Archive for the ‘Philosophy’ Category

Terra Silva: A Return to the Roots

Friday, February 7th, 2014

Hello all,

Last month, after a four month wait since applying, I was awarded a generous grant to pursue a project very dear to my heart. The grant is the Ontario Arts Council Franco-Ontarian Arts Grant for Established Artists, and it is meant to help artists set aside time and resources to creating a body of work.

snoopy

SNOOPY DOING LORRAINE’S HAPPY DANCE

For my project, I propose to create an exhibition inspired by the world beneath the earth’s surface, where roots meet the soil. Most of us are completely unaware of the millions of organisms that work the soil. In fact, soil life accounts for a much larger living mass than that which exists above ground, just as roots can outweigh and outsize the visible part of the tree. I have always been fascinated by the science of soil, and it has been the subject of much of my latest work.

In my search for inspiration, I recently became aware of the work of Prof Suzanne Simard of UBC. Dr Simard is studying how microscopic fungi act as a communication interface between one set of roots and another, creating bridges between various tree species to share resources. The network works much like the neural networks of our own brain. Through her work, we are learning that trees in a forest do not compete, but in fact cooperate with each other and share resources. This gives a forest more resilience and stability against adversity like disease or climate change. In every forest ecosystem, there are certain Mother trees – older, larger specimens – that serve as anchors for a large grouping of younger trees around them. When Mother trees die, they slowly release their stored nutrients and resources to all the trees in the network. Click on the image below for a wonderful video of Prof Simard, talking about Mother Trees.

simard photoProfessor Suzanne Simard explaining her research: click on image to see short video

This research is a rich source of inspiration, both visually and conceptually. Also, it will be relevant to all who love trees and nature, and who care about the environment. I have been in touch with Dr Simard – she is eager to share more information and is excited about the exhibition. In fact, she invites me to come and see first-hand what she and her students are up to in the lab and in the field. Of course, I am saying YES!

So, here I am right at the beginning. Dr Simard sent me half a dozen papers and articles to read up on, and I’ve acquired a textbook for which she is a contributor. Happy to share this journey with you, along with all the digressions and distractions along the way.

OAC 2014

The value of working in Series

Wednesday, December 12th, 2012
Escarpment #13 2009 24x24"

Escarpment #13 2009 24×24″

“The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.”
Joseph Campbell

Way at the start of my art life, all my passions were directed at exploring techniques and trying out new materials. I wondered how any artist could deliberately limit herself to one particular subject for two consecutive pieces, let alone an entire series! The infinite possibilities were too exciting. How could I possibly choose one over another? What if I missed out on something even better? And truly, the textile industry marketing machine is built on distraction, with new materials, techniques and equipment introduced every day. Overwhelmed and scattered, I began to realize there were fewer and fewer satisfying and tangible results for my constant industry. It was time to rethink the value of limits.

For me, this realization preceded a beautiful turning point. Now, I rarely do one-offs. Nearly all my new work somehow, either formally or loosely, fits into some kind of series. I want to write here about the value of working in series, not from a curator’s or collector’s point of view (because this is well covered in many excellent articles already), but from my own experience as an artist. How does it work, with respect to my creative path?

Perhaps I am predisposed to working in repetitive mode. At our family cottage, my favourite activity is to walk the very same 45 minute trail from our property to a rocky shore on the opposite side of the point. I do this at least once a day, at different times and in all weathers and seasons. While walking, I might mull over whatever is foremost in my mind, or just watch for butterflies. Each step is a rhythmic motion, a heartbeat, that carries me from one thought to the next. Invariably, by the time I reach the end of the point and back, some insight reveals itself that would not have come otherwise. For me, this trail provides a consistent platform from which to frame and recalibrate my inner world. Over and over, on the very same trail, I never fail to find something new.

