August 7 – September 2, 2009

Prêt-à-Porter 
Katherine Soucie and Amber Churchill

"San Soucie" rightly describes Katherine Soucie’s clothing line, so easy to wear and care for, no worry. Amber Churchill sticks to the simple name of Amber Jewellery, though on Salt Spring Island her Sweet Something’s Gallery is a nice flight of fancy, though her jewellery is by no means just something. But names are the fun part of this creative partnership. What matters is the shared craftsmanship and its visceral language, learnt by doing and full of purpose.

Katherine Soucie has a very clear purpose, for she is a revolutionary. She started back at home in Ontario, making outfits from vintage clothes with the definite purpose of fitting the clothes to the personality of each person. Naturally she went off to study fashion design, but the range of available materials was boring. On the basis of ‘If you can’t get it, make it’, she moved to Vancouver and at Capilano College began to learn how to create what is now her special line of clothing. Simply put she reclaims unworn nylon hosiery, and dyes and deconstructs it. Then the surface designs are silk-screened and heat-sealed onto cloth before being reconstructed into yardage. Unique? Sure. And note that Katherine abhors waste.

Amber Churchill’s purpose is to create inspiringly bold jewellery from semi-precious stones and paua shell. The colours of the stones are rich and important, the shells a delicate pink or grey, and each pendant is, in different ways, a presence by a delicate woven network of very tiny beads. I note Katherine’s pure white dress, very simple, the surface broken only by widely spaced, stitched, black lines running vertically top to bottom. From the slightly ruffled neckline hangs a beautiful pendant of three large ammonite stones – and the dress is complete. By the way, Amber is an immigrant from Ontario and her jewellery reflects her joy in the beauty of BC’s West Coast. In her Sweet Something’s Gallery she proudly presents jewellery drawn from all over Canada.

For a change I have invited two guests for their comments this month, Diana Sanderson and Suzanne Nairne. Diana established her studio/shop on Granville Island in 1986 where she creates casually elegant classic garments from her hand-woven, hand-dyed silk ikat. Suzanne creates innovative silver jewellery which has honesty of creative work which comes from her heart. Diana and Suzanne are having a joint show together at our gallery next year. Here are their comments on this show.

Diana writes:

Viewing Prêt-à-porter with Katherine Soucie and Amber Churchill renewed my excitement about clothing. Their works are a wonderful contrast. Katherine’s dresses are light and flowing. Amber’s jewellery is big and bold. Brought together they are perfectly complimentary.

At first I thought the necklaces might be too heavy for Katherine’s gowns but on second look and seeing the careful pairings I was wrong. I would have loved to see women wearing and moving in the clothes and jewellery. These form-fitting dresses invite bodies of all sizes to bring them to life, break into dance and walk in the breeze.

Katherine’s designs obtain a deep complexity from her mastery of a process of screening waste hosiery fabric and assembling pieces to create wearable collage. The result invites the viewer to study the detail without losing the drama of the overall impression created by the flowing fabric.

Amber too relies on collages of carefully chosen large exotic stones and beads to create a powerful and integrated statement.

My only (and mild) complaint is that it would have been nice to see some of the clothing accessories that Sans Soucie produces along with the dresses. I think they could have served to complete the overall effect that she and Amber have achieved. In summary, these designers should have strong appeal to the confident woman who seeks unique fashions.


Suzanne writes:

Looking at Amber Churchill’s jewellery at the Prêt-à-porter show (shared with clothing designer, Katherine Soucie) at Circle Craft gallery, I was struck again by the incredible breadth of contemporary jewellery. Stones, beads, shells exclusively are the elements combined in these pieces – common enough materials in jewellery now and always – but what show stopping pieces she creates.

Amber takes beading to a new level. The focal point of her pieces is often a large, irregularly shaped flat cross section of a stone such as Brazilian agate, amethyst or citrine in hot fuschia or pink, bright greens, strong blues and purples. They show her colour palette to be one of bold drama. She frames these by beading rows of tiny seed-like beads around the entire shape of the stone 3 or 4 times; the inner row next to the stone may be a contrasting colour i.e. 3 rows of black, inside row of gold colour. The pendant is then hung by strands of beads very thickly and texturally done in the case of the larger pieces, some of her stones are over five inches. These large-scale works evoke breastplates, either ethnic or ancient, at the same time as referencing today’s uber sense of reality. The enormous stones put the environment front and centre as well.

In two pendants, connecting asymmetrical circular ammonite fossils bordered with smokey black beads work well together to create a dark, mysterious mood. Two other of my favourites incorporate raw citrine, one triangular the other a wavy rectangle, both with crystallized surfaces and a certain chunky depth. Here, the six rows of goldish/bronze coloured beads wrap the sides to encase the stone, leaving only the irregular crystallized surface exposed; the feeling is that of an amulet or talisman.

Amber’s work strikingly complements Katherine Soucie’s innovative dresses in colour, texture, mood, but especially boldness, there is almost a performance ambience to the show, as if the clothing would fly off the forms and the jewellery off the wall to dance.

