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| Crafting Narratives, September 30 - December 31, Art Gallery at City Hall, Room 116. |
Crafting Narratives
September 30 - December 31, 2019
Art Gallery at City Hall, Room 116
Hours: 10 - 4 pm weekdays, closed during holidays
Follow www.creativephl.org/exhibitions @creativePHL
From our recent opening reception and the conversations that took place afterwards on social media, particularly on Facebook, by all indications our current exhibition Crafting Narratives was well received. The show was juried by Bruce Hoffman, the director of Gravers Lane Gallery in Chestnut Hill and features the works of 34 local artists: Karen Aumann, Reena Brooks, Elizabeth Coffey Williams, Marie Elcin, Dominique Ellis, Irwin Freeman, LL Gross, Joseph Iacona, Leroy Johnson, Pat Klein, Yeh Rim Lee, Ricki Lent, Paula Mandel, Martha Martin, Constance McBride, Christine McDonald, Nancy Middlebrook, Robyn Miller, Karen Misher, Alex Mosoeanu, Kathleen Murphy, Joan Myerson Shrager, Don Nakamura, Amy Orr, Catherine Rahman, Debra Sachs, Danielle Siegelbaum, Patricia Sullivan, Rosalind Sutkowski, Heather Ujiie, Hanna Vogel, Marie Weaver, Pedro Zagitt and Drew Zimmerman. As with all juried group shows, visitors are only seeing a sample of the works by these artists. I hope they explore further and visit the artists' websites or read their statements and bios.
First Things First
The juried shows at City Hall involve an independent selection process with some input that's mainly about spatial limitations and other physical capacities. Jurors tend to have free reign and should they require some form of assistance, then I'm always good for a conversation of sorts. Afterwards, I try to make the most sense of what was selected in designing the show, which is a process in itself of working with what you've been given. That's the nature of the collaboration, just a constant back and forth, sometimes lengthy, sometimes brief with mutual respect and an understanding of expectations. I think Bruce did a wonderful job of selecting works that are diverse in concepts and ideas, and cover a wide range of forms, including works in ceramic, wood, glass, fiber, paper, found objects and mixed media.
First Things First
The juried shows at City Hall involve an independent selection process with some input that's mainly about spatial limitations and other physical capacities. Jurors tend to have free reign and should they require some form of assistance, then I'm always good for a conversation of sorts. Afterwards, I try to make the most sense of what was selected in designing the show, which is a process in itself of working with what you've been given. That's the nature of the collaboration, just a constant back and forth, sometimes lengthy, sometimes brief with mutual respect and an understanding of expectations. I think Bruce did a wonderful job of selecting works that are diverse in concepts and ideas, and cover a wide range of forms, including works in ceramic, wood, glass, fiber, paper, found objects and mixed media.
Secondly, And I Mean Second-time Round
Crafting Narratives is the second exhibition where we've partnered with CraftNOW Philadelphia, a local nonprofit founded "by a consortium of individuals, galleries, museums, universities, retailers and civic organizations", that's united in its desire "to capitalize upon Philadelphia's outstanding craft resources and highlight the city's continuing role in defining the future of craft." Since it's conception in 2015, CraftNOW's mission has been "to showcase the city's craft community and create opportunities for the public to engage directly with the art of craft." Our office has worked with CraftNOW to help celebrate the entirety of November as Philadelphia Craft Month, and support and promote the series of events and exhibitions featuring local artisans around the time of the Philadelphia Museum of Art Contemporary Craft Show.
Craft Capital
This year's CraftNOW theme presents Philadelphia as a Craft Capital, a culturally and resource rich mecca for contemporary craft.
As one of the oldest cities in America, there's also a lot of history that supports this important recognition. As I sit under the shadow of William Penn, my first thoughts about this theme should be one that's most apparent and obvious. City Hall itself is not only an architectural marvel designed in the French Second Empire style of the mid-19th century, it is also adorned by 250 sculptural works by Alexander Milne Calder, including the bronze statues that surround and crown its tower, all of which had been cast in meticulous sections at Tacony Iron Works in Northeast Philadelphia. And while its 30-year construction and the transit systems beneath and adjacent to it might have beckoned in the Industrial Era, the building's stones, its many rooms and halls filled with decorative tiles and gilded ceilings, and the many carvings throughout involved the skillful craftsmanship of many hands.
Today as we celebrate contemporary local craft, the exhibition at City Hall amplifies the voices of Philadelphia's craft community. At the heart of our city in Center Square stands a monolithic structure envisioned by William Penn to serve as its "public buildings", a place of representative government beholden to its citizens. In this People's Building, our charge is clear: to embrace our heritage city as a capital of craft by presenting the works of Philadelphia's artists while expanding traditional notions of craft to explore contemporary contexts. Crafting Narratives is their stories, their voices presented within these hallowed halls.
