Wisdom of the Jabberwock

"It seems very pretty," Alice said when she had finished the poem of the Jabberwock, "but it's rather hard to understand!" (You see she didn't like to confess, even to herself, that she couldn't make it out at all.) "Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas—only I don't exactly know what they are!"   Through The Looking Glass (1872) by Lewis Carroll

In starting this new series, Jabberwocky, I find myself much like Alice lost in Wonderland, that place where logic and perception are passing states of mind.  As with Alice, I have a head full of ideas but no clue as to where they are taking me.  It's an attempt to take my version of objet trouve art to where a logical response is subservient to a whimsical perception.  I must be going in the right (brained) direction as these new creations certainly appear to be meaningless at first glance.  But do they speak in riddles?  Is there some hidden symbolism?  The viewer must be the judge, because this artist does not know.

All the branches of Art stem from the same root.  Poems can create an emotional sensation not readily definable.  These rhyming words bounce off one another creating a rhythm that lures the brain to an alternate consciousness.  The words themselves may be utter gibberish.  This sensation can be replicated with an assemblage of components that interact with one another based on the principles of design.  When done correctly a similar rhythm occurs visually.

Meaning is not a requirement in any of the Arts, but some response is required for a piece to be successful in communicating with others.  Logical minds inherently look beneath the surface to find a certain significance.  Thankfully, human perception widely differs thereby instilling a single work of art with a multitude of meanings. And the delightful result is that all are correct.  Whether the artist has a preconception or is groping blindly in an intuitive ether, his/her meaning of the piece is secondary to that of the viewer.  For it is the one who stands before it at that precise moment in time who finds the true meaning deep within their own psyche.

So come with me on this journey to a world where nothing is quite what it seems.  If you find “the white knight is walking backwards and the red queen is off her head”, remember...  

There is a fine line between sense and nonsense.   Just ask Alice.

Presto

“Now you see it, now you don't”, proclaims the magician, as an ordinary object changes before your very eyes! As an artist, I can certainly relate to this. Art is illusion and artists are illusionists. We all have our 'tricks of the trade', but the Magic we all share is called Intuition. It's an inner compass that always leads in the right direction. If followed blindly, it never fails us. I have never understood this phenomena nor wish to, but recently I have felt the need to examine it.

This desire came about after being invited to participate with two other artists in an upcoming exhibit entitled “Changing States”. As the exhibit title implies, it focuses on the use of unexpected materials in uncommon ways. While choosing my artwork for the show, I carefully analyised which ones best addressed the theme. It was during this selection process, I realized that my trick is to assign each found object a human-like persona. This allows my subconscious to have a conversation with it. The resulting creative collaboration is mutually beneficial.  Each finished art piece is as individualistic in expression as the found object that is featured. Some discards take center stage, while others become chameleons. I often feel each object determines its own role while I simply set the stage and raise the curtain!

Here are two different examples of  'waving the magic wand.' 

In The End Of Summer, the vintage 1960s tambourine has changed physically, but retains its original premise. Now broken, it is no longer an instrument of joy. It has become a silent oracle warning the future of repeating the past.  Once a symbol of the Summer of Love, it currently serves as a grim reminder of the despair of war.  It is the repository of the conflicting emotions of a lost generation. I deplore the arbitrary use of the word “important". But to me, The End Of Summer is an important piece. The statement is as relevant today as it was half a century ago.

On the other end of the spectrum is Beyond. The main element has hidden its origin well, but it forms the foundation of this mixed media collage. The deteriorated lid of a cardboard box has morphed into the flat earth of ancient belief. It is hardly noticed in the turmoil surrounding it. But it serves as the springboard to discovery of unknown worlds that lay far beyond human cognizance. Beyond also carries a message. Curiosity sustained by imagination leads to invention; invention leads to knowledge which leads to discovery. Although this piece portrays space exploration, the equation can be applied in any arena.  Beyond is my interpretation of “thinking outside the box.”

Witness the magic of Kimberly Riner, Jim Krieger, and myself at “Changing States”. It opens January 2017 at the Alliance for the Arts in Fort Myers, Florida. You will be amazed!

Musing On the Muse

Once again, I am faced with the seemingly impassable creative block. As always, it will pass as unexpectedly as it appeared. Meanwhile, I am waiting and waiting and waiting for inspiration to strike. Waiting for the Muse of Visual Art is as futile as waiting for Godot. Why? She does not exist. She never has. I discovered this unfortunate fact, while searching the highways of the gods (the Internet) to call upon her name. These nine sisters were involved in other pursuits; song, music, poetry, theatre, dance, history, astronomy. They had no time for mere painters, sculptors, and architects. Ironically, these artists define Classical Greek civilization as we know it today.

So what's a poor artist to do? We must look to ourselves for inspiration. The methods are as diverse as the artists who use them. I can only describe my process. Working in the field of objet trouve, I become ecstatic when finding a cast-off that screams potential for reinvention.  However, to create that metaphoric “spark of inspiration”, I need two found objects, the 'flint' and the 'iron striker'.  I find that it's a mating of complimentary contrasts.  It reflects the duality of Life; day and night, good and evil.  But inspiration is not enough.  The spark must be kindled to become a creative fire or it becomes the trailing smoke of lost opportunity. And that kindling is intuition. This is what eventually leads to cognitive thought, the message the artist transmits through his art.

