Recently, dear friend and collaborator Martino Pietropoli posted images from his visit to Hiroshi Sugimoto’s Glass Tea House Mondrian at the Venice Biennale, on the island of San Giorgio Maggiore . While googling it, I came across a notice that Sugimoto also currently had an exhibition up at San Francisco’s Fraenkel Gallery, which would be ending the following week.
My daughter and I rushed into the city late that Saturday afternoon to catch the show an hour before closing. We entered, realizing to our delight that we were the only ones there, able to view & discuss the art freely. A short while later, however, we heard someone behind us enter and begin snapping photos. When we moved to step back so he could get a better shot he demurred, explaining that he wanted photos with us intentionally in the shot. He turned out to be professional photographer Richard Nagler, who’d just published Looking at Art, the Art of Looking, a book about the relationship between artwork and the viewer, and their interdependant dynamic. He was kind enough to forward me a photo of us examining Sugimoto’s piece titled In Praise of Shadows, itself a tribute to the Jun’inchiro Tanazaki’s book, with the following text:
Japanese novelist Jun’ichiro Tanizaki disdained the “violent” artificial light wrought by modern civilization. I, too, am an anachronist: rather than live at the cutting edge of the contemporary, I feel more at ease in the absent past.
Domesticating fire marks humankind’s ascendancy over other species. For tens of thousands of years, we have illuminated the night with flames. Reflecting upon this, I decided to record “the life of the candle”. Late one midsummer night, I thre open the windows and invited in the night breeze. Lighting a candle, I opened my camera lens. After several hours of wavering in the breeze, the candle burned out. Savoring the dark, I slowly closed the shutter. The candle’s life varied on any given night – short, intensely burning nights and long, constantly glowing lights – each different, yet equally lovely in its afterglow.
I left thinking about a Paulo Coelho quote from the book The Alchemist: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
Well, we’ve done it! The lease is signed, and our upcoming show finally has a home. Our place is a light-filled 3,600 SF space in the fabulous space formerly occupied by Black Oaks Books on Shattuck Ave, in the heart of the gourmet ghetto in North Berkeley. The space is being made available to us via the very generous support of Dana Ellsworth, Vice President of Rue-Ell Enterprises, the owners of the space.
It also would never have happened, without the helpful intervention on our behalf of our local councilmember, Laurie Capitelli (and his wonderful soon-to-be-retired assistant, Jill Martinucci.)
One of my collaborators, Jess Williams, and I had a conversation recently about the importance of volunteering – investing time in your community and finding ways to contribute. The value is not just to those who are are on the receiving end of your efforts, it is also deeply beneficial to you. Building relationships, connecting yourself in meaningful and personal ways to the issues that concern you and are important to your life – this all gives richness and meaning to our lives.
Many thanks to everyone who has been supportive – in all manner of ways – and to all who have helped make this possible. We could never have done it with you!
Mark your calendars! The 50/50 LIGHT show will run from Saturday, October4th thru Tuesday, October 28th. The opening will be on Sunday, October 12th, 2014.
Summer solstice is upon us today – the longest day of the year – when the northern hemisphere most directly faces the sun, giving us greatest amount of time in light.
Ancient Druids celebrated summer solstice with traditions dating back thousands of years. They believed that everything in existence is interconnected, that energy – the stuff we’re made of, our spirits – is part of a continuum which makes up the whole universe. They believed that we are unique individuals, but also are part of something bigger. Everything in nature is cyclical, the cycle of the year, which fundamentally affects everything we do – when we grow food, when we harvest, and when we hide away next to the fire. Participation during changes of seasons and observation of the changes made one better attuned to the cycles within oneself. Modern Druids continue to gather in ancient places specifically to be part of the continuum with their ancestors. When they gather at Stonehenge during summer solstice, they’re in the same place for the same reason as their ancestors 5,000 years ago – to be in a place marked as special, intentionally chosen for these observances, to become part of something bigger than themselves.
For me, the 50/50 LIGHT exhibition in October is a celebration of a cycle – five full decades – and the urge to gather round with the creative folks who have shaped me, my art, and my life at this auspicious moment.
This past Friday, June 20th, 2014, was also Midsummer Eve, also called St. John’s Eve. St. John is the patron saint of beekeepers. It’s a time when the hives are full of honey. The full moon that occurs this month on Friday the 13th was called the Mead Moon, because honey was fermented to make mead. That’s where the word “honeymoon” comes from, because it’s also a time for lovers. An old Swedish proverb says, “Midsummer Night is not long but it sets many cradles rocking.”