Reading Diana’s perceptive comments I think how fortunate Vancouver is in the wealth of what an American arts writer called "the expressive life." The phrase turned up in a brief review of a really interesting book, The Craftsman, published last year. The author, Richard Sennet, is an American sociologist who teaches at MIT, London School of Economics and New York University. Much to his surprise his book is selling well in the world of business. Why? Because he is talking about how the work of hands can inform and enhance that of the mind. "Computers," he says, "should be our servants, not our replacements. Simulation is all very well, but it won’t give us that moment of Oh! I could do this very differently!"

Sennet has much to say on this subject, and he emphasizes the need to give importance to vocational training in the made-by-hand skills which are the art of craft. So I celebrate the opportunities which foster our "expressive life", not just the post secondary institutions but the studios of professionals. Diana Sanderson mentions her assistants with pleasure, and many perspective glass blowers have gained experience and confidence in David New-Small’s studio on Granville Island, and of course Katherine Soucie now has two or three young assistants who, undoubtedly, are learning, and having fun.

Definitely the profession of craftsmanship has grown up over the last thirty years and these skilled citizens are playing an important role in our society. Enjoy the show!

Thelma Ruck Keene

July 3 - August 4, 2009

Earth and Pine
Linda Doherty and Lynnette Gullackson

Linda Doherty and Lynnette Gullackson have created a show of work, which wordlessly speaks with strength and beauty about combining differences and living with change. Linda and Lynnette are sisters who were born and raised in Dawson Creek but now live far apart, who have had very different adult lives, and who have concentrated on developing particular, different skills. Linda is a potter, Lynnette a fibre artist; and their show could simply be a pleasing mix of media. But Earth and Pine is different in two ways: the ceramic forms are made by Linda in her studio and then sent in batches to Lynnette in her studio for the important infusion of pine needles.

For thousands of years artisans have left records of their lives on cliff faces and cave walls in huge metaphoric forms and in tiny miniatures. With imagination and ingenuity, artisans used whatever materials were at hand, unaware that time might give those materials a special significance. But now, in 2009, Linda and Lynnette ask viewers to take note of the pine needles. The needles are not just fancy decorations; they are the essence of each piece, reflecting the beauty and power of life in all its purposes as well as the impermanence of what we feel should be forever, but is not.

The needles were gathered by both sisters in northern BC where the great Ponderosa Pines once flourished in an environmental balance of warm summers and bitter winters. The balance protected the pine trees by killing the mountain pine beetles every winter. But now environmental change brings warmer winters, and the balance of survival has been tipped in favour of the beetle.

Change of any kind usually sets up a sort of chaos in which differences too easily become matters of life and death–like now. Instead Linda and Lynnette offer the products of their differences and the strength of the big pine needles as a reminder and a hope for change. I think of William Blake noting some 200 years ago, "Without contraries there is no progression."

That is a timely introduction for my guest this month, Penny Birnam, whose ceramic animal heads were first created as a reminder of endangered species. Now she makes no distinction among animals here, endangered, or gone. She is a long-time, active member of Circle Craft, and a valued colleague of the Gallery Committee. She writes:

This is one of the most beautiful and most professionally composed shows I've ever seen. There is a photomontage on the wall, a book of words about the process, and a lovely arrangement of the vessels in small related groups with just enough flowers to soften it. And then there is the work itself.

Ceramics and basketry are both traditional crafts with similar uses of containment, but they are different in that one is hard, impervious, and will last forever - in fact pottery is a common archeological artefact-; and the other is soft and flexible, subject to wear and decay - time is hard on baskets. Yet these two media have been seamlessly combined to make objects that appear to be as natural and as beautiful as the land and trees that inspired them. In each of the 50 works in the show, the colours of the two materials are perfectly continuous or complementary, the textures are a lovely foil for each other, and the added details are exactly right.

The collaboration has worked so well that you can feel the harmony in Linda and Lynnette's relationship through the integrity of each vessel. And then there's the mastery of the crafts! Linda's contribution is the ceramic part, done over two years as she taught a variety of classes at the Shadbolt centre. Each class in a different firing technique resulted in a few bowls for this show, yet this wide range of process has resulted in a very unified body of work in earth tones with subtle variations in gloss and texture, much like rocks from the same mountain will vary but still be recognizably from the same place. She has used marbling, slab building, impressed patterns, throwing and altering, so the shapes and textures are really interesting, but they never overpower the future character of the vessel as a collaborative piece. These pots, with a row of tiny holes round their oddly unfinished rims, were shipped from Stump Lake to Fort Nelson for the next step, a leap of faith halfway across the province. And then there's the basketry, so responsive to the ceramic forms. Ponderosa Pine needles are about the length of two hand's breadths and grow in bundles of three held together by a cap at the branch end. Lynnette has collected and dyed these in the same subtle shades as the pots, then woven them in coils on the top to complete them in this delicate and tough medium. Linda said, " You know, she often finishes my sentences too! " The variation in colour and texture of the coils is carefully chosen to complement the ceramic part of the vessel, and the tying fibre, sisal, linen or sinew, forms another layer of visual interest, becoming an important part of the overall design. Some have other materials woven in, lapis and tigereye beads or horsehair or shell, and the restraint, discipline and sensitivity of the weaving makes the completed forms a pleasure to consider. And then there's the presentation.

