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Category: Reflections
Thoughts from January 2023
I want to start with a note to say thank you for being here. Thanks for reading. Thanks for supporting my studio and growth as an artist. I’ve found it hard to share about my artwork since mid-2022, and I realize now that it is because things are in a state of transition. My artwork is changing and what I want from my career is changing. The large fiber collage pieces I created in June unlocked something new in my artwork. I can feel the work resonating with me, and with others.
It’s exciting. But it’s slow, too. I’m not sure how to transition to making large work in my current studio. I’m not sure who the new audience will be. I’m not sure how to fund it. I’m working it out, though. Stick around, I’m hopeful 2023 will be a good one.
-DC
PS. In today’s email, I’m sharing a few of the things I’m thinking about in relation to this new work. Sticking with the theme of change, I’m not sure what my studio emails will look like moving forward, but I love the idea of connecting you with the things that are inspiring and exciting me in the studio.
Elena del Rivero
This year I came across the work of Elena del Rivero. I am most drawn to her work with the dishtowel. She has been working with the dishtowel form since the 90s, including the work above made from handmade paper, pristine at first and then worn down on the floor of her studio before being reassembled into a storied paper dishcloth, embellished with hand stitching.
Elena del Rivero, [Swi:t] Home. Dishcloths, 2000-01.
Stitches and mending on handmade and dirtied abaca paper with watermark.
5 dishcloths. Each 292 x 381 cm.
Installation views at The Drawing Center for Performance Paper, a project curated by Catherine de Zegher, July 2001.
Photo: Cathy CarverI sourced the photo above from Rivers Institute for Contemporary Art & Thought, where the text titled “Nineteen Notes for Elena del Rivero’s Nineteen Flags“ by John A. Tyson, is an incredible, insightful companion to Elena del Rivero’s body of work.
Here is note #9.
“Del Rivero’s artworks rattle sabers with conventional accounts of modernism. Her series of monumental dishtowels emblazoned with geometric motifs and irregular splatters and smudges, “Letter from Home,” brings to the fore one of the repressed aspects of “high art”: paintings are really just stained swathes of fabric. Arguably, Clement Greenberg’s notion of “pictorial space,” the idea that a mark on a support yields an illusion of figure superimposed upon ground, is one final defense against seeing uncovered canvases for the materials they are made from. Del Rivero’s grids posit that dishtowel designs could possess this kind of illusionistic dimensionality when put in conversation with abstract canvases. In the context of del Rivero’s paintings, Greenberg’s affirmation, “thus a stretched or tacked-up canvas already exists as a picture—though not necessarily a successful one,” comes to define painting as the manipulation of cloth.”
Martha Stewart and Fashion/Women’s Rights Timeline
When I downloaded this podcast to listen to, I had no idea how much connection I would find in it to themes I’m wondering about in my artwork and my life. Yes, the story of Martha Stewart is worth a listen, even without a deeper interest in craft, domestic work, and powerful women.
I was especially intrigued by this timeline that Sarah Archer shared, which I’ve transcribed/cleaned up below.
1970
50% of single women and 40% of married women are participating in the labor force
Jessica McClintock buys gunnysacks and begins producing prairie dresses
Gloria Vanderbilt appears in a quilt extravaganza called Gloria the Great’s Patchwork Bedroom in the pages of Vogue
1971
Erica Wilson’s needlepoint show premieres on PBS
1972
hobby lobby opens
1973
Roe versus Wade is decided
Betty Friedan debates Phyllis Schlafly on TV
Michael’s craft stores open
1974
Little House on the Prairie premiers on NBC
Women can apply for credit and their own names
1976
Yves Saint Laurent presents his peasant collection
1978
Passage of the pregnancy discrimination act
So what strikes you about this span of time?
From the data points you’re giving, it feels like there’s a direct correlation between women gaining legal rights and the aesthetic of an imagined past domesticity becoming ascendant.
Louise Bourgeois’ fabric books
I was recently introduced to these illustrated, fabric books by Louise Bourgeois. I did not previously know that Louise Bourgeois worked with fabric in this way. The blog article Louise Bourgeois: A Flashback of Something that Never Existed, posted by Christina Costello, Louise Bourgeois Print Cataloguer, Department of Prints and Illustrated Books, is a great short read.
