Yesterday I had my metal casting crit. I was given a small room, across the hall from one of the student galleries. Since I didn't feel I had much to show from the whole half a semester's work I decided to do a performance piece. In this small square room, I draped a red and yellow batik piece up on the ceiling just below the two industrial strip lights suspended from the ceiling. I did this to soften up a completely white cube and give it a warm glow.
Then, I attached a yellow crocheted table cloth (made by my great-grandmother) to the back wall, so that when you opened the door it was the first thing you would see besides me standing behind a table, draped in a lace tablecloth, in an old velvet hippie dress I still have from the fabulouse seventies (that still, miraculously fits) with a sack on the table containing the bells I had cast.
On the side walls of the small room I had pictures from childhood and some pictures of my hand after surgery a few years ago as well as a photo I had taken of a bee pollinating a daisy.
When the class came in the room, I had a sparkly black scarf on my head and I picked up a small black sketch book I had on the table and began to read, "This is what memory is" and plucked a bell out of the sack rang it. Then I said, "the things we hold within" and rang another bell, and, "a fragment of fading", (bell ringing) different sounds at different times (bell ringing) resonating. . ."
O.K., so it's a bit wooky but it's art school, and for me, bells really do evoke a time of innocence, and purity, a simpler time, a time when hours and life passages (birth, death, and weddings) were marked by bells.
Bells are tolled when wars end, when days end, when life ends. They are a simple yet glorious instrument. And, I am making some of my own, that hopefully will pass into the hands of others who appreciate the music they make. And they, unlike me, will be around for a very, very long time.
I wondered today, for just a little bit, why my arms and back ached so much. Could it have been the ladder and heavy bronze bells, tablecloths and other stuff I carried from my car into the little gallery the day before? Am I really that decrepit? I guess the answer is . . . yes!
So, here are some of the bells I made. I should have taken a picture of the performance space. A big duh on my part!
So, there are the bells. I have a new appreciation for anyone that does metal sculpture. Some of the pictures I've put into previous posts show some of the process involved.
Now, on to my 'happy place', the painting studio. I had a crit with a couple of my painting professors today. I never quite know if they've liked what I've done or not. . .
The two paintings I showed in my crit today were the completed (second version) 1973 High School portrait and a painting I did from a photo of my dad holding me when I was an infant (a mere fifty-five years-ago).
The H.S. portrait was already posted on my October 30th blog.
So, here's the (still unfinished) painting from the old photo.
Now that I look at the photo of the painting I can see where there are wonky angles and I need to do something more constructive with the background. I dunno.
So, I showed these two paintings for my crit today and the male prof (who will remain nameless) says something to me about how all this work is about the 'past' and, "what are you doing with your life now?"
This question totally floored me.
I had no response.
Why? I thought I had worked up a good angle from which to paint and I was all set to retell stories from my family life.
And so, the question has plagued me since he asked it.
What AM I doing with my life now?
Well, first and foremost, I am going to art school.
Why?
Because I want to paint for the rest of my life.
I never want to stop.
How can I make that happen?
I think I am making it happen right now.
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