The pots have names, necessary in such a long distance collaboration, derived from process, function or something suggested by their appearance, like Pinto pot or Soda Pot, or Mongolian Pot which has a yurt like woven top and a knot of horsehair with ends like a Fu Manchu moustache. On the Shawl Pot, the coils loop down like a shawl round the shoulders, and the caps are left on the bundle of needles, suggesting weight and warmth. The Clamshell, formed like a giant clam, with feet which have waves on them, has a fibre top which perfectly reflects the clay bottom and a mass of little wild Lupins foaming out of it. The flowers are a wonderful part of the presentation, not too many of them as they are not really recommended as a use in case the woven parts get soaked. They are wild flowers; Hawkweed, Lily, Lupin, Paintbrush, fitting the natural unpretentious harmony of the show, yet their beauty in each case emphasizes the beauty of the container. And then there's you, the viewer.

The more you look at this show, the more there is to see. As you're admiring the relationship between the belly and the lip, you notice the gradations of colour in the top are perfectly mirrored in the bottom, and the you see how the shadows made by the pine needles fall on the smooth surface below. Each observation leads to a new discovery, and soon you are a peaceful observer of a beautiful world. You want to be in that place. Go, girl, go.

Thank you Penny!

Thelma Ruck Keene

June 5-30, 2009

OFF THE GRID
Surface Design

The pure white of the central piece in this remarkable show hangs in a glorious tumble, as if thrown from the bed of giants. It is the work of Katherine Soucie, the show curator, who has a passion for creating new textiles out of unlikely materials. This kind of passion is why textile artists slip off the grid to explore how the textile surface itself can be transformed to serve a new purpose. As Katherine says, "We shift. We transform. We go off the grid aesthetically, conceptually or environmentally."

Our artists have been well introduced in the section preceding these comments and my guest this month, Mary Lou Trinkwon, could not be a better exponent of their work. But first take a quick look at the labels attached to each piece which give the artists’ names, the titles of their work, and a neat, minimal description of the process and materials used. To the uninitiated much of this may be puzzling; but don’t despair. Just let the words tickle your fancy and sense the imagination, skill, scope and professionalism of these renowned Canadian women who live and work in our province. Here they are:

Lesley Richmond: FOREST Cotton/silk fabric. Heat reactive base, metal paint.

Now it’s time for Mary Lou Trinkwon to elucidate what is implied by the list of gallery labels. Mary Lou opens up the history of textile exploration, the multiplicity of ideas, and the astonishing momentum of human invention and imagination which sometimes hints at Alice in her Wonderland. But first, Mary Lou introduces herself.

As the coordinator of and surface design instructor within the Textile Arts Programs at Capilano University my main concerns are the dynamic approaches and applications of textile processes and the delivery of these processes and methods to my students. My most recent body of work took the form of a Masters degree in Education from Simon Fraser University. Here I focused my concerns within the area of relationality between teacher/student/subject. This focus led to an inquiry into the perceptions of the theoretical and the applied nature of textile art curriculum, from both a faculty and student perspective.

As a maker, my work often embodies emotional content, visually communicated through installation strategies borrowed from the everyday and displayed as environments that the viewer inhabits.

The annual Surface Design Association conference in Kansas City, who’s theme this year was Off The Grid, raised questions such as, what Grid, who’s Grid, and is it better to be on or off a grid. The four featured artists at this years’ SDA conference, El Anatusui, Alice Kettle, Jennifer Angus and Raymond Materson, certainly provoked us to think about textile based work in expansive terms and put into question the "Grid", and its assumptions about culture, gender, material, technique, format, research and content. Raymond Materson, who’s surface design career was born behind bars in a maximun security prison – far off the grid of mainstream art education - fashioned an embroidery hoop out of a tupperware container and pulled apart socks with which to embroider his narrative miniatures. His now very successful career has not motivated him to change his methods, materials or format. He still uses his Tupperware hoop, pulls apart socks for thread, and boxer shorts remain his cloth of choice. Alice Kettle, also an embroider, employs threads as a painting medium, her works are done by machine on a much larger scale than Mattersons’ by about 4,000%. Her newest works have moved away from the 2d embroidered surface as she now cuts and collages her portraits. Kettle’s new works retains if not accentuates, the emotional content in these fractured and re-constructed works. As a very established and well known artist, Kettle moved off her own grid when she began to cut her embroidered works.

The next two featured artists, at the SDA conference Jennifer Angus and El Anatsui, move off of the conventional textile materials grid by employing unusual materials for their large-scale works. In Small Wonder, Secrets of a Collector, Angus creates patterns of wallpaper and cloth, by substituting insects for graphics. She stages environments that you walk into and inhabit as you would a museum or eccentric collectors’ home. El Anatsui creates his "cloths" from aluminum wrappings from liquor bottles, tops’ from milk tins and other fragments of discarded materials. Anatsuis’ "cloths" are made on a grand scale - some up to 30 feet across by 15-20 feet long. His magnificent works appeal to the senses on an aesthetic level, they are simply so much more beautiful than their original function could have ever predicted.

