Interviews

365 Days Milwaukee, Wisconsin

1.Briefly describe the work you do. 

I make sculptures with handmade paper.  With these sculptures I try to access something beyond our concrete world and to find meaning and comfort through doing so. Sometimes I do this very directly, as in my piece “A Full Taste of Happiness”, an installation of hundreds of Buddha-like sculptures, and at other times indirectly, as in the abstract hanging sculptures I call “Healing Machines.” 

For me, paper is the ideal medium to explore these ideas.  Paper itself is complex. It is light, responds to movement and appears fragile. As a paper sculptor, I know that it is also pliable, absorbs color beautifully, and is very strong.  Abaca, the fiber I use most often, shrinks as it dries, adding the element of chance to all my work.  I also enjoy the process of papermaking because of my love of water, for its beauty, sensuality and for its healing qualities. 

Working with multiples is a strong component of my work.  It is both a metaphor and a strategy.  Multiples, especially those with variations, point to the simple yet complicated nature of just about everything.  As an artistic strategy, they offer an opportunity for experimentation within a structure, for stillness with many variations.  As a visual strategy, they calm a busy eye, with each object informing the others.  I often suspend these multiples from the ceiling on fine line.  Their movement in response to the movement in the air means that the display itself is impermanent, that it also has many variations.  

2. Tell us about your background and how that has had an influence on your work and on you as an artist. 

I grew up in a household full of wonderful woodcraft made by my father, who never considered himself an artist. I continued in his tradition, making art happily, but very casually. I made mixed media sculptures, incorporating wooden blocks, plastic figures, popsicle sticks, beads and various other offbeat items. While this was long before I knew what an artist’s statement was, I was already working to understand something in my life: loss, the need for protection, the need for community. Like my father, I didn’t consider myself an artist, partly because I was raising a family and working in the nonprofit community on social justice issues at the same time.

In my 40s I was introduced to artists’ books (through my work), and I took my first art classes since elementary school.  I loved them, and eventually took a two-week workshop in book binding at the Penland School of Crafts. At Penland I saw that I was much more serious about art than I had realized, that I was in fact an artist.  When I was close to retirement I began graduate school in the book and paper art at Columbia College in Chicago. I got my MFA in 2010.

My years making art without formal training (as an outsider artist) allowed me to work unselfconsciously. I developed a rather whimsical style and point of view while confronting serious subjects. During graduate school I learned to articulate this point of view more coherently, and I found a medium that I love, paper sculpture.

 

3. The concept of the artist studio has a broad range of meanings in contemporary practice. Artists may spend much of their time in the actual studio, or they may spend very little time in it. Tell us about your individual studio practice and how it differs from or is the same as traditional notions of "being in the studio."

In fact, I have two studios, both on the North Side of Chicago, where I live. One is for making paper, and one for making sculptures of the paper. Papermaking is very wet, so my papermaking studio is in a basement.  The space is dark and damp, but it has the essential, good drainage.  My “dry studio” is in a loft building that I share with a other artists. It is a very pleasant space, with high ceilings and good light.  I make all my sculptures in the dry studio, although I often read and sketch at home.

I often say that I think with my hands. I make many maquettes until I find one that works. Then I relax into the process of making multiples of a successful one, with the number of multiples as high as 300. In earlier years all of the multiples were very similar. Now I’m more interested in wider variations on a theme.

 

4. What roles do you find yourself playing that you may not have envisioned yourself in when you first started making art?

Sometimes when I’m lugging around heavy buckets of paper pulp or climbing up and down a ladder to install work in a gallery I feel as if I’m working in heavy construction! I never expected that being an artist would be so demanding physically.

I am also surprised that the community organizing skills I learned in my career are very useful in my artist’s life.  I helped form an artists’ critique group that meets every month. I’m also active with a local sculpture organization, finding venues for exhibits. 

 

5. When do you find is the best time to make art? Do you set aside a specific time every day or do you have to work whenever time allows?

I try to set aside two or three full days each week when I can work. I don’t have internet access at my studio, and it is a huge relief to put aside that distraction. I listen to music and I work very intensely. 

 

6. How has your work changed in the past five years? How is it the same?

I moved away from figurative work in graduate school at the urging of my teachers. When I moved my studio last year, though, I unpacked many years of old sculptures and sketchbooks. I realized that figures have been a strong element of my work for many, many years. I decided to pursue figurative work again.

