You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August 2008.
- photo – Chantal Powell
I was not always invisible. There was a time when mummy smoothed my hair and dressed me pretty. Her friends came round.
“She is so beautiful” they said and cried.
She still has pictures of me. She shows them to visitors and says “Remember Rosemary?”
My big sister Eileen could always see me even when others fell over me or pushed me away.
Eileen would find a safe place for me and made sure I had biscuits and cake when she had her tea. She ate them herself but that didn’t matter because I wasn’t hungry.
It’s the thought that counts, I heard my Granny say.
Then Eileen grew older and ignored me too.
If friends came round to play she shut me in the cupboard with toys that had lost their batteries.
It was worse when that Boy was around.
If I tried to push between them she would look right through me to look at him.
Now they are married and live two streets away.
Dad has brought my old cot down from the attic; when he takes it there I am going too.
She will have a baby boy and I want to play with him. I wonder if he will go invisible.
Edna Eglington. From her poetry book “Living Mosaic” – Indigo Dream Press 2008. http://wwwindigodreampress.co.uk
photo - chantal powell
This beautifully sad and touching poem was written by my sister in law’s grandmother. I was especially moved when I heard the true story that was the inspiration behind the poem.
Edna wrote this poem after a friend told her the story about a woman’s still born baby. The baby’s death was at a time when still birth wasn’t really discussed and the woman’s baby was taken away from her immediately as it was felt that was for the best. This mother’s child was buried in a grave without a name, only a number serving as a marker. She had no idea where the baby lay. Years later a friend of hers managed to find the grave for her. Before taking the mother there she cleaned up the grave and planted a rosemary bush there, never realising that all those years ago the mother had named her unseen baby Rosemary.
Some portraits not of me for a change.
Thanks goes to my really, really, really, good looking model of course!
all images copyrighted
Some more black and white self portrait shots.
These are very simple just focusing on the light and shadows and enjoying how that emphasises the shape of body parts such as the arm and hand. I quite like that although they are high contrast, the subject matter still gives them a soft gentle quality.
This is the first piece I’ve made that is more thoughtful and creative than the usual fused glass that I work on, and trys to encompass some of the feelings of nostalgia, narrative, and secrets that I have been talking about. The piece was based on a beautiful Victorian trinket box (1880) that I found on ebay. The box itself is small, and has a wonderful romantic femininity about it so typical of that era. I wanted to build a narrative around that, something that suggested glimpses of past loves and seductions.
masks at midnight box - chantal powell
The box contains seven layers of glass with found objects between the different layers. It’s difficult to photograph but as you look through the glass and move the box around you can see glimpses of the different objects, from the visually obvious vintage lace in the top layer to the barely visible peacocks feather and old sheet music at the very bottom. I wanted to try and give the feeling of looking in, being granted just a glimpse of someones intimate memories and emotions. Peering through the layers of glass hopefully giving the feeling of trying to look through layers of time.
inside - masks at midnight
Precious objects (vintage buttons and single pearl) are in the lid to suggest the value of personal memories. I like the idea that the items or memories in the box retain some mystery to the viewer, leading the person to bring their own associations, create their own story, and thereby form some personal relationship with the piece.
detail from lid
The name of the piece is taken from the line of poetry “masks begun at midnight” that is included between two of the glass layers. It was from a Robert Browning poem (A Toccata Of Galuppi’s – 1855) out of an old poetry book I found in a charity shop. The entire poem can be read here: http://faculty.stonehill.edu/geverett/rb/galuppi.html
I really enjoyed making this piece, although my technical abilities are pretty basic at the moment and there are already some things I would now do slightly differently with it. I’m working on a second box at the moment, a pretty antique wooden one with an old decoupage design scratched away in the top. I would love to know what people think of this first one – any feedback would be gratefully appreciated!
photo - chantal powell
You walk into an old drawing room, footsteps echoing on the aged oak floorboards. Heavy velvet curtains cover the large windows on either end of the room, motes of dust dancing through the shafts of light between the partings. The room is empty save a low wooden table in the centre of the floor. Upon this table is a small ornate box. It sits on tiny clawed feet, the metal of the box tarnished with age now showing rich flecks of green and red between its beautifully worn design. Lying next to the box is the key to open it.
So do you? Even if you are disciplined enough not to, surely you can’t deny the desire that would be present in that situation? Imagine feeling the cool metal of the key in your hand, the sound of the lock turning and the box creaking open to reveal what lies within.
Psyche opens the golden box- John Williiam Waterhouse 1903
The lure of hidden secrets, the arousal of curiosity and desire for discovery. This is the wonder of clandestine boxes. A pull that throughout stories and history people (women in particular it appears!) seem unable to resist. Pandora and Psyche being two obvious examples! When I was dating the man who is now my husband I let myself into his flat one day while he was out to prepare a Valentines day surprise for him. On his bedside table sat a tiny oval box covered in deep green velvet. Everything about the box said there was a beautiful engagement ring sitting inside. I will leave it to you to determine how strong my willpower was that day!