The reason why I have taken the time to review the artists works from the SDA conference in Kansas City, is because, that is the context with which I now view Off the Grid: Vancouver. I came away from the SDA conference with questions about the usefulness and the very nature of grids. Specifically, I wondered, how do Grids serve artistic creation and development? By asking this question I began to think about grids as a series of parallel and intersecting lines. From there I imagined matrixes and complex 3d forms that build and fold into each other as organic shapes. Paralleling grid lines with artists and their practices, led me to further think about how we interrelate to one another and how we relate and respond to our own artistic practices.

Drawing from this conceptualization and thinking about the concept of Off The Grid: Vancouver, I see this show as a paralleling of artists who are both part of a local grid, that of the Circle Craft Cooperative, as well as the grid of the Surface Design Association. Working off the grids of convention and always working to push themselves away from their own foundational grids of tradition, technique and materials are Yvonne Wakabayashi, Lesley Richmond and Katherine Soucie. Lesley Richmond’s work has always been inspired by nature. Her most recent works have developed out of her investigation into the natural process of decay, which gives an unusual balance of realism and abstraction. Her recent tree series create eerily beautiful atmospheres through colour and fabric modification using the devore process. Yvonne Wakabayashi’s work moves off the traditional grid within the area of Shibori and moves onto the contemporary grid in her search for unusual materials and objects with which to shape her 3D forms. Katherine Soucie’s work intersects with the grids of materials and technique and has over the years engaged with textile practices within the areas of fashion, performance and more recently conceptual art. God Bless You reads as a heavenly quilt, a gesture of the most angelic kind, yet a bit crunchy, as only polypuff can be. The intersection between the heavenly and the earthly create an unusual tension between the precious and perceived harmlessness of textiles and the horrendous environmental damage that the textile industry is responsible for.

The works of all the artists here at some point intersect with the grids of fashion, performance, environmentalism, literature, and ancient spiritual practices but especially the works of Angelika Werth, Jessica de Haas and Ulrieke Benner are striking in this regard.

Angelika Werth creates exquisitely constructed/reconstructed sculptures/wearables. In this Tent Dress series, the combination of tent material, haute couture construction and a Christopher Marlowe poem in And We Shall Sit Upon The Rocks, said to be the most popular love poem around 1564, is a dizzying intersection of many and seemingly unrelated grids. These works hold together so well, in their structure and resplendent presentation, that we don’t question the continuity. It is an authoritative ordering of the world that we accept. Jessica de Haas’s work Biodiversity speaks to the very variety of life forces within this show itself and the very necessity of diversity for survival. de Haas’s work intersects and plays upon the principles of Feng Shui in her Funk Shui line of wearables, which intersect with performance, art, fashion and the idea that wearables and cloth itself can be energy giving. Along similar lines Ulrieke Benner gives us Violet Dreams, referencing the healing capacity, and the balance between physical and spiritual energies, which the colour violet embodies. Both of these felt works trigger an immediate visceral response, of touch, comfort and warmth. Both of these felt works fall off the mainstream fashion grid as they move towards a spiritual or metaphysical grid.

As artists we move across, along, and within grids and structures in the form of tradition, technique and ideology throughout our lives. As we engage in creative endeavors we explore the gaps, the transitions and transgressions between our chosen and imposed grids. We take risks, make leaps, we sometimes forget who we once were. As we engage and are inspired by others, as we engage and are inspired by our materials we free fall into or resist these grids or structures, but either way they exist as starting points from which we move from. It is precisely this dynamic process that we see in Off the Grid: Vancouver. These artists fuel their own creative process by taking risks, making leaps reinventing themselves along the way. Viewing this show has helped me gain incite into the necessity of falling Off the Grid in order to gain new perspectives, to learn new things and to develop as an artist.

What Mary Lou has written reminds me of three questions concerning the challenges confronting creative work. "Why the process is relevant to the finished piece? What is the impetus behind this work? Why is the work significant?" This hits the bull’s eye being "off the grid." – exploring process, driven by the impetus of hanging in there, and finally the significance of pushing your talents, and in the doing discovered unexpected other possibilities.

I had just finished writing that last paragraph when Yvonne Wakabyashi brought me a copy of a book entitled "Art Textiles of the World: Canada", published in Great Britain this year, 2009. It is one of a series. The countries so far covered are Australia, Great Britain, Korea, Scandinavia, Japan, Netherlands, and USA. Canada features twenty artists, and four are from British Columbia. They are Lesley Richmond, Ruth Scheuing, Joanna Staniszkis, and Yvonne Wakabyashi. Each artist has ten photographs of their work. It is a beautiful book, and Lesley Richmond has left a copy for show visitors to enjoy – and feel a quiet gratitude for everyone involved.

And ‘everyone’ includes the craft teachers in the colleges which have recently been given university status. Capilano University, Kwantlen Polytechnic University, University of the Fraser Valley, and Kootenay School of the Arts are where several of our artists have studied and currently teach. It’s been a long haul to make the art of craftsmanship a respectable profession, but as an old Persian saying notes, "Everything is difficult, but everthing is possible."