Here is an excerpt from the MOMA website:
“Although she is best known for her sculptures, drawings, and prints, Bourgeois also made illustrated books (a format that she herself collected) from the late 1940s onward, incorporating her own texts and those of other authors. Fabric had deep personal associations for her, as she had spent her childhood living upstairs from her parents’ tapestry restoration workshop and then for years employed textiles in her sculptures and as the support for her prints and drawings. She had long used art as a means of exploring and exorcising her personal history, but this volume is unusually intimate: it is composed entirely of pieces of textiles she had worn or had saved since the 1920s, including nightgowns, scarves, hand towels, and table napkins from her wedding trousseau, monogrammed with her initials.”
Thanks for reading! Until next time, Dana
2019 Year in Photos
In this season of my life, the days are long but the years are short. I started this post as a business focused year-in-review, but 2019 was fuller and richer than just my growing art business. We traveled to 2 countries and 3 states, saw Benjamin turn 1 and start walking and talking, and Pat’s job moved back to Houston.
January
Commissions bring me back to the studio.February
We take our first trip away from baby to CDMX.March
I open my online shop and launch new art.April
I continue to do a lot of this.May
Forth and Nomad Gallery opens with Lanecia’s art show.June
We take Ben to Peru, a dream vacation.July
My solo show opens at Forth and Nomad Gallery.August
Pat moves back to Houston full time.September
My art business starts gaining momentum.October
Ben turns 1.November
We spend lots of time with family.December
I work my first art market and open a holiday shop.
Your turn. Can you sum up your year in one photo/sentence per month?
An Artist’s Letter to Her Child
My Dearest,
From the beginning, you were meant to be mine. As you grew, my heart started opening to you. Slowly, some days, and steadily you made a home in my soul as your body grew in my body. And now, as I wait to see your face, I think of the things I want for you.
I want you to explore. Be curious, run free, immerse yourself in this vast world.
I want you to get messy. Touch the earth, be barefoot, make mistakes.
I want you to be fearless. Follow through on your ideas, create something new, add to the world.
I want you to love. Find passion for a dream, find beauty in others, feel love.
We will meet soon.
Love always, Mom
Five Senses October
Years ago, when I had a blog on Blogger and read blogs every morning with my coffee, I came across this blog series. I love the simplicity of an update like this and how it provides a powerful, descriptive glimpse into one’s life in this moment. Now that I’m blogging again, I can’t help but bring it back.
S E E I N G the neighborhood sidewalks and restaurant patios fill with life as the weather cools.
T A S T I N G homemade German chocolate birthday cake.
H E A R I N G the soundtrack of football games.
S M E L L I N G newly washed baby clothes and blankets.
T O U C H I N G precious and powerful baby kicks as we near our due date in mid-October.
Reflections on an Artist’s Studio
Part I: The studio as a path to legitimacy.
My first studio was in high school, as an advanced placement art student I was given an easel and storage drawers that were for my individual use. I chose a space near a corner where two walls quickly filled with my sketches and paintings. I was eager to make my mark on the space.
After high school, my art practice waned and I did not keep a studio. I struggled to identify as an artist. I kept creating here and there, mostly on the side of my bedroom with the window open and fans on high.
In 2010 I made the conscious decision to pursue art with a focused practice. I made changes to my goals, my schedule and my finances and I rented an art studio. With one action, I shifted my identity from amateur to artist.
When my husband and I bought our home in 2013 my priority was a home with dedicated studio space. The detached garage is now my favorite part of the house. I am also fond of the kitchen.
Part II: The studio as a reflection of the artist.
The artist’s studio has always held a mystique and fascination for me. Even my first childhood observations of group studio rooms during after-school art lessons left me daydreaming of the individuals who worked in that space. There is no place more representative of the inhabitant and their inner being than a working artist’s studio.
During the time I rented a studio I loved the open studio days because of the opportunity to visit other artists’ studios. They were quirky, messy and still full of mystery. Each object a question to be asked. Each question a pathway toward understanding the artist.
Although I had dreamed of my own studio, the reality of my long-time dream left me insecure. My studio was clean. My studio was neat. Cluttering my studio just for show felt disingenuous. Was I mysterious? Was I an artist?
Slowly I adjusted to the idea of my studio as a place to work. In my studio I am productive and curious and brave. I work better in an environment with less clutter.
When friends visit the house they want to see my garage studio. I show them, nervously, and am met with pleasant questions about most of the things within. I am mysterious to them.
The artist’s studio is a retreat into the artist’s mind. Whether the space is filled with inspiration, tidiness, chaos, relaxation, seriousness or play; the space is possessed solely by the artist. There will never be another like it.