DAY 4 Studio Day

Citrasolv soaking bottles...

The day started with donuts (thanks to Professor Paul Ryan) and a somewhat lively discussion of the last chapter of Suzi Gablik's The Re-enchantment of Art.  I think Suzi Gablik would be pleased at the impression her text made on the class. Everyone seemed to agree that art is far better when it is engaged and engaging with others...

And then, what should be the last day of cleaning commenced. We did it in the relative dark as the buzzing lights give us no mercy. Scrubbing, scraping, sanding, soaking and cursing a bit the students rolled up their sleeves and muscled through.

Trash is dirty, dark, unloved. We have this opportunity to make it clean, full of light and give it love so that it is not what it was. Thoughtfully considering what is still great about these objects - focusing on that... What is it about this big blue object that compelled this student to spend hours cleaning it?

Big blue mysterious object courtesy of Lewis Creek.

She saw something. It is a massive cerulean blue object that was polluting the creek... slowly photo-degrading. She is tackling it and daring to take it out of the inappropriate context it found itself in and raise its status. This process is akin to what happens when you fall in love with a person - for some time, you can only see the best parts of them they become elevated, enveloped in a mystifying glorious light of some sort.

Cleaning debris allows us to be seduced by debris - it slows us down to see hidden potential in a profound way. By paying very focused attention to the way your trash behaves when you clean it you become intimate with it (perhaps frustrated that it doesn't want to bend to your whim) but you persevere. What is the option? Art doesn't make itself. Aurora Robson won't just give out As. Giving up is likely the most boring thing a person can do and the easiest route is usually one that has been widely traveled and all the fruit from the trees has already been picked there... get out the sickle and hack away at the thorns. That is how you create and find your path. 

So. Instead of giving up, you become informed about how your material will respond. The dance (or battle) of making a work of art begins. You start to see and respect the limitations of your material. Does it release dirt particles better with this brush or that? Is it brittle or flexible? Does light pass through it? Is it strong or flimsy? Are the murmurings of grace hiding beneath its surface waiting for you to eliminate excess so it can reveal itself? Get to the core of what works with your debris, free it from whatever ails it. Remove the excess. Trim the fat. Get to the point. Make a point. Think about why you want to make what you want to make. Be kind and honest with yourself.

Once you've discovered what the best things are about this piece of debris, figure out how can you highlight those positive attributes in order for them serve your vision of what you think needs to exist in this world. Anything you chose to create - as long as you do it with honesty and intention, will be better than pollution --- but will it be art?

Mysterious plastic object from Lewis Creek.

Lewis Creek PVC pipe getting a bath.

Metal from the creek with river barnacles of glass + mud glue.

Clean river debris awaiting its fate.