As in life, so with art. A subject chooses me, and so the trail is set. When I first moved to the Niagara Escarpment area eight years ago, I found myself observing how the layers of unyielding rock supported certain vegetation and trees. What a rich vein of imagery and ideas to draw on! And so my Escarpment series was born:

Escarpment #1  2008 23x32"

Escarpment #1 2008 23×32″

The first pieces I produced really primed the pump. I loved working on the rock imagery in collage and appliqué, and I loved the results. Fresh ideas began to suggest themselves. With each new step, my thoughts turned to the metaphoric value of these images, like Triumph over Adversity:

Triumph  2011  30x40"

Triumph 2011 30×40″

No single piece in a series can possibly tell the whole story, and why should it? In this piece, I can tell the story of Courage:

Courage  2010  24x24"

Courage 2010 24×24″

In this one, I can talk about time and memory:

Between Now and Then  2009  36x48"

Between Now and Then 2009 36×48″

Or I can simply have some fun with colour and materials:

Escarpment #16  2009  24x24"

Escarpment #16 2009 24×24″

The possibilities are endless, series within series, and all kinds of spinoffs. Each piece is a step, like a sentence in a paragraph. It leads to the next, and so on, until the thought is complete. Sometimes it takes only two or three pieces. Other times, as with my ongoing Hawthorn series, the conversation continues intermittently for years and years.

Like all good things in life, the Escarpment series led to another, my Fertile Ground series. And I trust that eventually, by keeping to my trail, new ideas for series will grow, either building on the ones before, or shooting off on other tangents entirely. Working in series is a rhythmic, organic process that resonates with the pulse of nature. I feel the music of the Universe within me, with every step.

Do you like working in series? How did you start, and what are you working on now?

Fissure #5 2011  24x24" - another tangent!

Fissure #5 2011 24×24″ – another tangent!

 

Origami

Friday, November 9th, 2012

Ucluelet, Vancouver Island. An overcast, occasionally rainy day. We find ourselves on an intermittently disrupted path leading to the Wild Pacific Trail along the west side of the Island. My husband and I are feeling disoriented and disappointed, having expected something “wilder” on that part of the walk (note: The Wild Pacific Trail itself was magnificent!). We skirt the edge of a hotel property and it’s clear that soon much of the land around it will be devoted to yet more development. It’s somewhat depressing, and we are thinking of getting back to the car.

Just ahead and walking toward us is an elderly Japanese man. As he reaches us, he briefly bows, presses something into my husband’s hand, then silently moves on. This is his gift:

Origami sun, only one inch in diameter!

 

As I examine this exquisite origami sun, I am filled with questions. I want to catch up to him and thank him, ask him why. But he is long gone, having disappeared around the next bend as if he was never there.

Whatever his intent, the effect on me is pure radiance. My moody day is suddenly more beautiful, the world more welcoming, my steps lighter. My mind is changed by this gracious gift. I’ve hung it on my office lamp and relive the moment every day. And he will never know. I believe this is the best part of the gift. He has shared his wisdom, how to be truly free.

Healing Herbs

Sunday, June 17th, 2012

June, 2012. On my last weekend jaunt in Tobermory, I came across a very tempting jumble of books for sale at the local library. Nestled among the cookbooks, ancient hardcovers and fast-food novels I found the Rodale Herb Book, published in 1973. I am a collector of herb books. No matter how old the book, each offers a fresh view on cookery, medicals and dyes. I love nothing better than to sit back with a cup of tea and learn new stuff about herbs.

There are hundreds if not thousands of uses for herbs, but my all time favourite is tea-making. Every evening from spring through to fall, I’ve made a ritual of harvesting a bunch of herbs from my garden for fresh tea. This habit began years ago when I lived in London and had built up a great medicinal collection to experiment with. My poor sister who suffered from headaches and stomach problems was the frequent recipient of my brews. Eventually I picked up enough knowledge to help with minor ailments, and luckily didn’t kill anyone while doing it. I found the entire process of tea making from seed planting to drinking absolutely magical.

My favourite Scott Barnim mug filled with the combination of the day.

