I'm an Old Timer Now

Remember Dan the Camera Man? We had another opportunity to get our work photographed by him today. Now that I'm so experienced in this process, I just gave him my shawls and scarves and left him to it, which in retrospect was such a waste of valuable learning opportunity. But I did get a few shots of Dan arranging Sue Broad's hand-painted silk fabric.

Sue is an experienced weaver who has recently moved to Nelson. How lucky am I to be able to access her wealth of knowledge now! This is only her debut in "Unravelling"; she will be making many return appearances here in the future, I hope.

Making of an Exhibit - Part 3: Angst and Joy

Monday night, I was weaving an ordered scarf unrelated to the Exhibit(ion); it's a simple Dornick twill in two grays, each strip four-ends wide, the twill direction changing with the color change; the weft is a dirty yellow; all in 100% cashmere. It's the kind of textile I weave often, and what I like to weave. It's guaranteed to have a luxurious hand; the wearer will enjoy it for several years; the construction is sound. And I was weaving on the smaller, four-shaft Jack loom, in the shadow of the big loom on which I have been weaving the Exhibit(ion) pieces.

I was thinking if I had many shawls of the kind I like to weave or am good at weaving, "MY" kind of weaving, the Exhibit(ion) will be filled with reliable but predictable textile, just like a department store. And then I wondered why on earth I ever committed to doing an Exhibit(ion), and knew that I am really the wrong type of person for it. If I need to put myself in a box, I aspire to be a master craftsperson, rather than an artist; I do not aspire to shock or protest or really even express by what I make, but I aspire to weave what is beautiful and functional, and make one person happy. So what I am I thinking, flirting with the idea that what I weave, and a whole bunch of them all lined up, may be interesting to look at, and be worth someone else's time!!

There must be a 6- or 10- or 12-states of emotions artists go through in preparing for their first Exhibit(ion), NOT that I'm calling myself an artist now, but Monday was definitely an "Angst & Self Doubt" stage for me. And it brought back the age-old question of art vs craft to the surface.

Oh, but this little scarf is delicious; and it took only a couple of hours to weave. Darn, I'm good.

Making of an Exhibit - Part 2: Exhibit(ion) Shawls, My Shawls

Preparation is time-consuming; weaving is quick. After much thinking and worrying and finally getting a warp on the big loom, I completed two shawls in three days, neither of which I am crazy about. And I have been wondering why I am so tired and so grouchy.

Since I signed up to do an exhibit(ion), I've been thinking a lot of about the visual coherence of an exhibit. Since Randall Darwall's workshop, I've been obsessed with color changes and Fibonacci sequence. Since I named the exhibit(ion), I've been concentrating on "Sea, Sand and Sky" expressed in colors, textures and weave structures. And I've been in a rush to try to weave to a schedule.

Fundamentally, the kind of shawls I like to weave haven't got a lot of colors but more like nuances: I use the subtle differences of the color or sheen in the warp and weft to highlight the weave. And these two pieces I've finished don't do that. In fact, rather than spending time to design a twill to show waves and water and sand and grass on the dunes, I'm downloading handsome weaves and sampling them one by one. I've been working with concepts trying to make pictures and not doing "my" weaving. At this rate, I won't be showing my best stuff.

On the other hand, these two suit the theme and make good fillers, and by that I don't mean these are inferior, just not to my liking. I know it's good to extend oneself, and I am doing just that. And in the end, I can never tell what you like.

So for the next one or two warps, I'm going to use one color in the warp and do my thing with weave structures, and get it out of my system. At the end of this process, I should have accumulated about half a dozen, at which time I can decide if I need more of "my" kind of shawls, or the "conceptual/pictorial" kind, or if I have the energy and guts and time to try to combine both.

Thank you for clarifying that for me; you've been of great help.

Care

I have a lot of time for Motueka sculptor Tim Wraight and his work. In fact, I've been trying to photograph a series of pillars he carved for the Nelson Information Centre half a dozen times, but have not had any satisfactory results yet.

