ICONIC: work in progress, and a show!

These days the term of highest praise is iconic.  Something (or someone) that is the latest, hippest, purest exemplar of its type is iconic.  The online Urban Dictionary offers this:

Similar to "classic," iconic is generally restricted to more recent, highly original, influential, or unique, works of art, artists, or performers. As such they are now well-established and widely celebrated in popular culture.

"Oedipus Rex" is a classic, but the original "Planet of the Apes" is truly iconic.

Unfortunately, like every over-used word, it will soon cease to mean anything.   Epic, anyone? Awesome? 

Overused or not, ICONIC is the working title of my 2018 show of tapestries.  Save the date:  the opening will be Sunday, February 25, 2018.  The show will run February 15-March 13 at Southeast Fiber Arts Alliance (SEFAA) in Atlanta. 

Lest it sound presumptuous to describe my own work as iconic, let me explain.  I've been obsessed for the past few years with a particular icon, the one pictured below, of Mary the mother of Jesus.  This is an icon in the original sense, a painting of a religious figure intended to enhance prayer and spiritual devotion.  For me, this image has sparked a whole series of tapestries exploring the meaning and influence of the mythic figure of Mary. 

Mary, detail of 6th c. encaustic icon at Sta. Maria della Francesca church, Rome

I am nearing the completion of this series now, having begun the seventh and final piece recently.  Here's my progress so far on Mary (yes).

Molly Elkind, Mary (Yes), handwoven tapestry in progress, (c) 2017

And recently I cut off the loom my largest, and most personal, piece in the series, called Mary (the anxiety of influence).   

Molly Elkind, Mary (the anxiety of influence), handwoven tapestry, (c) 2017

You can see photos and read about some of the other pieces in the series here and here.

Related to this series is another series I'm working on, loosely based on medieval illuminated manuscripts.  These texts were packed with meaning for their original readers, serving as prayer books.  Nowadays most of us cannot read the text, and we appreciate them purely for their decorative qualities, and perhaps for the insight they offer into a different world and time.

I find these manuscripts fascinating for the layout of the pages--those margins, either empty or packed with intricate decoration!  That profusion of pattern!  That beautifully lettered text, which contains some kind of sacred meaning, out of reach for most of us today.  The way the patterns, pictures and words are interwoven into one unified surface fascinates me.   

In my tapestry series I am experimenting with compositions that explore margins and centers, and with combinations of text, or text-like patterns, and abstract imagery.  Red Letter Day is part of this series.  I am starting a companion piece, tentatively titled Red Letter Night--it will have a dark background.

Molly Elkind, Red Letter Day, handwoven tapestry, (c) 2016

Here's a peek at the collage and some sampling I've done for Red Letter Night. 

And I have several small pieces in the series as well.  Here's one:

Molly Elkind, Huh?, handwoven tapestry (c) 2016

An icon provides an occasion and the means for contemplation, for meditation, a chance to forget oneself and one's daily life for a few moments and enter another deeper or higher reality. . . . Rather like what we have come to expect artwork to offer us.

What is iconic for you?

random thoughts from the studio at Christmas

Yes, the studio is a cluttered mess, and wrapping paper and ribbons have invaded. . . but there are twinkle lights!

On the wall on the far left you can see a rough collage of the design for my next Mary tapestry, on the theme of Mater Dolorosa (Sorrowing Mother).  I have started sampling yarns and colors for this piece with the Churro yarn I picked up at Tierra Wools in November (and some other yarns).  I'm weaving the face sideways and really enjoying that, putting in the lines for the eye and the mouth with soumak.  Excited about the possibilities.  Still hunting for the perfect rich light browns for the skin tones though.. . . and thinking I need to use a finer yarn for the soumak.  Stay tuned.

I want to share with you a poem by Rachel M. Srubas that was included in an Advent devotional I read last year.  Even if you aren't Christian, or are but aren't particularly interested in Mary, I think the message of Mary's strength empowers all of us . . . .

So be it

She has a secret,
though she shares it with heaven and earth.
Heaven imparted it to her, the curving earth cradles it,
neither judges her, and neither calls her a liar.