Thelma Ruck Keene

May 5 - June 3, 2009
HYBRIDS
Susan Cain

Had Susan Cain lived 200 years ago in an unsophisticated village off the beaten track she might well have been dunked in the local pond to see if she was, or was not, a witch. Her Hybrids, you see, are truly magical. They stand about the height of a ruler, supported by a lively tail, sometimes flower-tipped. Their bodies are formed by a mix of media, reminiscent of the childish guessing game which asked, "Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?" If the ‘it’ had been one of these enchanting Hybrids, the answer could gleefully have been "All three – like us!" Definitely like us, a mixed media of strength and weakness, mischief and menace, fear and happiness. My dictionary tells me that the word ‘hybrid’ originated from mating a tame sow and a wild boar. But Susan has given these small sculptures an extraordinary life of their own. The button eyes differ surprisingly in expression, the slim stick arms extend with particular purposes, and, do the few who bare their white teeth, intend a smile or a warning?

I wrote that long paragraph after coming home from the opening of Susan’s show, determined not to lose the immediacy of my response. Then I read what Susan had given me to fill out the brief bio about graduating in English in New York, moving to the creative excitement of San Francisco, studying textiles at Berkeley, joining a puppet company, and combining everything – fabric shaping, puppetry, myth, and literature – into designing her first puppets. Then in 1980 she moved to Hornby Island. In this huge change of place Susan and her puppets shifted and developed into a work process divided between puppets and sculpture, whose boundaries she finds often merge and converse.

Susan writes, "Hornby is a vibrant creative community, closely knit due to its isolation, and populated by independent, interesting, and eccentric people, many of them artists. I am inspired by Hornby's natural beauty; its abundant wildlife and all that washes up on its beaches! In the summer the feeling of isolation disappears and we are inundated by the world. Which is stimulating. I am married to a painter and our studios are open to visitors in the summer. The community has built a beautiful and successful farmer's market, which has become a lively gathering place, and a boon to the economy of growers and artists.

About my work: I am interested in puppets for their sculptural and playful qualities. They promote communication. "Kids" of all ages love them, and I sell many of them to teachers, librarians, and psychologists. I am pleased that they are useful. Parallel to my puppets, I work on my sculptures. They are improvised and intuitive as I react to my materials, thoughts, and feelings that arise as I work. I usually work in series—each series is an extended exploration of a particular idea, material or technique.

My Hybrids are crossover human-animal forms that ‘express a range of physicality and emotions as they explore their tribal loyalties and the effects of cross-pollination.’ As they accumulated in my studio, they began to feel as if they were inhabiting a parallel universe—a world that I might catch out of the corner of my eye—where wings morph into hands, and tails become flowers. Canines become felines become insects become party girls. Their anxieties, fears, aggressions, and sensuality are close to the surface. They are tricksters. They were a delight to make. They are tautly wrapped and sewn over their armatures—brightly buttoned, subversive, and rowdy. Wild and unzipped. Spring metamorphosis. By the way, the beautiful felt that I incorporated into these pieces was made by Ann Marie Andrishak."

Here now is another voice, that of my guest this month, Diana Jefferies, owner and begetter of Flexible Theatre, which she set up in Vancouver in 2004. What follows is taken from Diana’s website, which is well worth reading, but too long to quote here. My quote is from her mission statement. "We probably all remember endless games of make-believe; creating characters out of bits and pieces from around the house in order to create and recreate a world for ourselves that we are able to manipulate and control. By applying that sort of creative process and attitude of childhood, we create through puppetry an innocent soul that I believe is what is saved in some part in every adult person."

On Susan Cain’s show, Dianna writes:

In conclusion, here is a postscript Susan Cain added to what she wrote about her work. It is based on three questions written by craftswoman Bettina Matzkuhn titled "A Challenge to Craftspeople". Susan found the questions valuable and explains why.

Question 1 asks: Why is the process relevant to the finished piece?

I discovered that by using the tail to create a tripod with the legs, I could make these pieces self-supporting. The tail adds a dynamic curved and colourful element and created the idea of hybrids. Part animal, part human. My process is intuitive, discovering the piece as I work on it – beginning with the head, which I make separately. The head is the beginning of the character of the piece, but as the form and personality evolves, I can make changes to the head to accommodate different ideas that come up.

Question 2 asks: What is the impetus behind the work?

I had a small sculpture in my studio that I made a year ago. It had been around for a few years and I kept changing and adding to it. The final addition was a small flower tail that also reminded me of a propeller. I loved this piece and wanted to take the flower idea further. But it took awhile to find a way to incorporate the flower into these new pieces. I had to make several before the flower idea grew organically out of the structure.

Questions 3 asks: Why is this work significant?

It is significant to me, because I love its wild and expressive energy. Considering my labour-intensive practice, it is a challenge to make a piece that feels loose and energetic! I am also happy with its other worldly quality—the strangeness of the characters. They seem like comic book characters to me, or actors on a stage with rich internal lives.

Thelma Ruck Keene

April 3 – May 5, 2009

MIGRATORY JOURNEYS
Naoko Takenouchi

Naoko Takenouchi has filled the gallery with a gathering of twelve earthborn forms, sculptured and sandblasted from hand-blown glass. The human faces, birds, wings, and shells stand alone or are subtly merged into a whole, each dependent on, yet independent of the other. They create a palpable sense of connection and interchange – and of the unexpected. Look for the etched lines and small shapes, which move like thoughts within the curve of a wing. A graceful female head has a very, very tiny red bird in the corner of the eye. Two paired heads are mounted on such slender rods they seem to float in mid-air. A wing soars skyward from a shell. I like the titles: ‘Above the Coast Line’; ‘Calling’; ‘Earth, Sea, and Air’; and ‘Soul Mate’. The glass is blue, amber, or white; the wall is a background of warm, deep red.

