a quirky fiber artist writes this stuff

Cold weather means a real shift for me art and fiber wise. Gone are those warm days when i could wash wool on the garden level patio, or felting away while Nina  Simone sang in the background. Winter brings a need to hunker down in front of  the wood stove with a book or a hank of wool. The loom gets moved to a space facing the tv. so I can weave while a Ralph Fiennes movie gives me the rythm one need to get the weft and warp so even and smooth and not have selvages that look like the cat has been chewing them.

It's a more inward time where ideas continue to perk but just as the metabolism of small animals changes so does my artistic metabolism. It's a good time to dye batches of wool as they need heat and I want heat. and it's also a good time to actually sew because the studio temperature invites the steam iron to be on for long periods.

Abigail;s going back and forth between the house and studio gets cut off because the door has to stay closed for the heat to stay in  but I find that  just as I enjoy the smell and comforts of the warm fibers, she makes small nests in the fabric caches and goes to sleep quickly.  Which is good that most of my wool and silk starts white because  as she sheds all over them it's not as obnoxious as when she decides to roll around on a piece of black linen  or velvet.

The fiber group I began this summer I  hope will continue. we have shifted to a sundat after noon as up here in the NW it gets dark quite early. and I have come to look forward to the company of these women. funny how binds can form quickly when one comes together over something passionately central to one's life- creating something from  nothing. our number is up to six. I am considering letting in one more woman because I  lean towards the asymmetry of seven.... but she might be a little anal. even for me. So time will tell. I have invited her. no response. and tomorrow is our next get together. so lulu and louise and beth and pat and kim and I will munch, sip tea, play with fibers and talk about our lives.  doesn't get much better when you want to bounce ideas around. shalom.

the thing that distinguishes the two have been on my mind a lot. and it don't think the distinguishing factor is an  easy one to pinpoint. clearly there are some mediums which make the distinction easier: oil paint, water color, bronze- in these cases we have good art and bad art. Even photography ranges from the home snap shot to the scenic tourist panorama to the REAL art of a Stieglitz or Mapplethorpe.

But when dealing with materials that fall into the craft/artisan realm it gets very tricky: clay, wood, fiber, glass, precious metals. So these are the materials and artists/artisans I am thinking about.

For example I have a friend who makes exquisite stuff with clay. porcelain, amazing glazes, all functional and when you look at her work you say "Oh I bet Celeste made that!" and Celeste is an impeccable artisan and maybe she  would even be offended that I don't call her an artist.

Because, for me,  the artist working in clay  takes that material just a few steps further and enters the realm of ART.   It's someone like Maria Simon who takes clay and makes it into a bas relief that tricks you into thinking she has spent months honing and carving wood. Or the late and beloved Bernie Marek from Boulder whose work ranged from the sublimely functional wedding bowls (I own one) to the Bosch like peeled globes writhing with small human figures beneath the surface.

Or the amazing perfectionist quilter who have a fabulous eye for color and design but it's still a quilt to the  black women who improvise  with color and shape and turn their quilts into jazz ensembles more like the ashcan painters than anything you have seen sewn at home.
 
Beads are really popular and there are wonderful artisans who make amazing jewelry and to me it remains with the realm of fine artisan ship vs Liza Lou who makes entire rooms out of peyote stitch so that even the eggs on her kitchen tables are all done in beads.

Glass- wildly popular and many fine workers are making bowls and plaques and lamp shades and then along come Dale Chihuly and throws all the concepts of what glass can do to the winds and brings you into another world- surrounded by the ephemeral sheen of liquid sand.

As a fiber artist this distinction lays on my mind as I was in show recently where two other women were working in silk and fabric. One painting exquisitely on silk. almost art but they were scarves dyed with a painting of an orchid. if she had tweaked it more and worked it more her  she would have made the leap into art. Or a woman who is an amazing stitcher making fabric vessels which i guess sit a top a table or a mantel and are wonderful 'garniture" ( a friend coined that name for the wonderful things that garnish our houses ans furniture like finials and tassels and even mantel adornment) and her work was incredibly made and she even had her "artistic statement" but she wasn't taking the medium of cotton /wool.silk much further than anyone else takes it and what emotional or felling did her work evoke? what story or whimsy or prophecy , controversy or  affect did her work transfer to the viewer? if she had done any of those things she would have lept into art.