My herb collection is by no means comprehensive, but even with the few dozen I have, I can easily make a different tea each time. My technique? Around an hour or so after supper, I wander through the sections with a small knife, choosing an appropriate combination for the day. I collect a handful of 4-5 herbs, stems and all, or flowers with their centres. Lightly wash them in cold water. Put them in a little brown betty teapot, and pour freshly boiled water on top. Allow to steep for 5 minutes or so. Then strain into a mug (white mugs are best, so I can see the colour). All the drinks are very refreshing, even when they are hot. Sometimes I put the strained brew in the fridge for iced tea. People who are used to tea from dry leaves find that the same herbs taste very different when fresh. Once they’ve had fresh tea, it’s not easy to go back.

I do have some favourite combinations. Peppermint, bronze fennel, perilla and chamomile flowers make a great blend and it’s a beautiful clear jade colour. I like peppermint in all my teas. But the sky is the limit – recently I added lavender to the mix. Catmint is supposed to help with sleep, so when I’ve had a bout of insomnia, I will mix it with chamomile and spearmint. It tastes strong and bitter!!, but it works. Calendula flowers help with digestion. And recently I learned that the petals of calendula are edible and high in carotenoids including lutein – great for the eyes. I use them in salads all the time.

I believe that the benefit of fresh tea doesn’t come only from the drinking: all steps from planting to harvest are healing activities. I love knowing that the soil’s molecules absorbed by their roots will eventually become part of my body. Working my land, drinking water from our well, breathing oxygen purified from our trees, and even our septic system! make me feel that I participate in the cycles of nature.

If you would like to see my gardens and try out one of my teas, come and visit me during the Hamilton Open Garden Tour. My garden and studio will be open from June 30 to July 2, 2012 10-4 each day. There will be plenty of other gardens to see during that time period. I will post the link with map and info when it becomes available. I would love to see you!

My kitchen garden so far this year.

 

 

SOUL

Tuesday, May 29th, 2012

During workshops, one complex topic that always arises is the issue of copyright, or, more specifically, the moral implications of imitating the teacher’s personal design and style. Takes on this issue vary wildly, so I am going to speak here about my philosophy about teaching and outreach. In a future blog post, I will talk about image theft and copyright, because that covers a slightly different aspect.

Years ago, I took a one-week papermaking workshop with Tootsie Pollard (now deceased) at Haliburton Summer School. She was a lively little lady (Tootsie comes from tout–p’tit, meaning tiny-little in French), as round as she was tall, and full of binnes (French Canadian for beans 😉 ). Over the years she had developed a method of pulling thread grids through paper mulch to make elegant lacy papers. She even used this technique to make installations, which, because of the size of elements involved, was a true tour-de-force. The real magic is that she unstintingly shared every detail about her own research and technique. For a full week she offered her personal from-scratch recipes and methods, with no worry that perhaps we might take this information and become better-known, better-paid, and better-equipped for her signature forms than her, the humble artist who inspired it. Feeling honoured but horrified on her behalf, we broached the subject. This is how she replied: “When I teach my technique, I want it to go out into the world because I know that somewhere, somehow, it will come back to me in a different form, and then I will learn from it.” What a wonderful way to be! I loved this lady and I have since used and taught her technique in her honour, but the most important result of the class is that it helped form my own ideas about teaching and outreach.

Lace Paper from recycled paper

Artists in all mediums face a difficult path – the balance between honest artmaking and income, especially in cultures that do not fully support it, is a challenge. Becoming established is the result of years of exploration, experimentation, and physical and financial investment, to build a unique style and process. This is why some artists jealously guard their secrets, even to the point of patenting certain techniques. The huge investment in time and energy is easily diminished in the wrong hands, or, at the other end of the scale, can be taken to broader commercial success that does not benefit the artist who did all the ground work. It would be painful to me if participants in workshops took to copying and selling my work and imagery as their own, without permission or acknowledgement.