Unexpectedly the red wall presents me with a visual recollection of the rich red soil of Devon and Cornwall in England. So, with migratory journeys in mind, the wall suggested a kindly place on which the sculptured thoughts might stand firm or return to after flight. I confess to this flight of fancy, for that’s what happens with creative interchange. It sets your own creative wheels turning, as bird migration did for Naoko.

Naoko writes, "I went through a long period of difficult events and challenges, which were so overwhelming that, for protection, I was partially disconnected from my emotions. Then, about two years ago, bird migrations inspired me to start a series called ‘Migratory Journey’. I was drawn to the birds’ mysterious navigational system and their strong instinct to fly astonishing distances every year. It was the voice of my soul letting me know of my strong desire to fly to the place where I could find myself again."

How come this sense of loss? I go back to the beginning of Naoko’s story. "After graduating in glass design, I spent time with Swedish artists, attracted to the freedom of their work, its colour, and the magical process of sandblasting glass figures. I tried to use this freedom to escape from the extremely tight society of Japan where every individual, especially women, is pressured by society and family to behave like everyone else. I tried to resist but did not know how to free myself. Then, in 1989, I came to Vancouver for a working holiday in David New-Small’s glass studio. I intended to stay only one year. But David gave me all kinds of opportunities to try and develop my work, and, when the year was over, I realized that creative expression was how I kept my sense of self alive. Also, if I had to stop making things I would lose my soul and be nobody. With this anxiety and desperation, I had to make several journeys back to Canada before at last I received landed immigrant status."

This passionate statement reminds me of what Michel Montaigne observed 400 years ago: "The greatest thing in the world is to know you belong to yourself." Being French, he put it his way, "La plus grand chose du monde, c’est de savoir être à soi." Whatever the language, this search is universal, for the artist who makes ‘things’ that ‘greatest thing’ is essential, whether you blow glass or a trumpet. It is something that grows with the making, a basic visceral understanding, which feeds imagination to create and create anew. Naoko’s lovely forms come from this source. Of course, they came from her self, her soul.

Interconnection is imperative for Naoko, and she admits it was tough not only because she had no chance to develop her sense of identity, but also, faced by a language barrier, she didn’t know how to connect to her new society. For a long time, she was confused and depressed. But slowly help came, especially from a summer workshop in 1997 in Aitlin. "It was a magical experience…My heart opened up…and I found inside myself the solid ground of values that go beyond time and place."

About her migratory journeys, Naoko has this to say, "I see that my strength and character comes from my disadvantages. If I hadn’t lost my ability to communicate verbally I might not have been focused on visual communication today. If I had come from a culture that allowed me more self-expression…I might not have sought that through my work." But last year she began to have more clear directions and ideas about her work. In the spring, she took part in a show of work by three artists, all born and raised in Japan. "They immigrated to Canada to devote their life to working in the traditional craft media of clay and glass. Now our work is an exploration between Eastern and Western philosophy and culture to find a new junction and discovery beyond traditional measurement."

That was last year. Now she is exploring the combination of various media: glass (as a spiritual expression) supplemented with wood, fabric, paper, concrete, metal, and other natural materials. In 2001, she created an installation with these materials for show at the Canadian Craft Museum and enjoyed the scope the show gave to design and build something big. She writes, "Now I am getting ready for another long flight. I am very curious and excited." I have no better words to quote in conclusion since being curious and excited is what the craftsmanship of making ‘things’ is about.

But I have a less cheery postscript. This month my guest contributor should have been Jeff Burnette – or Joe Blow, when in his big studio on Parker Street. No, he isn’t dead, but his two great glory holes (or furnaces) where Naoko blows her glass, may be turned off. Jeff has been blowing glass for 30 years. Nine years ago he built Joe Blow. Gas was cheap, and it was possible to keep the furnaces burning night and day. Now the furnaces alone eat up $2,000 a month.

Jeff is trying hard to devise some way to keep Joe Blow available, not only for his own exquisite glass, but also for everyone else’s. Vancouver has no college course in glass blowing, and all the glass artists here have trained elsewhere. Many of the local glassblowers have given up – and they are good. The craft is an ancient and magical one. Hopefully Jeff will find a way to keep Joe Blow active. This is not a begging note, but if there are any millionaires around who can’t do without glass, maybe they could get in touch. Like all crafts, it is a pity to waste this visceral gift that only builds up from the making.

Thelma Ruck Keene

March 6 – March 31, 2009

RESINOLOGY

Mikel Lefler has chosen a bold title for her show. It is bold because Resinology does not immediately evoke an interest in exquisite jewellery of silver and gold – especially if the design features the actual wings of butterflies, dragonflies, moths, plus an occasional beetle or a polished scrap of snail shell. But for Mikel, I sense that Resinology is a simple assertion that craftsmanship is her profession. A profession? Crafts? Absolutely. We all have hands, and some hands are good at making or mending something and take pleasure in the doing. But the profession of craftsmanship demands a fundamental dedication to seeking the knowledge and refining the skill of physically handling the materials and tools by which creativity can flourish.

