting, I thought I'd try another idea ... one I knew would be very, very hard to accomplish.  I wanted to use metallic thread on the outside of a vessel ... especially a lovely but difficult copper thread I brought with me.  Metallic threads are HARD.  Zigzag stitching at the widest width is HARDER! 

 

Even with a metallic needle, thin bobbin thread, and slowing the speed at which I stitch, the thread gets tangled, breaks, and there's a lot of swearing under my breathe.  It took seemingly FOREVER to make this vessel but, oh is it pretty!  No image can truly capture the reflective nature of metallic thread.  I'm very, very pleased with this attractive work.
 
 (Above:  Blue Vessel.)

After making the metallic copper vessel, I just needed to unwind with something much easier.  I made this nice blue vessel.  I'm not sure what, exactly, I'll do with it in order to make it something more than a mere vessel, something "conceptual".  I might do nothing at all.  What's wrong with a simple shape, especially after a difficult piece? LOL!

Yesterday afternoon was also quite special.  I was invited to attend an elusive art history club in Red Wing.  The organization was started back in 1901.  Membership is limited to around thirty ladies because meetings are held in members' homes.  Every year a topic for study is selected and eight session are held with a presentation related to the focus genre.  This year is "the year of glass".  Yesterday's meeting was all about the history, making, and use of glass beads.  The speaker (one of the members ... they all take turns hosting, preparing a shared dessert, and making the well-informed program) was absolutely marvelous.  She was well informed from ancient times through trade beads to the differences between Venetian and Bohemian glass production.  She had fabulous examples too!  The stylish home sat on the Upper Mississippi river and was furnished with great art.  It was a privilege to be there.  Ruth Nerhaugen, a free-lance correspondent for the Red Wing Republican Eagle, picked me up and brought me back ... taking a long, scenic return trip to the top of one of the bluffs overlooking the town and along the river road.  Thank you, Ruth ... and also for the wonderful artist you wrote introducing all of the May artists at the Anderson Center, including me!  (CLICK HERE for that article!)

 (Above:  Two aqua vessels.)

Another idea for these fiber vessels was to use two different shapes while stitching them.  I used a slightly variegated green thread on one side and a light blue on the other when making these two vessel.

 (Above:  The silliest woodpecker!)

While stitching many of these vessels, I thought I heard a strange noise.  My sense of hearing isn't very good.  I especially have difficulty determining the direction from which a sound it coming.  I could have sworn, however, that the sound seemed metallic ... like someone banging on a tin roof ... something outside ... something that starts, stops, starts again, and then ceases.  Finally, I figured it out. 

This silly woodpecker continues to visit a sculpture right outside my studio door .... pecking on the upright hollow rod ... as if it were a tree.  He's been doing it every few hours for days.  Maybe that's why we refer to "silliness" as being acts done by Bird-Brains!

Cording, Keys, and Using Time Wisely!

(Above:  So Obvious It Might Bite.  Machine zigzag cording wrapped around scrap metal. Click on any image in this blog post to enlarge.)

The last two days at the Anderson Center art residency have been amazing.  For the most part, the weather has been beautiful.  Even an late afternoon storm seemed refreshing.  Time, my constant enemy, seems to have slowed down which is part of the reason I covet art residency opportunities. Here I have all day, day after day, to work.  It's wonderful!  At home I have a balancing act, like most people.  There's my "day job" and my "art job" plus all the paperwork and other demands that come with both jobs.  Time always seems to get away from me. Days pass too quickly.  Hours are gone in the blink of an eye.  Yet here in Red Wing, Minnesota, I can sit at an outside picnic bench and enjoy the sunshine while wrapping zigzag stitched cording around scrap metal.  What could be better! 


(Above:  The small box of hundreds and hundreds of old keys that I brought with me.)

Of course I'm spending my time as wisely as possible.  Though seemingly "stretched out, it is limited! But having an art residency means there are larger blocks of time to put toward various goals ... like tagging keys.  I brought a small box of old keys with me.  It's small but it certainly weighs more than one would guess.  I set a goal for myself, 500 newly tags keys.  It is a lofty goal, loads of work, hours and hours of time.  I might not make it but at least I have a fighting chance.  People on Facebook and here on my blog left me suggestions for about 275 keys.  So, I'm past the halfway point!  (If you want to make a suggestion, leave me a comment!)

 
  (Above:  The first table filled with tagged keys!)

This is the first table of tagged keys!  Two tables are filled and I'm working on the third!  Yes, the provided studio is really this large.  It's great!  I stitch the tag to the cord and then the cord to the key.  I've been timing myself too.  It takes forty-five minutes to attach twenty-five tags.  I made piles of twenty-five tags (in order to count them).  After every twenty-five, I dipped my thumb and forefinger in matte medium and twirled the stitching ... sealing the ends of the thread ... and then put the keys on the table to allow the matte medium to dry.


(Above:  Cording for key tags.)

