Dancing on the Roof is a 8 foot by 16 foot mural that is in the process of being painted on the side of the Kirby Cultural Arts Complex in Roxboro. It is a joyful example of how people of all cultures are the same when inspired by great rhythms. Everyone loves to dance and make merry with music. We are all more alike than we are different from each other. Music and art bring us together like nothing else can. Designed to be a welcoming and connecting work, this mural will add to the community a joyous hope for the future.
Recently I have been exploring new materials to spice up the appeal of my tapestries. These first two images show you part of a piece I named, The River Runs Through. At the left you see the strips I used that were torn from a variety of sari silks. The rich variety of colors and textures keep my attention sharp as I weave, tuck and turn different colors into place.
Another type of material used for weft is created from selvedge scraps that are gathered in bulk from a retail company that creates fine geometric wool blankets and flannel throws. These colors tend to be much more muted and earth toned. The shag that results from the finely fringed edges tucked into position on my tapestries make an appealing statement.
Stop on by my gallery sometime to see these in person. The first two weekends in November I participate in the Orange Country Artists Guild studio tour. Watch for the sign # 70 which points your way to my place. And visit my website to see the many different types of fiber art I offer.
Living in Western society today, we are constantly reminded of the dangers of polluting and destroying our environment with not only carbon emissions but also the simple detritus of everyday life. Plastic bags, bottles, and more clog our waterways and oceans, proving hazardous and often fatal to creatures of forest, sea, and air. There are many art installations which focus on these problems: sculptures and constructions and wall art made up of bottle caps, cans, rubber bands, machine parts, all the actual trash we discard, on display for the viewer. There seem to be fewer works however, that utilize trash but transform the humble prosaic elements into things of beauty, which the viewer can enjoy as a beautiful piece, one which is not preaching, shaming or in service to any political or cultural agenda.
Social cooperatives in many poverty- ridden regions in Africa have succeeded admirably in recent years in harnessing ubiquitous trash to create beautiful and useful objects, such as purses and vessels woven from telephone wire, tin cans, plastic bags, and old magazines amongst others. Many of us in the US and Europe have marveled at the extraordinary large-scale assemblages created in the workshops of El Anatsui, a Ghanaian sculptor working in Nigeria.
Recently I attended a workshop at Springmaid Mountain near Spruce Pine in North Carolina. There were many enjoyable and playful projects around the new fluid acrylics, mediums and “interference” paints. The last project turned out to be the most interesting one for me, as I love collage and love a challenge. With an hour left of class time, our instructor told us to dig through our trash and find anything we thought we could use in a “trash shrine.” Her inspiration had been trips to Mexico where she saw many roadside shrines, often with bright colors and shiny surfaces. Grabbing and slapping together textures, colors, and shapes, painting the glued down design with loose, watery washes, dipping the brush into paints intuitively, and letting them run and mix on the surface, created unexpected success. I have enjoyed making more of these “shrines,” so-called because of the basically cruciform composition, although my trash at home has not yielded the colorful wrappers from candy consumed during the workshop!
I find a rigid surface such as wood panel, to be best for collage where one wants to apply pressure to adhere objects. Ampersand makes great panels of all sizes, with different width cradles and different surfaces. I used heavy matte gel to glue, and Golden Liquid Acrylics to paint. So far, I have five “shrines” in series and hope to make more. What to call the series? Someone has suggested “Detrartus,” art from detritus. What do you think?
For inspiration and great techniques, look at the two books by Mary Todd Beam, published by North Light. Mary is eighty-six years old now, but she continues to create powerful works using her trademark mixed media style and personal symbolism.
See my art at www.jillian-goldberg.pixels.com and follow me on Facebook/Jillian Goldberg Art and on Instagram /jillzgoldberg
Painting loosely is a long-time goal and a continuing struggle. Although I am proud of paintings that are fairly precise, none of my paintings would ever be confused for a photograph. Nor would I want them to be. But, since most of my paintings begin from photos I have taken, they exert a strong pull to reproduce them in some or all of the detail. Perhaps if I had the skill and patience to paint highly detailed images, I would feel differently, but I doubt it. The artists I admire most are those that suggest an image so cleverly that I, the viewer, complete the image in my own mind. My goal is to draw accurately, but paint loosely, with lots of color. Sometimes a very limited palette can be a wonderful challenge.
I have a list of art goals. Here are the first four:
- To suggest, not to make explicit
- To be accurate, but loose
- To intrigue, and never quite answer all the questions
- To delight, but not surfeit
The painting seen above at the left — titled Let’s Tackle Uncle Bob — is based on the photo at the right, which is one of a series of photos I took from a great distance several years ago of four children playing with their father and uncle at a wedding reception at an Orange County farm. All are wearing their Sunday best, which explains a little of the mystery of this rough-house.
Let me evaluate. I think these kids and the man look plausible. The faces and hands are definitely not explicit, but are accurate. The idea of the painting intrigues me, and there is a suspended feeling about what came before and what comes next. The background is only suggested roughly—enough to get a feeling where the horizon line is, and the viewer may wonder if the blue and green mounds are trees or clouds.
See more of my work at my website.