What amazes me is when I see his work, I can feel the care he takes, the passion, the patience, and the love he puts into each piece. His lines are precise, and yet I feel his breath breathing spirit into each piece of wood, each piece of stone as he chips/chisels away (are those the right words?); much like the way a mother gazes at her sleeping baby; much like the way I caress my warp chains and smell the wool. I have never had this level of connection with any art work before, not even with my own. And the word "care" keeps coming back.

I need to read more on photographing art works, and I'm afraid that won't happen until after the exhibit, but I must give you a sneak preview.

[Erratum] I should have asked him about this first, but the last photo is a work by someone else, but displayed at his gallery garden. I hadn't known him to work with media other than wood and glass, and this design is unusually naturalistic for Tim. Pardon me, mate.

Exhibit(ion) Explosion

I went to see Martin and Julia at Arts Marketing again yesterday, and was given such a lot of good advice that my head is exploding. I then went to Gallery 203 to check in and update Lloyd of my plans. Some of the PR-related matters, which I was going to leave until later, needed to be done first, and I had to think quickly. I had to give my exhibit(ion) a name; I have been using "To The Sea, To The Sea" as a working title for the series I'm weaving now; I have also thought "(W)rapt" might be more this-century, but in the end, I decided on a unassuming, self-explanatory one: "Sea, Sand and Sky".

Kath has offered to come and perform each Thursday during the three weeks during lunch hour. I am having a Weavers' Show-and-Tell on the first Wednesday, followed by "afternoon tea" right there in the gallery. I have been mulling over a lot of bits and pieces, but suddenly this exhibit(ion) has sprung to life in front of me. So here it is:

"Sea, Sand and Sky"

My first exhibit(ion) is scheduled at Gallery 203,
upstairs, 203 Trafalgar Street, Nelson, New Zealand,
from 29 January to 17 February 2007.
Entry is free.

Nelson song-writer Kath Bee will be performing live at the gallery
on Thursdays 1, 8 and 15 February,
from midday to 1pm.

A special Weavers' Hour will be held on Wednesday 31 January,
from 2 to 3pm, followed by afternoon tea.
Weavers are invited to a show-and-tell-and-chat.
For catering purposes, if you are interested, please contact me at
Info@MegWeaves.com.

Look for the Arts Council entrance between Unichem Pharmacy and Max on Collingwood Street. The gallery is upstairs.

At times I'm reminded of one of my previous incarnations as a conference administrator; at other times weaving looks like the easiest part of putting an exhibit(ion); but this is my first time and as I am a control freak, I am enjoying making decisions on all aspects of the exhibit(ion).

Except one thing: I have been told that in New Zealand I must call this an exhibition, which seems so over-the-top-ly, ostentatiously, conspicuously, pretentiously misleading; I see it as a mini exhibit, a bit of fun. Must I get used to calling this by the longer name?

And an Old Way of Looking at Things

Irene visited me here, so I visited her blog. I had been there before, though I don't know when or how I got there. The name of the blog is "Pregnant Pauses" and she writes, "A pregnant pause is a momentary stillness laden with significance. It is rich, prolific, provocative, wow. It is a threshold for ideas and can translate into one to one thousand emotions. It welcomes imagination and brims with untold possibilities. Sometimes, it is even pinched with humor. Life's most unforgettable moments are highlighted by pregnant pauses. Now, I gladly share with you mine."

I talk, write and pace to formulate ideas; the opposite of pauses. It's as if I gain momentum from my physical movement, like those tiny toy cars you first make go backwards in order to wind it up, and the minute you let go, it goes forward. Though I call my studio variously the womb, the cocoon, the basement with one small window, when I am there it is by no means a quiet place.

Writer Joan Rosier-Jones told me to "write it, don't tell it" when I first met her 12 years ago, but it's not just about writing. For the amount of talking, writing, pacing AND thinking I do, I produce very little finished products, weaving or otherwise. I do breadth well, not depth, and not longevity.