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| Floor piece: "Yield" by Dominique Ellis, Centerpiece: "Hybrid Creature" by Heather Ujiie, Left background piece: "Daily Notes" by Marie Elcin, Right background piece: Dancing With My Mother by Elizabeth Coffey Williams |
The Narrative
I am going to skip the nonsensical discussion on the differences in semantics between craft and fine art as most people recognize today's blurred lines, and quite frankly when it comes to some structural hierarchy in art, no one really cares anymore. I would like to discuss instead how I see artists approach the narrative as it pertains to this show; and in doing so, I hope to show a different side of craft, one that invites viewers to rethink craft or at least approach it in a way that can be more than strictly a utilitarian or decorative form of art. Craft can also be infused with meaning.
Now, it's obviously true that the written language is different from the visual language. It's apples to oranges really, so avoid expecting some gotcha moment or some linear Hollywood plot when interpreting narratives in art.
Visual artists work with the relationships of forms to create open narratives. They orchestrate a series of interacting events, this juxtapositioning of symbols, sometimes including text, color, material or representational objects in order to create an environment for interpreting the work. Come to think of it, the show could easily have been called "Interpreting Craft", but this is one approach to the reading of art, by examining these relationships, these parts that direct and invite you to an open interpretation.
One example of this is a fiber piece by artist Elizabeth Coffey Williams entitled: Dancing With My Mother. Viewers are invited to reflect on her circular composition and the visual symbols she's chosen. From the way she depicts the creatures and plant life and her circular motif throughout, there's a nod to Mesoamerican art; and coupled with her informative title, a general nod to the mother of all mothers, our Earth.
Now I must confess. I do not come from the school of thinking that a work of art should stand on its own merits without the aid of artist statements or descriptive labels. For one, I tend to question merits. But also, in my opinion, if you don't want labels to interfere with your experience, then it's sort of a matter of just turning the channel, just don't read them. The experiences will be different. I do argue, however, that sometimes having that extra descriptive context can inspire meaning, and I do not take words to be a poison to understanding art. Words, much like poetry, can inspire imagination and provide further insight. If all we are doing is looking for meaning, then what's a little more insight from the artists themselves. It's the 21st century and artists should be able to talk about their work, their life and how they see the world.
In that spirit, here's a story of how Elizabeth Coffey Williams came out to her family as transgender in the 60s. Click Here. It may further inform your interpretation of her piece: Dancing With My Mother.
Now I must confess. I do not come from the school of thinking that a work of art should stand on its own merits without the aid of artist statements or descriptive labels. For one, I tend to question merits. But also, in my opinion, if you don't want labels to interfere with your experience, then it's sort of a matter of just turning the channel, just don't read them. The experiences will be different. I do argue, however, that sometimes having that extra descriptive context can inspire meaning, and I do not take words to be a poison to understanding art. Words, much like poetry, can inspire imagination and provide further insight. If all we are doing is looking for meaning, then what's a little more insight from the artists themselves. It's the 21st century and artists should be able to talk about their work, their life and how they see the world.
In that spirit, here's a story of how Elizabeth Coffey Williams came out to her family as transgender in the 60s. Click Here. It may further inform your interpretation of her piece: Dancing With My Mother.
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| Elizabeth Coffey Williams, "Dancing With My Mother", textile, 98" x 66" |
The Stories Behind the Work
I am fascinated by works that are drawn from everyday life experiences. These stories are utilitarian vessels in themselves, abstractions that nourish the soul. Part of the mission of the exhibits at City Hall is to put a face to the arts and draw human connections. These stories do that.
Karen Misher's Fairy Cup Mother speaks to her experiences as a parent of two boys with autism:
My desire to tell the story of my journey as their mother through my artistic voice is intended to inform an audience of our daily lives in new ways. By continuing to make work that references the body, a sense of intimacy is always present.
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| Karen Misher, "Fairy Cup Mother", Fabric, Play-Doh lids, 3D printed necklace |
The work is accompanied by written prose. Together, they tell the story of a journey of life filled with complexities, fear, joy and love.
Yellow cup mommy, I want yellow cup.
Yellow cup mommy, I want yellow cup
Yellow cup mommy, I want yellow cup
Yellow cup mommy, I want yellow cup
(knock knock)
I opened the door.
As she lifted that plastic bag, I knew.
I pulled her inside our room
I yanked it from the bag
I heard Nathan exclaim
"Yellow Cup!!"
He ripped the lid off
Shook the container
till the Playdoh fell out
of his most precious cup.
"Clickety click, clickety, click, click,
Clickety click"
That sound was never sweeter.
Constance McBride's The Lonely Girls ceramic installation series is another personal story that began after her mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and moved to an assisted living facility.