In her bio, Mikel writes that her youthful love of the natural world led her to study biology and entomology at Simon Fraser University and to graduate with a Bachelor of Science. How one thing leads to another in life is fascinating, so I asked Mikel to fill in the space between a degree in Science and creating her unique jewellery. This she did, and I’ll share it later. But first, here is my guest this month with his perceptive comments.

Sean Goddard has ‘An Inordinate Fondness for Beetles’, the title of a book which launched him into creating sculptures of insects in glass and metal. They are entomologically correct but playfully larger than life and dramatically displayed with wings of glass outspread. Sean’s home and studio is on Salt Spring Island, and his small gallery displays his work and that of a few favourite artisans. He writes:

Thank you Sean for thoughts, which so well introduce what Mikel Lefler has to say about herself. She writes:

When thinking about why I have an interest in nature I think it's because of where I grew up. I spent the first two years of my life on Saltspring Island with two hippie, art loving parents. My dad was creating sculpture and my mum was encouraging me to play in the dirt and in the sink. Once we moved to Vancouver, I have really strong memories of going for walks through Deer Lake and Stanley Park on damp, rainy days looking into the water and smelling the wet earth and skunk cabbage. I spent high school living in Pitt Meadows which was still relatively undeveloped so I was also lucky enough to spend time out doors in nature there as well. I always find that smell of wet earth very calming and centering.

I also have a love for collecting things-cool postcards, pink shoes, jewellery, art and sculpture. Once I started collecting insects for entomology class I immediately fell in love. It also was perfect for me since it incorporated going for walks and exploring different geographies to look for different insects.

I have changed my focus now from using entire insects in my jewellery to using single wings. It sort of feels like I'm creating little paintings with them as their colours and patterns continually amaze me. The newest jewellery I have been making, part of what I call my "Airloom" collection, also has enabled me to work more on design and more interesting silver work since I'm not encumbered with an entire insect to work with. I can create smaller, more detailed work which is what is interesting to me right now.

I have also been making resin bangles for the last couple of months which is also terribly fun.

I have to remind myself to relax and do things unrelated to making jewellery as it doesn't feel like a job and is easy for me to do all the time. When travelling on the skytrain the shape of a building will give me an idea for a piece of jewellery. When at a restaurant an idea will spring into my head and I'll have to write it down (I'm almost never without a notepad and pen). When I'm watching tv a certain colour combination will give me an idea for a bracelet.

I'm really grateful that I have had the opportunity to pursue this as a career and hope that I can do this for the rest of my life.

To this I add a postscript. Last year a book called The Craftsman became a best seller amongst the business community. The author, Richard Semmett, is an elderly American sociologist who teachers at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, at the London School of Economics, and at New York University.

His thesis is that the work of hands is a way of understanding phenomena viscerally and using it to stimulate the imagination. "Computers," he says, "should be our tools, not replacements. Simulation is all very well and good, but it won’t give us that moment of ‘Oh! I could do this very differently.’"

In the profession of craft the phenomena may be textiles, clay, wood, metal, or the wings of insects. No matter, your hands know it all and will tip you the wink, so you cry "Oh! I could do this differently." As Einstein said, "Imagination is more important then knowledge." They are, of course, relative.

Thelma Ruck Keene

February 6 – March 3, 2009

STUDENT SCHOLARSHIP RECIPIENTS

Do not, I beg you, miss this show. You will at once be drawn in by the imaginative, skilled work of two young women and two young men. The quality of their college work has earned for each a $1,000 handshake as they set out to make their craftsmanship a trade, a livelihood. As I thought about this I turned to their written statements and at once was captured by how well they had explored and expressed the nature and intention of their work. This led me to wonder how they would spend this scholarship award. So I asked, and for your interest, here are excerpts from their statements, and their answers to my questions.

Here is Margaret Matsuyama whose gathering of small ceramic figures is titled simply "Walk". Margaret writes: "Art is a crossroads between my varied interests and the different sides of my identity. I am drawn to evoking the formation of identity through childhood experience and the effect of repression when that identity does not conform to social norms. I am interested in exploring identity differences, their fragility or impermanence, and enjoy working in a number of disciplines. My process often involves repetition or producing multiples."

Margaret’s walking figures are slightly altered multiples, which allow her to investigate "the related themes of similarity and difference, individuality and conformity, uniqueness and mass production. Recently I have also become more and more interested in examining the art object as a commodity and our relationship to objects in a market economy. Many of the themes connected with identity and childhood experience are still unveiling for me."

On graduation, Margaret’s walk was clear ahead – except for the challenge of how to afford the materials and equipment needed for ceramic work. Then came the scholarship. She writes, "I have managed to create a small working space where I’ve been able to continue making work. The scholarship was immensely helpful towards purchasing many of the supplies and equipment in setting up my studio. I am very appreciative of the award and am honoured to be one of its recipients."

The next two scholarship recipients are Corrina Suveges and Marek Norman, both of whom were interviewed by Sheryl MacKay on the early morning radio show, North by North West. I put them together, because Corrina tailors her clothing to transform the body into sculpture, and Marek creates jewellery designed to tease the wearer "to fill in the story."