So, it all boils down to trust. Like Tootsie, I don’t hold back in showing all I have learned so far. In 15 years of mining this technique, I am still finding new ways to use it! When I teach it, I know participants will eventually ‘branch’ out in their own way. One of the beauties of this technique is that it can be mastered with simple equipment and inexpensive materials, yet the results, like painting, are always innately beautiful and very much linked to the maker’s personal voice and imagery. Of course, at the start, samples and designs will to look like mine. In fact participants might wish to use my work as models for their own personal growth, or for their own homes and as gifts. Plus, they might even teach the technique to others. I encourage it! I learn from what participants are doing during and after workshops – new ways of juxtaposing colour, or modifications of stitching, design ideas, and so on. It’s like the flame from a candle, igniting an infinite line of new candles, so that the light is never extinguished.

Soul is not a ‘vapour’ that floats away from the body when we die: Soul is what we leave behind in our actions and in their tangible results, and in the memories of those whose lives we touched. The light from my candle was sparked from an infinite number of others who came before. I believe eternal life results from passing it on, while we are yet fully grounded on this earth.

So this is where I stand with teaching. I try to show everything I know so far. I encourage everyone to play with it, enjoy it, and take it to any level that provides excitement and accomplishment. I want them to pass it on, and feel the inner peace and joy that comes from letting go and trusting in the wisdom of the universe.

Lace papers from a workshop, with thanks to Tootsie!

Positive thoughts about old machines.

Saturday, April 21st, 2012

My old sewing machine ‘miraculously’ recovered after a few hard pokes from an experienced hand (my husband’s) and I am back in business. One of the reasons I love these old machines is that they respond to old-fashioned tampering, like a hard knock or a tweak with a fork. Newer models are like hothouse orchids… they must be ‘sent away’, sometimes for weeks on end – devastating for someone who makes a living from them.

This situation reminds me of my current challenges with public speaking technology. In the past, I would bring along a carrousel of slides. We would put the carrousel at the top of a projector, and it would crank  down one slide at at time, sometimes two for an ‘interesting’ effect. If there was a problem you could always feed the slides in by hand, or change the bulb. Now, with Powerpoint and digital presentations, you need to make sure the host laptop has the same program. All the components must match. All the equipment must be in top form. And God help you if there’s a problem – your toolbox is useless in the face of this technology. Instead of a ‘possible save’, it becomes a ‘total loss’. Hey, not that I’m complaining… I love new technology! I love being able to label my images and add inserts.  I love those high-rez projectors and being able to add sound and video! But it’s always a balance, isn’t it?

Rosy Dawn #2 12×24″

Embracing imperfection

Monday, March 14th, 2011
CAN SPRING BE FAR AWAY?
First, the News of the Day: I’ve been asked by the Janome sewing machine company to be the Featured Artist for their booth at the upcoming International Quilt Festival in Long Beach, California slated for July 28-31, 2011. The theme this year is The Four Seasons – right up my alley! I will post more about this exciting event as the date approaches, and will let you know what I decide: should I go in person this time? It seems that my work shows up in many of these Quilt extravaganzas, but the maker (me) never seems to follow. Let’s just say, maybe it’s time.
On Perfection/Imperfection:
Many many times, viewers of my work make the comment that I must be a perfectionist. While I know this comes from a good place with the best of intentions, I find it incredibly puzzling. Without even looking hard, I see dozens if not hundreds of flaws: threads hanging, yarns in less-than-ideal positions, colours and contrasts that don’t work that well, stitching that could have been more in keeping with the lines…. not to mention lack of classic balance and ignoring the rules of design with predictable results. Just off the top of my head, I can think of all kinds of improvements to make in even the best of my pieces.
But I can let that be, and I’m not shy about it – I might even say that in some cases I allow these imperfections to flourish. Below is an excerpt from an interview I did a few years ago with Dr Bernie Herman, in answer to his question about how I feel about imperfection in my work:
“I humbly believe my art is a microcosm of what is happening each day on this Earth – that each piece I make captures (in the best way I can) one moment in a continuum of moments. It is not perfect but it buillds on previous experience, and is a step to the next level.
Just because one individual piece is not perfect does not mean it has less value. On the contrary, it has much to offer someone who is truly observing and searching – the mistakes, the inconsistencies, the omissions, the triumphs and failures – they are all there, plain to see. Each viewer enters it, contributes to it, and grows with it, in his own way. The viewer is a co-creator with the artist. This would not happen if the piece was perfect. The static state of Perfection is death for the soul.
Take the processes of Biology. A static grid could represent the orderly and mathematical process of cell division. But, during this process, even if everything proceeds as it should, surprises can happen at any point. How species adapt and evolve to deal with these surprises leads to their eventual wins and losses. Winners pass it on to the next generation. This is what drives evolution.”
Nothing moves without change.You could even say imperfection is BUILT IN to the DNA of life. And this fleeting moment is what I look for in other artwork too, not only in my own. The works I admire most contain within them a welcome mat, a place where I can cozy up and ride along with the maker. It is not about answers, but about intriguing questions that spur my imagination and challenge my preconceived notions.
So, no, I am absolutely NOT a perfectionist. Allowing and embracing imperfection and mistakes is how I evolve within my own work. This is what I want to pass on to viewers: I want to let them in, I want them to join me in my journey. I don’t have all the answers, but I believe that together we can explore those exciting questions, combine our strengths, and grow along together.
Till next time…. Lorraine