7. How have people such as family, friends, writers, philosophers, other artists or even pop icons had an impact on the work you do? 

I love popular religious art; its message always seems so direct and poignant.  I’m drawn to the aesthetic of Asia, whether it’s roadside shrines in India or caves with thousands of Buddhas in Laos.  I enjoy nontraditional materials, and I often shop in craft and dollar stores.

One very recent influence is an exhibit of Haitian art at the Field Museum in Chicago.  I was mesmerized by the large red and black figures that were created as sentinels for a ceremonial space. In response I created forty small, whimsical paper sculptures that are also sentinels.

Another recent and very strong influence are the novels of Marilynne Robinson. Robinson said in an interview that artists have to have the courage to testify about serious things.  She said she wants to say, “I have a sense of something sacred.” I think I want to say that too. 

 

8. Have you ever been pulled in the direction of a pursuit other than being an artist? What are your other interests? 

I spent many years in a career working for social justice, and I think I’ll always be pulled in that direction. I limit that involvement now because art is calling me much more strongly. My other great interest is travel. Travel, of course, feeds my artistic life, so there is no conflict there. 

9. Please list 5 top tags for your blog post such as location, medium, etc. 

Chicago, Illinois; paper sculpture; handmade paper; fiber sculpture; paper artist

Interviews

In response to Collective Effervescence, Terrain Biennial Fall 2021, Sixty Inches from Center, October 2021

How did Collective Effervescence come to exist? What was the inspiration or driving force behind its creation?

Collective Effervescence is the largest installation I’ve ever made, and I’m grateful to Terrain Biennial for giving me this rare opportunity. I’ve been working on this kind of sculpture for five years ago, starting with a series called “To Honor and Comfort,” tapestries made of handmade paper. From the beginning I used exactly the same technique that I used for Collective Effervescence, tying small squares together in patterns. Over the years I’ve added other materials to the tapestries – plastic, fabric, and finally aluminum cans. Collective Effervescence is the only one made entirely of cans.

I began work on this sculpture in the spring, just as we were coming out of our long Covid winter. I was ecstatic to be outside and to be with other people again. Collective effervescence is a sociological term about this kind of happiness. It describes the joy we feel as a group, a joy that is stronger that what we can feel individually.

I have a friend who says I like anything shiny. She’s exaggerating some, but aluminum cans seemed like a natural material for this work. They are very available, very colorful and very shiny. Some individual cans are beautifully designed, and that was one more reason I enjoyed using them. It made me even more aware that some of our most basic things can be beautiful. Many artists use recycled materials, but for me the recycling aspect is almost incidental. I use cans because I find them beautiful.

What else would you like to tell us about the work?

This was a joy to make. Many people were involved, saving cans, helping to put it together, and helping to install it.  I included as many people as I could, for the “collective” part and because I needed the help.

How did Collective Effervescence come to be installed at this particular home?

I asked Eden Unluata, a graduate school friend, to ask if he had any suggestions for a site for my sculpture. He said, “My friend Colette Adams has the most beautiful porch! Give her a call.” I showed Colette a sample of what I wanted to do, and she loved it. It was all very easy.

 

What mark would you like to leave on your audience?

I always wanted the work to be joyful, and people tell me it is. The combination of the bright colors, shiny cans, gentle movement in the wind and the sweet sound of the cans are all very appealing. I also wanted to take full advantage of my chance to work large, so this is not a timid piece. You almost have to react to it.

 

Were there any challenges in creating the work?

One amusing challenge was getting enough cans. Friends were saving them for me, and that was a good start. It was clear, though, that I would need many more than my friends could provide. Finally I asked a neighborhood restaurant, Oasis Fresh, if they would save them. Mirsada, the manager, was very enthusiastic and feels some ownership of the piece. She should! I took away large black garbage bags of cans from her restaurant for weeks.

 

How does Collective Effervescence relate to your larger practice?

Collective Effervescence contains signature elements of all my work, bright colors and unusual materials. It also has a spiritual element. For me, making art is an opportunity to connect beyond our day-to-day lives to larger elements and larger ideas. It reminds me that joy is available to us all.