Tagging keys is a very meditative process.  It is also quite fun because I have to select each key.  The "Key to a Flibbertigibbet" can't be an ordinary looking key!  The "Key to Breaking the Hegemony" needs to be a big, powerful looking one.  The "Key to Beauty" must be pretty.  The "Key to Debauchery" shouldn't look like the "Key to Piety".  The "Key to Originality" ought to be unique ... just as the "Key to Simplicity" should reflect it's name!  I even had a key with the word "Lion" on it for the "Key to the Lion's Den" ... and a funny looking American Tourister key for the "Key to Silliness".  During the process, I ran out of cording.  Sure, I made balls and balls of cording for the first four-and-a-half days but it was all the wrong sort.  The cording I use for the keys is made using only two strands of ordinary, acrylic knitting yarn.  Also, I zigzag stitch it twice: once just to make the two strands into a cord and once with very close zigzag stitching to make it thin, strong, and more like twine.  The second pass takes a long, long time.  I nearly stopped when I knew I had enough ... but this is an art residency.  Time is different here.  This is a chance to use my time wisely.  Don't stop with "enough"! Make a really, really big ball!  I'll always need it!  This was my opportunity!

(Above:  Red Heart variegated acrylic yarn.)

Now, my stash of yarn is enormous.  I never bought any of it new.  I got all of it from yard sales and auctions, other women's dreams of sweaters and afghans and other handmade objects.  Lots of it is really cheap acrylic yarn, probably purchased on sale.  I found two unused skeins ... Red Heart's Williamsburg and Fall.  The ball of key cording above is what happens when ALL of it is used.  Looking on-line, I learned that these skeins have 236 yards each.  It took me over four hours to make the ball of key cording.  That second pass takes a long, long time!  During an art residency, I can afford that time.  I'm almost giddy that I now have so much key cording ... so ... send me your "words" and "phrases" for new keys!  I'm on a roll!



(Above: So Obvious It Might Bite.)

While making all that key cording, I had plenty of time to think about the work I'm making, the proposal I wrote, and the concepts of turning objects into conceptual works.  I thought about the fact that I ran out of cording for keys.  I brought more, after all ... but I used some to wrap a few of the pieces of scrap metal.  I thought about the scrap metal I hadn't yet wrapped.  I especially thought about the one heavy piece with all the jagged edges.  What on earth was I going to do with it?  Why did I carry it back to my studio in the first place? What did I like about it? What was it telling me? In the four hours of making key cording, the answers came to me .... it was So Obvious It Might Bite.  I made the piece right after the cording!  I like it!

(Above:  The first table of tagged keys.)

I stood on a stool, put my camera flat against the ceiling, and snapped the photos of the first and second table of tagged keys!  They look lovely sitting there!  Thank you to everyone who contributed a word or phrase ... including Ed Madden, Jose Lanters, Martha Diane Hansen, Cindi Boiter, Monika Lenz, Vivien Zepf, Betty Malone, Sue Krekorian, Traci Paxton Johnson, Angie Hall Collett, Barbara Fueston Grandon, Jane Bartlett-Symes, Mary Jo Cartledgehayes, Stephanie Sarkisian, Corryna Geers, Mary Langston, Laural Siler, Gwen Bordenkirchen, Denna Hayes, Linda Lemon Leeke, Karen Kobylus, Kate Webb, Margaret Neville, Deana Remick, Anne Marie Desaulniers, Mary How, Nicholl Ransom, Sonya Lenz, Sandy Townsend Donabed, Gypsye D. Legge, Karen Kershaw, Karen Christensen, AAnne Olesnicki-Shuhan, and my Dad! (Plus anyone I accidentally forgot! Sorry!)

(Above:  The second table of tagged keys.)

(Above:  Ship of Fools, work in progress?)

I've been rotating my projects ... tagging keys, wrapping scrap metal, and making fiber vessels meant to generate some sort of conceptual response or suggestive of a tidbit of narrative.  I used the ball of cording made from thick "denim" yarn and assorted complimentary colored yarns and filled it with rusted chains, wrapped old scraps of metal and even an old, rusty hammer head.  I'm not entirely sure I'm done with the piece or even whether I like it.

One scrap metal does suggest a lone paddle.  The claw hammer head suggests an anchor.  The weight of the chains is really "crazy" for a sea-worthy vessel ... all part of the Ship of Fools ... but I'm thinking I need some sort of mast and ratty sail?  I'm not sure. 

One of the other things about "spending time wisely" is knowing when to put a piece aside.  I can't afford to solve this piece right now.  It will wait.  If anyone reading has any suggestions, I'd welcome them.  Now ... back to my studio ... back to "the gift of time" which I intend to use wisely until the very last moment!

(Above:  The A. P. Anderson Award in "the Barn".)

On Friday night the Anderson Center hosted its annual award banquet in the remodeled "barn" which functions now as an elegant performance and event space.



The dinner was delicious.  The speeches were few and to the point!



Butch Thompson, the jazz pianist and clarinetist widely known for his twelve years with the Prairie Home Companion, was the award honoree. After a brief and very amusing interview, he played for the appreciative audience.  It was a privilege to be among those applauding.



While almost everything here at the Anderson Center is wonderful, there was one sad event.  The storm that blew through late one afternoon blew the hatchling robins from their window sill nest.  I found one dead baby at the foot of the water tower.  I didn't even look for the others.  The two robin parents were still chirping with alarm in the tree branches.  I was told it was early enough in spring; they might lay more eggs.  I don't know but it was sad to see the empty nest.