Material

One part of my studio practice is to hang images that inspire me around my work area. These are a few images I've been looking at in my studio lately: a driftwood sculpture by Isamu Noguchi, the cover of a book about Richard Hirsch's tripod vessels, and a portrait of Martha Graham dancing.

   Link to MOMA page with deets on this Noguchi

These 2 images seem so related to me - and related also in an odd way to the dance of Martha Graham (below).  Look at her foot - isn't that same tension in the detail of the tripod? See the arc of her hand - doesn't Noguchi somehow capture a similar extension in his negative space? The long skirt, the driftwood, the oxide in the hard ceramic surface - don't they each function (on some level?) as material that at once hides and reveals the graceful movement of the dance? 

Somehow the simplicity of form and materials  lends itself to a rich experience of viewing and reflecting.

17th century philosopher Gottfried Leibniz says that any world God created would be good, but He chose specifically to create this world in the most perfect manner,

"that is to say the one which is at the same time the simplest in hypotheses and the richest in phenomena, as might be the case with the geometric line, whose construction was easy, but whose properties and effects were extremely remarkable and of great significance." (Discourse on Metaphysics, VI)

 

What do you think about when choosing to work with a particular material in a particular way?

WORD

A good friend reminds me often, "the conversation continues all around us, whether we choose to participate in it or not."

One way I try to stay (somewhat!) active in contemporary cultural discourse is through Art Theory Summer Camp.

The fabulous Amber Ginsburg brings this project to life each year. A book a month, an hour a week discussion (thank you Skype!) and all sorts of new ideas and connections to make their way into my work all year.

I'll be spending part of this summer with Buckminster Fuller, Bruno Latour, and Slavo Zizek, as well as a few bright and funny fellow readers across the country. 

What are your reading plans for the summer? How do they play into your concept of practice?

Wanderings and wonderings

I've been realizing lately how much impact the time spent outside my studio can have on my work in the studio.
When I lived at the Jersey shore, long walks on the boardwalks (that's Ocean Grove at sunrise in the photo at left) or on the sand provided a way to unwind and find inspiration and insight at the same time. I've come to think of this practice as wanderings and wonderings.
More recently, my wanderings have been mostly around campus. Luckily for me, it is a pretty, park-like setting, complete with small wetlands and nature trails. Whether on my own or with a companion, a half hour in the air seems to clear the head and heart enough to make the next few hours in the studio more productive. At the beach, I am an inveterate shell seeker; here I take a small bag and collect bits of trash that invariably litter the trails. Though I like the idea of providing a small service to the space that sustains me, I've begun to notice even more how it mirrors the meditative practice of seashell hunting. While my left brain is on the lookout for bits of paper, plastic or other garbage, my right brain gets some time to unwind and stretch its legs.
So, is there anything you do outside of the studio that you consider an important part of your overall practice?  To what do you turn when you feel the need to clear your head or take a brief but restorative break?