February 2011

Thursday, February 3rd, 2011

First, here’s a link to a nice interview with me on the World of Threads Festival website. This International festival is a bi-yearly event that happens in Oakville, a town not far from where I live. I’ve been participating in it for years as an exhibitor, speaker, and juror. Each year it gets better. I am getting harder and harder to please with textiles, and yet last year’s showing just blew me away!!! So if you are a textile artist I strongly recommend that you visit the event if you can, enter your work in Common Thread exhibition or keep an eye on what’s happening there (even if you’re from VERY far away)…. I have a strong feeling that this year’s festival is going to be a knockout.

Also, I will be teaching a 3-day workshop in London, Ontario this coming May, as part of the Gathering Threads conference organized by the Canadian Embroiderers’ Guild. I suggest booking early for any of their events and workshops – they are filling up fast!

OK! Down to the day’s discussion.

The Gathering Thread interview stirred up some great topics and got them buzzing around in my head. This is why I rarely turn down interviews, especially those that go beneath surface. First of all, it’s flattering that someone, anyone, might be interested in what I’ve got to say. Heck, how often does THAT happen? And the other thing is, especially with the written ones, they cause me to really think about the reasons why I feel as I feel. Most of the time, space constraints don’t allow me to put it all in the interview, so I’m going to make a list and do it here in my blog.

Why I love my technique

The most important quest for any artist is to find a medium that resonates with her vision, her abilities and her personality. I love my technique. I do.

And after a lot of thought, I believe this is why: from start to finish, there is a lot that ‘just happens’. That is to say, chance plays an important role in the finished product. For example, although I have a huge, and I mean huge, collection of fabrics, I rarely have ‘exactly’ the right colour envisioned for the piece. Or it’s there and can’t be found, in spite of the relative order of my storage system.

So what’s a girl to do? Go out and buy new materials each time? Not an option… the nearest fabric shop is a good 20 minutes’ drive and in the heat of the creative moment I am not a good risk behind the wheel. SO – I make do. Yes, I make do with what I have. And this just happens to be the most important and salient and exciting part for me: the medium itself, the fabrics I have now, become part of a ‘conversation’. I am no longer the dictator.

This way, my process begins to record where and how I am at the moment, with the materials I have, with the machines, studio and life that I’ve got. Me, and my life, not ‘just me’. By pushing it just a bit further, by using scraps that are just lying around, cutting them in a random way, throwing them on instead of carefully placing them, sewing over them in unplanned patterns and lines, letting the raw edges fray, going for BOLD rather than FUSSY… I live in the moment, turn the ego off and experience a direct connection with the muse, no longer getting in my own way.