Fear flew from her like a flock of startled birds
and left her capable of greatness.
All that remained for her to say was so be it.
She said it, and meant it, though she was young.

Why say no?
Why protect yourself from risky blessedness?
You may not be as young as she,
but so what?  So be it, for God's sake.
Try saying it, try meaning it.

Don't just watch her go.
Follow her.
Emulate her urgency, her clear sense of direction.
You have your own heaven-given secrets and capacities,
your own map of the territory that will lead you
to the magnificent life you could live.



My warmest wishes for the peace, joy, hope and strength of the season to your and yours!  Thank you for keeping me company on this journey.

What is "creative authenticity"?

Well, for one thing, it's the title of this book I read a while back, by Ian Roberts:  Creative Authenticity: 16 Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision.  As someone who teaches about the creative and design process, I read these sorts of things when I come across them.

You can see from the number of post-its sticking out that I found much in this book to respond to.

There is lots here that I like and agree with.  Roberts acknowledges the connection between art and the spiritual.  He writes

In the face of beauty, we are silenced, because beauty expresses silence. . . .A work of art is like a visual form of prayer.  The depth of the artist's attention, the prayer, is what we respond to. . . . Our response comes from the power of the prayer that contributed to the making of the piece.  The artwork lives.  If we are left unmoved by a painting of the Virgin, it is likely because the artist was unmoved in the act of painting her.  The subject matter is mostly irrelevant; it is important only as a vehicle for the artist's feelings.  And this is the key to how much silence, consciousness or attention that the art reflects.  (pp. 29-30).

I have felt for a long time that the works of art that move me most are those that possess a strong sense of necessity, an inherent right to exist, a lack of contrivance or arbitrariness, a direct emotional appeal--and this comes from the artist's complete commitment, even surrender, to the piece.  Do not be put off by Roberts' use of the word prayer in this context; what he really means is a quality of deep, heartfelt attention.

As someone who has been working with imagery of the Virgin Mary lately, this particular passage hit home.  I do worry that I am mining a tapped-out vein; that imagery of Mary is completely irrelevant today, a relic of a musty religious past that most people no longer feel connected to or moved by.

detail, 6th century icon of Mary, Santa Maria Francesca church, Rome; inspiration for my Mary series of tapestries

Later in the book Roberts writes:

We cannot appropriate the power of past images by using them today.  We can't assume that because they had a primal and elemental power when they were created that they will convey that power to a viewer now if we include them in our artwork.  Such a work would become an artwork "about" a symbol.  We aren't making art about someone else's symbol nor can we invest it with original power.  That's why so much postmodernist art is so detached.  (p. 158)

Well.

It's true that it is lazy and artistically bankrupt to appropriate an image from another work of art wholesale, plop it into one's own work, and expect it to convey "original" meaning and emotion. That's just plagiarism.  But it is also true, as Roberts elsewhere acknowledges, that artists have been inspired by other art for millennia.  Presumably artists return again and again to the same symbols, subjects and stories because they feel they have something new to say about them, that they are engaging with them in a fresh, personal, contemporary way.  Symbols remain symbols because they speak so deeply to human experience.  Artwork can be "about a symbol" if that symbol is one that is meaningful to the artist.  It can be invested with new, not just borrowed, power.  You don't have to be a practicing Christian to find that images of Mary speak to notions of what it means to be a woman, a mother, and a daughter, even in the 21st century.  Mary's shadow is very long.

I was heartened to see this wall text in the Vik Muniz show recently at Atlanta's High Museum (for more about that exhibit, click HERE) :

Yes, appropriation is a postmodern practice, and yes, it is done with eyes wide open, fully aware, even self-consciously so, of the weight and power of all of art history.  In my view one hallmark of a serious contemporary artist is that he or she is aware, but not constrained, by that history.  As Muniz' work demonstrates, art that employs appropriation can be witty, clever, insightful, and moving all at once.

What do you think about appropriation?  Have you ever consciously borrowed from other artists in your own work?

PS.  Social media update:  You can now follow me on Instagram @mpelkind and Like my Facebook page, Molly Elkind Handwovens.  Hope to see you there!