Midsummer dew was said to have special healing powers. In Mexico, people decorate wells and fountains with flowers, candles, and paper garlands. They go out at midnight and bathe in the lakes and streams. Midsummer Eve is also known as Herb Evening. Legend says that this is the best night for gathering magical herbs. Supposedly, a special plant flowers only on this night, and the person who picks it can understand the language of the trees. Flowers were placed under a pillow with the hope of important dreams about future lovers. Shakespeare set his play “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” on this night. It tells the story of two young couples who wander into a magical forest outside Athens. In the play, Shakespeare wrote, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”
Historically, the name Deborah means “Queen Bee”. The origin of the name is Hebrew; and in the Old Testament of the Bible, Deborah was the name of a judge, prophetess and lawmaker. Over the centuries this name has traditionally been associated with hard work, persistence, and importance to society for which bees were known. As such, I pay homage to bees here with a necklace and earrings I made from 18KY gold and black diamonds.
As for true love, the impulse to create and manifest symbols and art in celebration of such unions is with me constantly and, hopefully, always will be.
info on Druids excerpted fr International Business Times, 6/19/14
This yearlong exploration of light has continued to surprise, delight and occasionally also startle:
“Thinking of your light exhibition. Did you know that one of the earliest forms of light for indoors was to stuff a wick-like material down the throat of an oily Icelandic sea bird and let it burn as it sat on the dinner table?”
This was shared by collaborator Jeffrey Brice Ornstein who always has the best stories…. Oddly and coincidentally one of my 25 projects will feature the recent documentation of ‘an animal product as edible table lighting’… a life-altering experience for me, but more on that later.
Collaborator Amy Cranch recently forwarded a poem by Mary Oliver which celebrates – amongst other things – light. The poem reveres ordinary life, attention, and a recognition of the sublime within the mundane.
She tells me that this, along with innumerable other sources of inspiration, is fueling her ideas for our collaboration which she is in the process of creating with her husband, Marc L’Italien, and their talented support crew of dancers + videographer.
Every day I see or hear something that more or less
kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle
in the haystack of light. It was what I was born for – to look, to listen,
to lose myself inside this soft world – to instruct myself over and over
in joy, and acclamation. Nor am I talking about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful, the very extravagant – but of the ordinary, the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations. Oh, good scholar, I say to myself, how can you help
but grow wise with such teachings as these – the untrimmable light
of the world, the ocean’s shine, the prayers that are made out of grass?
~ Mary Oliver, poet
Cari Borja has been in the business of making spectacular outfits since 2000.
In 2006 we became friends when I was in need of a very special piece for a big jewelry opening, and I commissioned her to make something.
In addition to a beautiful jacket, a beautiful friendship ensued. Here are a few snippets from a recent conversation;
Where did you start out in life?
I was born in an Army hospital in Shirley, MA… but I was conceived in Oahu!
What’s your first light memory?
Roller-skating. The disco ball and laser shows, the shadows. Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker’s light saber. And strangely that all came together at Roll-On-America in Leominster, Massachusetts.
Light has always been about reflections mirrored, illuminated and refracted. Whether it was the rhinestones on my roller-skating outfits refracted in someone’s face, the broken glass of the disco ball at the roller-rink during couples skate, illuminating those going by, or the glass windows of the skate shop that reflected the state of your hair during practice sessions… all of this, dependent on light and its rays.
You’re a designer – what do you remember as the first project you ever built?
The first art project memory I have is of a nativity scene collection I built when I was about 7 or 8 years old. There were very elaborate painted details on the folds of the garments and the faces of the children playing their parts…
Tell us a little about your philosophy and your work background.
Thinking about art, before vs after children, the importance of practicality – my mantra = DO MORE, BE MORE, DO/BE…
The biggest fear is losing your memory – recognizing the importance of doing with your own hands to help retain memory before it fades. It makes me think of the Kierkegaard quote:
Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.
I think about the way we layer memory and the importance of documentation, and the necessity of circling back around.
What’s the most fun part of what you do?
Hmm… I think of that Twyla Tharp quote that has to do with the everyday… which is especially true right now with developing my FashionFilmFood blog, but for sure in my clothes over the past decade…
Everything is raw material. Everything is relevant. Everything is usable. Everything feeds into my creativity. But without proper preparation, I cannot see it, retain it, use it.
~ Twyla Tharp
[Mariano] Fortuny. Madeleine Vionnet. [her daughter] Royal! I learned a lot about color dressing Royal, via Baby Gap. Baby Gap was really the first with the fabulous sensibility of particular color combinations. That inspired me – especially for adults – those combinations had really only been used for kiddos until then.
What influences you most?
My influences are structurally organic. Punctum – the element within a photo that makes it *ART* rather than mere documentation… The infinite possibilities of reading, unlimited options available – which one to choose? – possibilities and unknowingness.
Thoughts on your business, describe Cari Borja in 2020.
Focused, traveling, doing everything that I love, with intervals of elsewhere… and books written, collections made, salon dinners around the world.
Be sure to check out Cari’s fabulous new blog FashionFilmFood to read about all of her latest adventures!