Constance McBride:
What started as a portrait of her became a collection of portraits of the women she lived with. All of them were left alone. Their spouses, partners and friends were long gone, and their children were really not equipped to take care of them. Once vibrant and accomplished women were reduced to mere shells of their former selves. Their bodies were still functioning, but their minds couldn't keep up. They were depressed and frustrated a lot of the time but in between, I saw glimpses of great joy in simple experiences like eating ice cream.
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| Constance McBride, The Lonely Girls, ceramic and wire installation |
To me, one of the great joys of experiencing art is understanding the unwritten invitation by artists for viewers to come explore and put their own imprint on the work; it's in the things that she leaves out that they are free to fill in. This valuable, intentional blank space, viewed as part of the triadic relation in semiotic circles between sign, object and interpretant, is also inherent in the creative process, that crucial dialogue between the artist, her work, and the exploration of meaning. The artist does the heavy lifting. Viewers get to reap the benefits.
Taking this concept one step further is when that blank space becomes a physical interactive. Dominique Ellis' Yield certainly does this. Drawing from her experience living in Morocco as a Peace Corps volunteer, Dominique's interdisciplinary practice explores storytelling, in this case, through the economics of craft. Her work changes the narrative of tiles as utilitarian objects by workers in Morocco to a creative exercise of community building, where visitors convene to create their own patterns and make connections. The art serves as a platform for these connections.
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| Dominique Ellis (sitting on left), "Yield", an interactive installation of ceramic bowls and tiles on wood |
There is one particular theme that I think several artists in this showcase share: the concern for the environment. It's the most important issue of our time and the fact that artists address it, using art as a platform for this critical issue, is also a reflection of the important role artists can play as activists. It also speaks to the quality of our citizenry, that we live in an extraordinarily engaged city.
Debra Sachs' piece, Weather Wheel, is a result of a 1 1/2 - 2 year project documenting the changes in the weather.
Debra Sachs:
I am fascinated by extreme weather and temperature variations that have become the new normal and how these changes can be expressed using color and shape while exposing odd temperature leaps. These are created as patterns intended to reveal concerns about the human experience. All temperatures were recorded at the Philadelphia International Airport.
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Debra Sachs, "Weather Wheel", carved poplar, acrylic paint, fishing line
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| Amy Orr, "Endless Stream", plastic, metal, wood |
Amy Orr's Endless Stream is an example of her obsessively ornate constructions from up-cycled plastic objects and unidentifiable remnants. Her piece invites viewers to contemplate our own usage of plastics as consumers and even though her art object is beautiful, the warnings are clear.
Other works that speak to this critical issue include Ricki Lent's mosaic piece: Dream Pillow for Bees, a stunning wake-up call to protect the bee population. Martha Martin's jewelry piece: Lantern Fly is a warning about the beautiful, but invasive lantern flies. Both pieces prove that beauty need not be sacrificed when infusing your work with social content.
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| Ricki Lent, "Dream Pillow for Bees", mosaic |
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| Martha Martin, "Lantern Fly", jewelry |
Putting More Faces to the Arts
Obviously in a show of 34 artists, this is only a sample of the works on display. I am hoping it's enough to entice readers to come visit our gallery before the show ends on the 31st of December. Here are a few more artists alongside their work, and in their own words:
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| Heather Ujiie, "Hybrid Creature", mixed media, zip ties, felt, screen |
Heather Ujiie:
In my current textile installation work, I strive to create
large-scale allegorical narratives that utilize analog and digital craft and
technology. As a designer and an artist, I hope my work suggests a fusion
between clean elegant design, and the raw underpinnings of creative expression.
I am preoccupied by the dichotomies within the human condition, which are
characterized by growth, beauty, loss and decay. I am also intrigued with
notions pertaining to our gender identity, mortality and sexuality. All my
textile work is a synthesis of several methods of artistry, including hand
painting, drawing, stitching, and printing with innovative large-format digital
printing technology. I hope my digitally printed textile installations ignite deep
spiritual forays into the imagination, and generate personal reflection on what
is hidden, whether it be our own personal demons, or our lust for life.
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| Alex Moso, "Seafoam on Fire", bark, acrylic, plaster on canvas; "Meltdown", bark, newspaper, acrylic on canvas |
Alex Moso:
With my background as being a first generation Romanian
American, I was always taught to make the most of everything around me. As an
artist, this mentality has greatly influenced my practice. My fascination with the story of rebirth started with
collecting fallen bark from the forest and seashells from the beach. I found
them beautiful but easily overlooked so that is when I found the solution of
combining the natural elements with newspaper, acrylic paints and plaster
paris. Placing the pieces intuitively and then plastering them all into one was
a healing experience that tells the story of transformation through pure
intention. By using vibrant colors that range from warm to cool mixed with
found material, I give this illusion of epic transformation from the mundane,
into something exciting and worthy of admiration.