Another example in the show I was honored to join was two women working with clay. One made quite competent vessel. cups bowls dishes- normal glazes and lots of brown and she sold a lot of stuff and then across the room from her is Willa Schneberg an amazing clay artist who has broken the boundaries of artisan and was making art: fantastic biological pieces, twisted delicate gilt pieces that were inspired by wire wisps. and miniature temples - the buddist  stuppa.... ok some might  call this woman an artisan - but to me her  work screamed A-R-T.

so where do I fit? Okay I will say it out loud I am an artist working in wool and felt. My pieces are intended to make you smile with their silliness, cringe with their raw anger, wonder about sexuality and mostly move you in some way. Now there are people who may not LIKE my art - like people didn;t like the action painters or (heaven forbid) the color field wonders. but clearly the purpose of my pieces are not to decorate- show my perfect skill- which is absent- but to make you think, pull you in deeper or maybe even repel you because one looks like a jeweled menstrual pad. But it does something. It's not garniture. it's not crafty flower pins. I know because I do craft and artisan work too. My weaving is artisan, my painted scarves, my tallitot, felt jewlery. I know where they fall. even my photography, some of it quite nice doesn't transcend the medium- but when small pieces of hand dyed wool and silk get formed into an abstraction that takes you somewhere else. then I am making art. get it?

And don't get me wrong I have enormous respect for the impeccable skill of a jewelry maker, glass worker, stitcher or  clay worker. And I adore craft. I own it in abundance. But it's not the skill that differentiates or the even the intention always, but  art transforms. plain and simple. Some movies are  a joy to watch : you laugh and cry and three months later hardly recall anything that passed your mind in the two hours you watched and then there are the films that change your view forever or enter your psyche and expand you experience permanently. and that's art.

So let me take you to some the amazing detailed painting I saw last Sunday - great technique and very very pretty flowers or pomegranates and compare them to the simple primitive watermelon painted my the late Mose Tolliver. and ask you... Is the finer painter the real artist or does Mose- with all his heart in that little fruit painted on recyled wood change  you more.?. I vote for Mr. T.

I know it has been ages since I blogged. So much time has gone into preparing for the Celebration of Art at Portland's Mittelman Jewish Community Center that I haven;t even  been cooking. Thank heavens for frozen pizza, take out thai and an amazing husband who hauled and frames and kept me company through the entire process.

The exhibit itself was a fantastic success and I made connections with people in the community including the Oregon Jewish Museum and The Pomegranate Guild that will be fantastic. It was also heartening to get such affirmation that people found my work whimsical, intense fascinating or just plain amazing.

Because so many people are unfamiliar with the process I brought raw wool and silk cocoons with me so people could  begin to understand how the materials look int heir raw form and how far I take them to get the finished product. But I will confess I am exhausted with the process , need a few days to come down from the high and then I can attack the studio again, this time without 50 pieces of famed art in piles in every corner. Mazels to myself!!! Is that kosher?

I have framed all the assemblages I am going to frame and I have bought hooks and am still adding hanging hardware to the backs of about 30 pieces, but I have a great sense of serenity as I get closer to October and know that I have really been on a great spiral of creativity.

and in order to keep it going I have signed up for a felting as a sculptural medium workshop and re-established two meet up groups to find women working with similar sensibilities who are at  similar place in their artistic path.

I also went on a soul collage trek which I will write about later when I have photos of some of the images I created. Most importantly is the immense sense of life surge and energy that has infused my life and heart and  given me a great sense of interior purpose. I have begun to very large pieces which with my husbands help will be installed in the very very high gallery stairwell of our three story house. Right above genuine Miro lithographs.
Do I sound happy? I am.