Letting go is exhilarating. It means accepting the risk of failure. It means overcoming obstacles in new ways. It means learning to live with and embracing imperfection. It’s the ONLY way to exceed my own entrenched ideas. Plus, no problem worrying about running out of this or that. I KNOW nothing is going to impede my creative energy.

I think all life should be like that … as in art, so in life. Or so I hope. As I explore this idea in my art practice, every day, I hope snippets of ‘letting go’ will drift into my daily life. In that way, art is definitely my teacher.

I know there are all kinds of great new products out there, glues and sprays and sparkly things, tools and machines and threads and storage options… There are all kinds of ways I might be able to ‘improve’ how I work, do it better, faster, quieter, bigger…. but I resist, for all the reasons above: those ‘things’ will find their way to me if they are meant to. Otherwise, I am fine, content and free of want.

That’s all for now… It’s winter, the most beautiful of seasons. Stay warm and we’ll talk again soon.

JANUARY 2011

Sunday, January 16th, 2011

    Just lately I’ve been reading plenty of blogs, many of which are, at least to me, beyond inspiring. and beautifully written. They put me to shame! AND they are filled with all kinds of fascinating details. So where do I fit in? So far I’m not even updating by the month, let alone every day, and what to write about? My list of resolutions for this year was so long, I simply couldn’t face adding “To blog, every single day, or at least often enough to keep on radar.” Sadly, all I can do is my best, which is going to fall short of all expectations, including mine.

    Well, at least I can tell you a bit about what I’ve been up to for the last few weeks. Back in November a tall, beautiful couple approached me, having noted a photo of my work in the local newspaper a few years ago. (This happens a lot! The three year wait period is a standard joke around here lately.) They knew exactly what they wanted and where, and today my husband and I installed a triptych in their master suite. And I must say, it is gorgeous! Very few things are more satisfying than fulfilling a commission that ends up looking even better than anticipated.

     People often ask how it feels to do commissioned work. Many believe, sometimes rightly, that it must be uncomfortable and limiting for an artist to create on demand – particularly in cases where clients might wish to match their decor, or force her to deviate from her usual work. Well I’m here to say that in most cases, I’ve found the process fascinating and empowering. It’s all in how you look at it. It’s an opportunity to allow another person who may never have had the chance, to enjoy the power and joy of creation. My clients become active participants in the process, co-creators and collaborists. It’s a different way of working but not one bit less satisfying. One of the side benefits is that, more often than not, I get to stretch my own limits and try out ideas I may never have explored before. Maybe because of this attitude, I am starting to draw new clients who want customized art – I have had more commissions in the past year than ever before.

Having said that, I can empathize with horror stories I’ve heard from artists who were required to bend over (ahem) way too much. I was once asked if I would make speaker covers featuring Marilyn Monroe and Elvis… true story! Never mind… it gave me something to write in this blog, so, not a complete loss after all, eh? 
Or, there are artists whose vision is entirely focused on a particular path that will not accommodate other views. Perfectly understandable… most of the artists I know don’t like working on commission. As sensitive as artists can be, it is impossible to get inside a client’s head and ‘see’ what they want to see. Mistakes are made all the time. One of the ways I deal with this fear is that I don’t require clients to purchase the piece if it doesn’t suit them. Now I KNOW that’s something no one and I mean no one would ever recommend. But, doing it this way gives me peace of mind. I am then free to work on the piece to the best of my abilities, and finish it with my own aesthetic values at the fore. At least at that point I have satisfied myself. And although no client of mine has ever exercised that option, I am prepared to face the possibility with a calm spirit. For sure, if I love the work, it will eventually find a good home.

Well, there isn’t much else happening around Hillcrest Studio but Studio work. So far, my next registered event is a 3-day workshop that I will teach in London in May. You can get more details by checking Upcoming Events on this website.

So… till next time, hopefully sooner than later!

Lorraine

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