Just yesterday, I heard on the radio about the new Kate De Goldi book called "Billy". (Her web site doesn't have the info yet, but an Australian site does.) Billy is an outside-the-square kid, and is told to go to the "Quiet Space" several times a day, and by the end of the book, he is not changed, but is redeemed not in a small way. Something made me go to Pages and read the book last night.

I need to learn where my Quiet Space is.

Looking for a New Way of Looking at Things

A statement which has been bugging me since November 9, (but I thought it had been weeks, months!): "Authenticity is not honesty, but that is a part of it. It surely is not good taste, in fact it may be just the opposite." To this, I responded: "After reading this post for the seventh or eighth time, yes, of course, you're right, but why did it sound so untrue the first several times? I haven't had art education since 9th grade, but was I somehow somewhere grilled this?" At first I even thought him arrogant.

He also declares: ""As an artist I am searching for comfort in pure formalism, but I cannot help slip into autobiographic abstraction." To which I asked: "Is the autobiographic element what makes your art authentic? And in turn, how can I include autobiographic elements into my craft?"

Because, for now, my big question is originality/creativity. To repeat what I blogged just two weeks ago, there is nothing new under the sun as regards weaving. Textiles woven in the latest, spiffiest weaves on gazillion-shaft-computer-operated looms have been done with sticks and fingers somewhere, sometime, by to-us known weavers, and the new tools are sometimes invented to recreate old textile, quickly and with great ease to us. These restrictions are also what allows me to participate in the fringes of 'art'. If we are honest, we weavers, we only combine different elements of weaving (colors, textures, yarn types, weaves, finishes, ornaments, end-uses) and call it our own.

To him, I want to scream: "You cannot possibly leave out, or even think of leaving out, your autobiographic elements from your art!" and yet, for me, I am not sure what is mine and what is borrowed from my known and unknown predecessors and colleagues.

He is the one who started this.

MegWeaves/Red Gallery Cashmere Scarves

Looking at Ann's two photos, I realized I've been obsessed about showing you Randying theories and have posted a few photos of my weaving. So here are some to counter the flow.

These are 100% cashmere scarves I'm developing with the Red Gallery; they are women's scarves, about 11cm (roughly 4 inches) wide, and 150cm (60 inches) long, and I'm thinking of calling them "Collar Scarves" or some such; they are meant to be splashes of colors around your neck. To bring out the best features of cashmere, (soft and light), so far simple twill weaves have worked best, and for the time being, I will weave them in one, two or three colors at most.

Ann Boniface Faces Randy

(Click on the pictures to see the details of the weave structure.)

Ann is not only an experienced weaver, but also a veteran weaving teacher, and I was lucky to have my loom next to hers, because she gave me great hints and advices while we wove. One of the advices, "Try two picks," improved my sample instantly on the first day when I was having a very bad time.

This is a scarf she wove on the remainder of the warp she had on the loom during the workshop. Fibonacci Sequence, values, dynamic transition: they're all there!

Today I Heard from the Great One

So, without further ado.

*****

Hi Meg!
Finally beginning to feel a little more like whatever normal is after jumping through all the curdling hurdles that we faced when we got home, and I've got a few minutes to send a bit of a note. Feel free to share it on your blog with all the wonderful Kiwis that I haven't had time to answer yet. I'm getting there.

We took the desert road, and it was magical: sort of like driving right from Vermont (with ocean) into Utah and beyond. Spent the night on the big lake, (Lake Taupo, Randy,) and flew back from Auckland Sunday PM.

And B(rian) hit the ground running like we knew he had to on his installation. I stayed home and began dealing with loose threads, and put on three warps. So when I finally got to see what he had done, with his crew of art school eager beavers, I was truly gobsmacked. As was the museum. I'll attach pix. Then onto the Philadelphia show, which went very well indeed. We've been back a little over a week. Whew!

More later.
Much love.

Randy

*****

And the pix.
Interestingly it wasn't the "Much love", but the "More later" that pleased me so; oh, Great One, I interpreted it to mean I can keep on pestering you!