Corrina grew up with textiles and a mother who passed on her skills, a gift to the little girl who was stitching clothes for her dolls at an early age. Corrina is blessed with a solid sense of why and what she is doing. She writes, "Precise pattern making and tailoring, combined with organic processes of textile arts, allow me to transform the body into sculpture. Inspired by elements of nature and colour, my vision intermingles earthly beauty with the female figure. Felting, screen-printing, dyeing, draping, embellishment, rusting, and fabric manipulation are details to express my version of natural exquisiteness. "

Here is Corrina’s answer to my question about spending her $1,000. "It is a great honour and privilege to receive the Circle Craft Scholarship. With the funds, I was able to purchase a four-harness floor loom from the Peace Arch Weavers Guild, along with other supplies and equipment to support my craft and artistic practice."

Marek Norman came to jewellery making by a happenstance of place. This is Marek’s account of his journey: "I began studying sculpture and mould-making techniques under Hollywood make-up effects artists in 1989, while living with my father in Los Angeles I developed an interest in model-making and began to explore the craft in earnest. In 1999, I landed a job in a model-making firm, which had a sideline in building props for shows such as the X Files. In 2006, having grown weary of the film industry meat grinder, I left my position with the Stargate Model shop to attend the Jewellery Art and Design program at Vancouver Community College."

Marek won his scholarship and writes, "I am currently juggling several projects, including jewellery design for a fashion show and a retail boutique in Switzerland, sculpting ornaments for a palace in West Vancouver, and some work for the film industry."

About his jewellery making, Marek writes, "My intention is to create something with a slant to the odd. I like to infuse the work with an atmosphere of mystery and strangeness. I want to create the desire in the viewer to know the story, to understand the meaning, but to keep the answers elusive and unclear, letting the viewer’s imagination fill in the blanks." He does not mention how this $1000 dollars was spent, but that is okay. He is on his way.

Now comes the last award winner, Erick James, graduate of the Kootenay School of the Arts. He writes, "As a summer job in the 90s, I apprenticed in a metal fabrication shop, building off-road trucks. This experience gave me a taste of what would become quite a passion – gears, sprockets, cogs, and chains. My first piece was a tulip, welded from old bits and bearing races. I find the inner workings of machines – gears, sprockets, and cogs – lend themselves perfectly to the organic form of a flower. And I know organic. I am a research scientist with a Masters degree in Zoology. After a day in the lab with experiments, hypotheses, and the rigours of the scientific method, I can explore another part of my psyche, simply by creating with the hammer and anvil, crucible and furnace, or plasma torch and welder."

Erick is not at odds with this duality of interest. He writes, "Education has always been a core value of mine. In addition to my Masters in Zoology, I continuously upgrade my technical skills with welding, machining, and blacksmithing classes." He adds, "I utilized the scholarship money for promotional items. I renewed my Web page domain, and purchased business cards and artist postcards. I have some money left over that will go towards tools. I am undecided on a new compressor, welder, or foundry furnace. Most likely I will purchase/build another furnace to allow dual metal pours. This will enable me to make metal baskets (bronze and brass)." In the gallery, you can read his description of how the baskets are made, and how the combination of the two ancient disparate disciplines create a beauty all their own.

Now, without apology for a long introduction to this show, here is my guest, Penny Birnam, to add her perceptive and knowledgeable comments.

This show is like a tasting menu at a good restaurant, a sample of each flavour leaving you wanting more. Here are four very different artists, each with a few beautiful pieces.

Erick James’ work shows his knowledge of biology and a great sensitivity to texture and form. His baskets are woven from soft flexible foam and should be squishy, if judged by form alone, but they have been cast in bronze, aluminium, and brass and are darkly metallic. This interesting internal tension continues in the dinoflagellate, a large hard representation of a tiny fragile organism. I’d love to see more expressions of this sensibility.

Corrina Suveges’ high level of craftsmanship has allowed her to fuse a wide variety of fabric techniques into exquisite wearable art. Unified by a controlled colour palette and very careful tailoring, the different textures and patterns in each piece blend to give a feeling of gorgeous inevitability, as though they had grown organically, just naturally enhancing the female figure.

Margaret Matsuyama’s meditation on multiples is psychologically engaging. The little figures, with identical poses but very subtle changes in the tilt and turn of the heads, have been decorated in the same monochrome palette, with small differences in costume and in the expression of the eyes. The poses are self-contained, the figures not obviously emoting, so the viewer is conscious of attributing/contributing emotions to them. The figures are like Rorschach tests, as we react to minute changes in body language. The figures are also like kewpie dolls, with resonance from childhood, and, in their moulded uniformity, a comment on consumption and commodification. In fact, the longer you look at them, the more ideas they trigger. A fascinating piece, which makes me want to see more.

There is such a small sample of Marek Norman’s jewellery that it is hard to give an overview. The two large fabricated pendants and a cast thorn ring feel like they have a story behind them, each piece intriguing in itself. We will have to wait to see how his intent develops.

Remember these names, they will surely be presences in the future craft of Vancouver.

Thelma Ruck Keene