sad state of disappearing

In case you were wondering, I have been caught up by the new semester and finishing up exhibition preparations for ArtPrize. I had to reprint three of the from walking pieces since they were needed for two concurrent exhibitions, one at the Greater Grand Rapids Arts Council gallery and the Ohio: Fresh exhibition. I have rethought the map pin method and will be using a slick magnet and nail head method introduced to me by Mari Lacure during the Boston residency.

On the anthotype front. I pulled out the large  pokeberry pajama top with rain drips (Somnambulist #3, Clem Wolfham) and discovered it had faded badly. I suspect it might be the pokeberry pigment or its interaction with the paper. I will photograph its current state in the next few weeks.

As a response to this sad state of disappearing, I have installed black curtains over the Red Rose Pajama Pants on display at Sinclair Community College. I have to go back there tomorrow to iron out the folds in the drapes and install some hooks to allow viewers to view the piece unobstructed by the black curtains. I'll take a picture of the finished installation tomorrow. It is both censored and funerary in appearance but will visitors know they can look at it?

file under research

A slight detour form the goings on in the studio to report on a visit to the Harvard Museum of Natural History, http://www.hmnh.harvard.edu/on_exhibit.html. Another artist in residence at Emmanuel College, Mari Lacure (www.marilacure.com),  suggested this visit a few days ago. We took the red line out to Cambridge, braved the Sunday crowds at Harvard Square and arrived at the museum with none of my usual "getting lost" mishaps (like last week's trip to the thrift store). The draw for Mari was the glass flower display which for me is a slight misnomer. While there are glass flowers are on display, the creations of this collection feature leaves, stems, fruits, and the nearly invisible parts of the plants needed for reproduction. The models were expertly created in glass by the father and son team of Leopold and Rudoph Blaschka. Almost all the items have survived the 125 years since their commission.

The difficult thing to express is that this trip was unplanned  (at least until a few days ago) yet so beneficial to the work that I am doing at the residency. Looking at the models made by the Blashkas, struck a couple of notes for me. The first is that I know the structures that fascinate me so in this botanical world can be seen at many scales of magnification. The general shape of a leaf or flower visible to the eye or the forms contained within a younger structure that is much smaller and shorter lived, are all possible subject matter for my photography. Some technical hurdles lay ahead which will require me to leave my favorite imaging method of choice, the flat bed scanner, and work with photomicroscopy  techniques to realize these smaller scales. The other “note” struck was a reminder of another reason for doing what I do, the slight threat embedded within these fantastical forms. They need to create a bit of fear in me because of their strangeness; a reminder of how I would sneak a peak out of my bedroom window at night at the risk of catching sight of some monster or alien being.

Last but not least some art history. My wife is a painter and she has shared with me her knowledge of the history of pigments. I had a small agenda going through the rock and mineral room. A whole blog entry could be written on magnatite and meteorites but it is important to go through that candy store of geology with a purpose. The purpose being to locate and photograph an example of Lapus Lazuli, the blue pigment of the ancients. So here it is, for Bridgette, one of three specimens in their collection but by far the one with the most intense blue.