I hope by sharing these specimens it can allow for my
audience to transcend into a curious
space within themselves that can transform them to see beauty in a more
intrinsic way. Not only are these creations reflective of my motto of making
the most of everything but allows for my audience to see the innovative ways to
tell a story of rebirth.
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| Drew Zimmerman, "Atlas", mixed media papier-mache, cardboard, paint |
Drew Zimmerman:
My collage works generally utilize a sculptured surface, a
relief structure made from layers of cardboard. I lift figures out of the
background. Thinking about this, I’d have to say I do it--because I can. I have
an option that isn’t available to a canvas painter. To me sculpture gives rise
to word associations more certainly than brushstrokes on a flat pane, and fewer
tricks of perspective need to be employed for the picture to make visual sense.
The thingyness of relief inspires narrative. In some pieces, like Atlas (2010), I represent the process by
which the piece was made, naming the materials or the steps I followed to accumulate
the art work. Atlas is in the form of a step-by-step comic strip that details
how I make a three-dimensional collage. I feel strongly that this list of
methods and materials is a mere sidebar to what I do, a red herring for the
viewer to worry over. In reality, the
physical evidence of the work means nothing; it doesn’t reveal the origins of
the art. I don’t operate like De Kooning or Pollock whose works were entirely
the painting gesture recorded in a particular present moment. My work
accumulates slowly and carries the burden of much planning and engineering.
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| Hanna Vogel, "Phase Transition #4" and "Phase Transition #8, steel wire, abaca and cotton paper pulp, pigment, rust, sealant |
Hanna Vogel:
I create imaginary landscapes and growths to investigate the
effects of entropy on our environments. I transform the commonplace materials
of paper and steel wire into unfamiliar forms and textures that evoke growth,
decay, and the tenuousness of our surroundings. By referencing craft traditions
and natural processes of dissolution, my work addresses aspects of physical
existence on the edge of potential destruction. The physical and connotative
properties of these materials speak of the possibility of their demise--a
wrinkled, skin-like coating of paper is stained and slowly decayed by the
rusting of the steel wire skeleton that supports it. By openly displaying their
own physical vulnerabilities, these objects call on the viewer to examine the
entropic nature of their own human body and its relationship to its
surroundings. In doing so, my work aims to cultivate compassion for the
physical world around us and for our own impermanent selves.
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| Marie Elcin, "Daily Notes", Embroidery on pieced fabrics |
Making art is a deep way of exploring ideas and creating
understanding of the complex world we live in. As an artist, my interests dwell
around themes of environment, communities, history, and the push and pull of
the natural and the man-made. In the studio, I try to approach art-making with
a spirit of experimentation through material explorations of color, texture,
pattern, layering, and mark-making in stitch.
Over
the past 3 years I have been cultivating a daily practice, resulting in works
that respond to events, emotions, and the passage of time. "Daily
Notes" was a year-long project that became a visual diary.
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| Kathleen Murphey, "To Herself", yarn and fabric |
Kathleen Murphey:
I have been writing protest poetry for some years now and
have succeeded in getting some of them published. I had seen images of Marianne Joergensen's
"Tank Cozy" (2006), and I thought why not? Subversive knitting is a form of protest and
so were my poems, so I plotted out and knitted the titles of the poems and
crocheted them into a blanket.
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| Joseph Iacona, "Sky is the Limit", watercolor on cast plaster |
I have always been interested in the concepts of
cause-and-effect relationships and am in constant observation of the world
around me. In my artistic practice I
have mostly shown my work as a painter, but teaching has caused me to explore
other mediums to pass on techniques to my students. Those experiences in the classroom have found
their way back into my studio, and in between paintings, I have dedicated time
expressing my concepts in sculptural form, often referring to images and themes
that come from my paintings. The
materials I have used are of my own my own making, for instance casting my
hand, or maybe scraps of material, leftover over clay from a class project or a
scrap of wood with some alterations, but they are reflective of myself, my
world, and my self portrait as an artist.
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| Rosalind Sutkowski, "Simulated Bark #2" and "Simulated Bark #9, wooden photography, poplar |
Rosalind Sutkowski:
These pieces are from a series of work titled “Simulated Tree
Bark”. I regard these objects as wooden
photographs. My process begins with traditional photographic images that are
digitally converted to 3D. I then use a CNC router or laser cutter as a
printer. The once flat photographic images become tactile bas-reliefs on wood.
The idea is to take a piece of lumber which is made from a tree that was cut
down and then re-processing the lumber so it reverts back to the original form
of the tree.
Please visit: www.creativephl.org for more information on City Hall exhibitions and other initiatives from the Office of Arts, Culture and the Creative Economy. Thank You!
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This blog is strictly my own personal viewpoint and does not reflect the viewpoint of the City of Philadelphia or OACCE.