2 + 3 = 3 too many

Many artists like to work on more than one piece at once, and I do too.  If you get stuck, or tired of puzzling out one piece, you can shift gears to another.

Right now I have about five projects going, though, and that's too many.  It's just making me nuts. This is not the first time this has happened; I seem to be a slow learner regarding where exactly the sweet spot is for me.  Sigh.  But we all know the siren call of the new idea, the seductive thrill of beginning something new that will be the most exciting thing ever, right?

Here's what's in progress at the moment:

1.  On the floor loom, two Tencel twill scarves, in belated fulfillment of an order from my very patient sister-in-law last Thanksgiving   months ago.  The first scarf is a sort of buffalo check, taken straight from the color gamp I did a few years back.  You can see it to the left of the orange line that divides the two scarves, winding around the cloth beam.   The second scarf features a straight diagonal twill with occasional veers into the other diagonal direction, at roughly Fibonacci intervals.

2A.  On the PVC tapestry loom, I'm sampling colors and weave patterns for my next big Mary tapestry.

2B. As I sample I am going back to the full-size draft of the cartoon that's in progress on my design wall and making adjustments.  It's really cool the way sampling colors has allowed me to approach the design with fresh eyes and sharper focus on what I actually need to know in order to begin weaving.  Thank you, Joan Baxter!  Here's a detail of the design.

(c) Molly Elkind 2016

3. On the Mirrix tapestry loom, I'm making a 4" x 6" tapestry in the series I'm thinking of as modern, miniature illuminated manuscripts, a piece entitled WTF, my response to the horror in Orlando.  I'm thinking I need to un-weave and re-do the W and the section around it.  Sigh.

4. And then there's the bed quilt I started a year ago, inspired by Turkish tiles and meant to coordinate with the Turkish rug on the floor in our bedroom.  I thought I couldn't tolerate the way the current quilt clashed with the rug, but apparently I can.  Admittedly, this is a project I work on very intermittently.  I'm still appliqueing the right side panel.  Next steps will be to do the applique border along the top and to seam all the panels together.

5.  And you already know about the tapestry diary from last week's post.  This is a no-stress project, only requiring 15-30 minutes per day.  So it hardly counts in terms of adding to my self-imposed project stress.

My son would say at this juncture, "First world problem, Mom."  And he's right.  I am a very lucky woman to have the time and resources to do this work.

Latest Mary tapestry finished

Mary (greater is what she bore in her mind), handwoven tapestry 12" x 9" (c) Molly Elkind 2015

What's looming

My last few posts have been long and wordy. . .today I'm just going to share a few photos of what I'm working on.  And maybe a few words of explanation.

 

This is a shawl in off-white alpaca-silk.  This yarn is super-soft and I'm weaving a diamond pattern in it.  Usually I make my warps (the long threads strung under tension on the loom) long enough for at least two projects. I challenge myself to make the second project significantly different from the first, by using a different weft yarn (the yarn that goes horizontally across, carried in the shuttle you see resting on the fabric), or by varying the woven pattern somehow.  

The second piece on this warp is above--using a dark grey weft, also alpaca-silk, in the same diamond pattern. Why diamonds?  The Chattahoochee Handweavers Guild, where I learned to weave six years ago, is celebrating their 60th anniversary soon and throwing a party at which members are invited to show off a diamond-themed item they have woven.  You can see the pattern better in this detail shot below, taken after the fabric was washed.  Fingers crossed that one of these pieces will be fit for public display!

When I'm not working at the floor loom I'm stealing time for tapestry weaving.  Below is the next one in my series about the Virgin Mary.  I took this photo last week.  As you can see I'd barely woven any of Mary's face, since for technical reasons I had to start with the green area on the left.

 Here's where I'd gotten to by yesterday.  Mary has a face now!  I left myself a sticky note to remind me what to do next (rip out and do over some areas.  Sigh.)

Here's hoping your own creative efforts--whatever your medium--this week have been rewarding.  Onward! 

P.S.  If you enjoy what you're reading, please click on the button under my photo at the top right to subscribe to this blog.  And as always, your comments are welcome below.  I do have to approve them, to prevent a few bad apples from spoiling the discussion for everyone, but so far I've published every comment I've received.