The Strata Series is born from a large public artwork in UAA’s Engineering and Industry building. Typically an art process starts from small works to larger works. Here it was the opposite. I started large (Ingenerare / 12’ x 14’). I really enjoyed working on that piece, incorporating signage from our built environment. I wanted to revisit the process on a smaller scale and see what would develop. I had come back from a 21 day rafting trip through the Grand Canyon where the strata of geological time constantly surrounded me.
The Affectus Series is ongoing. Every so often, I create another ‘portrait’ that visually speaks to states of mind, disposition, feelings and mood. The horse collars are the framing device that speaks to what we are in harness to - in this case, some of our present responses to climate change.
The Drawn and Quartered Series documents some of our past choices and events. Some works expose a history of colonial neglect of the land and other species. Other works are reminders of the beauty and mystery of nature—from large natural events to the smallest species.
What led you to creating this work?
Much of these series were made during the pandemic. I’ve found the pandemic event to be a kind of warmup for a much larger, more complex event. It’s been a useful time to contemplate the much larger issue of climate change that will effect everything. Every species, every landscape.
Do you often work on multiple series at the same time?
I usually have several works going in the studio at the same time. I find it useful to be able to spin to another work when I hit a problem. This ‘pin ball’ art process allows the problem to rest in the back of my mind while I work on another piece. Usually when I then go back to the problem, I’ve found new ways to resolve it.
Typically, I don’t work on one series exclusively. However, the Strata Series is the exception to this rule. I created that series during the pandemic.
What are you working on now?
Currently I am a finalist in 2 public art opportunities. So I’m refining concepts, 3D modeling and getting estimates for construction.
Is there anything else that you would like to share with the IGCA community?
My creative work reflects a personal view that an artist’s perspective is applicable in many venues. My pursuits as an artist include visual art, public art projects, set design, neighborhood-initiated environmental design and grass roots community art support. Just as moving through a day requires different combinations of muscle and intent, so too, my various artistic pursuits require flexibility in the imaginative process.
My own studio work, the most solitary of my creative pursuits, is similar to walking backwards. I cannot directly observe my progress toward a destination. I “see” where I’ve “been” through the trail left from assembling, painting, reading, writing and conversation. This trail grows clearer as I move into the unknown. By observing these markers, I eventually sense my arrival when the last view strikes my internal eye as a destination. When successful, this artistic mode can lead me beyond my own limited cartography to a surprising landscape. But it is always risky. There are times that I never reach a destination and find myself simply wandering in the wilderness. But it is there, within this process, that I make the discoveries that can lead to what I desire. To bear witness to what cannot be said and hopefully give voice through a visual poetry to what cannot be seen.
The media I use are as wide-ranging as the scale, scope and emotional content of my pursuits. No material is off limits. Everything is available for the creative act. The key is to follow the nerve of one’s own being and look around for the material that best serves each exploration. Looking, and sometimes waiting, till the right thing or moment arrives are crucial for me. My satisfaction is to unite disparate objects. I look for visual metaphors that embody life’s journey – the search, the thresholds, the pauses for reflection, the trials and tribulations found in daily living. My instincts in art making are similar to the Medieval alchemist, an allusive hope of turning the lead of the familiar into the gold of something that transcends what we assume that we know.