Lumino kinetic art is a combination of light and movement. One if its earliest proponents, Hungarian born Bauhaus member László Moholy-Nagy (1895-1946), is regarded as one of the fathers of the lumino kinetic art movement.
One of the main focuses for Moholy-Nagy was photography. He coined the term the New Vision for his belief that photography could create a whole new way of seeing the outside world that the human eye could not. He experimented with the (camera-less) photographic process of exposing light sensitive paper with objects overlain on top of it, called photograms.
In 1922, Moholy-Nagy created his Light-Space Modulator, one of the first Light Art pieces to combine Kinetic Art; a device with moving parts meant to have light projected through it in order to create mobile light reflections and shadows on nearby surfaces. With its gleaming glass and metal surfaces of mobile perforated disks, a rotating glass spiral, and a sliding ball, the Light-Space Modulator created the effect of in motion. The geometric complexity of the design and the shapes created by shadows and light conveyed the dynamic possibilities of both machine and camera. Made for an exhibition held in Paris during the summer of 1930, it is often interpreted as a kinetic sculpture but, as a pioneer achievement of kinetic sculpture, it might also be seen as one of the earliest examples of Light Art.
Moholy-Nagy is also the author of one of my favorite design books – Vision In Motion. Here’s one enlightening excerpt:
“…the last step in this technique is the emphasis on integration through a conscious search for relationships – artistic, scientific, technical as well as social. The intuitive working mechanics of a genius gives a clue to this process. The unique ability of the genius can be approximated by everyone if only its essential feature be apprehended: the flashlike act of connecting elements not obviously belonging together. Their constructive relationships, unnoticed before, produce new result.
If the same methodology were used generally in all fields we would have the key to our age – seeing everything in relationship.”
I recently caught the Art [in] Science exhibit (@ the Energy Biosciences Institute jointly presented with Science@Cal) – a fascinating multi-exhibit exploration of the many different ways science can be expressed through art.
Among the many interesting projects and their creators, I met Shoshana Zambryski-Stachel, (daughter of Dr. Patricia Zambryski, Cal Professor of Plant and Microbial Biology), artist/creator of an emulsion photographic process – an unimaginably delicate effect – created via photographic exposure process onto the inside surface of eggshells. She describes her process in more detail here.
The results are breathtaking, whimsical and utterly unexpected; a perfect example of how relatively simple scientific methods of light manipulation can be applied to create ingenious artistic effect.
In one of my own upcoming explorations of light I will also be exploring the simultaneously durable/fragile environment of the calcium cabonate crystals + protein matrix form, better known as the eggshell. Stay tuned!
A poem to contemplate.
The eye is the lamp of the body so I tried
to make a world where all I ate was light. Butterflies
complete a similar labor in the summer
garden, beating their wings slowly like a healthy
person, the kind of person who runs for fun, could
run from an attacker, eats greens in the same
quantity as the salty meats the storytelling part
of us appears to favor. I couldn’t decide
whether I wanted to stay alive or wanted to go
faster, they appeared to contradict each other, I tried
in all I did to eat light. I left the argument
about the difference between a slave and a servant
on the table though I think what I think is that
consent to servitude is as much a fiction as a butterfly
having a nervous breakdown because of the beauty
of the lavender. The longer your hunger takes
to find a shape the longer you can hold it. Consider the butterfly,
only at rest in the middle of consumption, but even
then practicing for departure, for disappearance,
closing in the middle of the landscape.
Trying to manage a world in which all you eat
is light is difficult. Labor, and the lungs should be like wings
of the butterfly beating, closing, slowly, the moonlight
tensing the edge of each, almost lifting the edge of each
towards the middle distance. So all that I consume
can make me healthy, illuminate my throat
and the interstate of my digestive tract
with what a butterfly’s been swimming in.
Years ago I came across a slim book by Japanese author Jun’ichirō Tanizaki titled In Praise of Shadows (1933). It’s a wonderful meditation on aesthetics, which contrasts Traditional Eastern vs Modern Western thought and values. One excerpt that especially resonates,
“Such is our way of thinking—we find beauty not in the in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, the one thing against another creates.”
Recently, I had a great discussion with collaborator Jen Burke on the topic of shadows. Over the past several years, she has nurtured a connection which has focused around body work, and we are contemplating expanding on that work in our collaborative art piece.
Light is energy: it brightens, warms, illuminates, reveals. In pursuing these positive aspects of light we often neglect the inverse quality – one that paradoxically best reveals light: the contrasting absence of it, or shadows.
Shadows – in a wide range from subtly muted pale grey to highest contrasting stark black – transform objects in a multitude of ways to exaggerate, distort, create mood or add drama. A crisp crescent of darkness below the fullness of an orb implies heaviness of weight physically, while the murky pallor of a mid-winter sky conveys shadows weight emotionally. They illustrate an uncanny ability to lift or subdue mood, as they come and go.
Shadows are the yin to light’s yang.