Indelible Ink is a classic example of this process.  It's creation began by finding a very weathered piece of wallboard (the flint) at an illegal construction dump site in the woods. Mother Nature had created a beautiful texture that could never be duplicated. Back to the studio. Now what?  My enthusiasm at discovery began to fade.   Then my eyes fell upon the recent gift of a friend; yards of bridal lace from a discarded wedding gown (the striker). The inspirational spark became a whirlwind courtship resulting in a happy marriage of opposites! Intuition led to an unknown continent upon the sea, but serendipity led to its ancient civilizations with 'pearls of wisdom.'

Checkmate

For several years I have used objet trouve for my personal expression. I used weathered and corroded material in two dimensional mixed media assemblages. 

My four-year retrospective exhibit in May of 2014 was highly received by the public. Perhaps it was the anti-climax of a long endeavor, but I felt I had reached an ending and required a new beginning. I would see where three dimensional constructions would lead. 

Added to weathered materials found in situ, will be unwanted items found on dusty shelves, in nooks and crannies. They will consist of second-hand, old, vintage and sometimes antique, bits and bobs. I have started work on this new collection which I call the Game Piece series. The title was derived for two reasons. The artwork resembles the turned wood counters of old board games. It is also a mental game to unite the disparate materials of each; balancing the technical difficulties of construction with the design elements.

Beekeeper is my first Game Piece.  It measures 18 inches in height. The 1934 vintage game board is 16" square.  Materials include tin pot lid, parrot toy, flower pot, mini dart board, sofa leg, tea light, chess men, and miscellaneous material.

A Dented Toyota

The other day while pulling into a parking lot, I noticed the car beside me had a large dent in the rear fender. What drew my attention to it was the self-adhesive letters in the dent spelling out the words wabi-sabi. I laughed all the way to the coffee shop. I appreciated the dry humor of the car's owner as my recent artwork is based on these two little words. 

Wabi-sabi is an ancient Japanese aesthetic. The conjunction does not translate easily. Wabi basically means a humble simplicity of thought or action. Sabi refers to the beauty and serenity that comes from a life of usefulness. In brief, a transcendence of the ordinary. The concept is derived from Zen, a branch of Buddhism. All that is authentic must encompass three realities; nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect. This philosophy is illustrated in commonplace objects either of natural or human construction. It may be quirks and anomalies found in nature or signs of age and wear in man-made utensils. It's the service rendered that is revered. The object is merely the shrine.  

I take an extreme approach to wabi-sabi. In creating my personal interpretation, I select only discarded material that has outlived its usefulness. A well-worn rag that shreds to the touch. A pail that has rusted into many pieces. I attempt to capture the item's intangible essence by creating a shrine through composition. If I succeed, the item takes on a different form altogether. Given a new perceptive it reveals the significance found hidden within its deceptive appearance.

So after days of questioning my artistic direction, I'm presented with validation by a dented Toyota!  I'm not sure where I'm headed but I must be going the right way.

My Journey

One of my earliest memories is laying on a warm window seat trying to capture a Wisconsin snowstorm with a coffee can filled with broken Crayolas. Since there was no white crayon, blue snow fell on Oshkosh in the winter of 1956.

The real beginning was my first oil painting I completed at age 15. It was truly horrible, but my art teacher saw a glimmer of talent and encouraged me to continue. Tuition to a university or recognized art school was financially impossible, so I pursued an art education on my own. Inspiration was everywhere! Every artist was a demi-god, every museum was a palace of beauty. I soaked it all up. 

The '70s found me in Florida having some small commercial success with local scenes painted in oil, acrylic, and pastel. My hard-earned profits paid for every workshop, demonstration, seminar, or lecture available to me. Among others, I studied the principles and elements of composition under David Friend, nationally recognized artist and author. My work became more integrated and altogether more solid. It had substance and my fortune changed. Years followed of gallery receptions and juried exhibitions. 

There were many awards but few rewards. Painting became a never-ending struggle for that golden fleece of recognition. It was a time of angst and frustration. One day I realized I had forgotten the true meaning of being an artist. I did not like what I had become. I put down my brushes, turned my back on The Art World and walked away...

There are certain laws of Nature that we often do not understand. Salmon swim upstream to spawn, sea turtles return to the same beach to nest and true artists always return to their art. When I did, I looked for a new direction both in thought and process. I made paper collages, then went on to mixed media. My surfaces became more dimensional as I incorporated other materials. Then I discovered the art of objet trouve or found object. I was soon creating wall assemblages and free-standing constructions. 

I choose items that can no longer be of any useful purpose. At first it was the chaIlenge of turning nothing into something. But gradually my artwork became a metaphor of philosophical and social viewpoints. I use the most mundane discards in a symbolic capacity to lead the viewer to see our surroundings through new eyes. My awards are fewer now, but my rewards are so much greater. I have personal satisfaction. I communicate my beliefs. I love what I do. I remember what art is all about.... I am content.