It does seem a particularly feminine appeal to me – I think because I associate women with treasuring precious keepsakes and secrets. A woman’s trinket or jewelry box holding items that are cherished and steeped with associations of love and passion. Value is bestowed on objects simply by the act of them being kept in this shrine like place.
When entering someone else’s box, the details of the secrets or treasures within remain a mystery but the gesture of uncovering and discovery has a wonderful meaning of its own. Its for that reason that I am keen to incorporate boxes into my artwork. The idea that the viewer participates and is excitied by the experience, that they make a choice to open the box, become the voyeur and go on a journey.
A Perturbed Spirit - 1995
I wanted to share this artist whose work I love. Art created from found objects with a history and narrative, often with a wonderful Victorian flair about them. They embody that sense of nostalgia, hidden memories and fragility that I find so intoxicating!
Keith Lo Bue is an assemblage artist whose work has been exhibited in the US, UK, Germany, Australia, New Zealand and France. His imagery has been used by industries such as Disney and Pepsi, and collectors of his work include Robin Williams, Robert De Niro, David Bowie, Oliver Sachs, and Gloria Vanderbilt.
A Flash of Memory - 2002
Keith’s first solo exhibition took place in 1989 and was entitled Oddments. Since then his art has received awards from the Museum of Modern Art, the Guggenheim Museum, and the Museum of Art and Design. A lot of his art is designed to be wearable jewelry and is now included in many fine collections and featured in a several books. His creations have been described as “diminutive museums, reliquaries of dreams” (Raymond Smith).
One of the aspects of his work I really enjoy is the opportunity provided to the viewer to discover more upon exploration of the piece. Often the piece is waiting to reveal more when opened such as with this glorious brooch shown below made from a ladies compact case.
Brooch Closed- Inner Life - 2005
Brooch Open - Inner Life - 2005
Of his own work Keith writes,
“The work I produce has always involved making connections between disparate phenomena: reality and surreality; preservation and decay; memory and forgetting. Their is a deliberate effort to create in my artwork a fragile technology of bone and stone, exhumed from the scattered shards of lives preceding our own. In this way I can strike an empathy with those who reached for the promise of progress with one hand while shielding their fallibility with the other.”
Reading my friend Dean’s blog about how film noir is inspiring his painting at the moment, http://deanmelbourne.wordpress.com/2008/08/02/film-noir-image/, I just loved the high contrast black & white images in these movie stills, their use of shadows, and dramatic narrative. So yesturday I took my camera down to the woods and attempted to take some self portraits that had something of that feel.
Believe it or not there’s an angel on Ruskin
I saw her up there with my own green eyes
She danced alone among the chimneys
Her golden wings caught the evening sun
Hardly knew if I was still breathing
As I lost my way on the eastern stairs
She trashed my car she trashed my paintings
Oh As ribbons flew from her midnight hair
I was always in love’s power
yes, yes, down in love’s power
down on my knees
All was lost and
All was broken
Brought to heel
Like an anxious guest
On the eastern stairs
I stole some token
I chased a kiss
On her golden crest
I was always down in love’s power
Yes yes, always down in love’s power
Down on my knees
You would fall
Should you look into her eyes
Believe it or not there’s an angel on Ruskin
I hear her laugh and I hear her sing
There’s evil abroad there’s a stranger on Ruskin
And memory lies like a girl on the wing
Elizabeth Fraser singing with Chris Thompson – song is from The Bathers’ 1995 album “Sunpowder”
Have a look at Chris Thompson’s other song lyrics on their website http://www.btinternet.com/~jimmysmith/ Incredibly poetic!
image taken from "The Venetian Collection" - London
I was talking with a friend the other day about masks and was thinking later about how wonderfully evocative they are of mystery and seduction. Think of the exquisite European masked balls or the infamous intrigue of the masked highwayman.
leather venetian mask from samanthapeach.com
I think people see the appeal of masks as the freedom to play out a role and be out of character but I wonder if its more the case that the mask gives us freedom to actually express true aspects of ourselves that we long to expose but feel too restricted or frightened to in our “normal” lives. After all how often is our true identity hidden under the invisible masks we wear for different people and situations. Are we all dancing a formal dance together with our masks safely in place?
The Venetian Collection based in London sell amazing masks that are designed and made in workshops in Venice. They supplied a number of the masks used in the film Eyes Wide Shut where men in black cloaks wandered between decadent, dreamlike rooms containing masked women. As well as their London stores they have an online shop http://www.maskandwigworld.co.uk if you fancy sampling a little mystique of your own.
Recent comments