Go out and name your world

March 12th, 2014

Last Monday evening I presented a slide lecture for the Hamilton Naturalists’ Club at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Burlington. The title was “Roots and Rocks: From Darkness to Light”. It was a talk that meandered through various themes I’ve been working on for the past few years – trees, rock, soil, roots and what happens beneath the surface. Sure, Roots and Rocks, obvious title! But why the qualifier, From Darkness to Light?

HARMONY 2014 36X30 s

Harmony 2014 36×30″

A while back I found an intriguing video of my hero, Canadian author Margaret Atwood, being interviewed by Lorna Dueck, in an episode of Context called “God’s Gardeners”.  She was accompanied by Leah and Markku Kostamo who head the Canadian branch of an international environmental organization called A Rocha. It was classic Atwood, filled with her wry wit and plenty to sink one’s teeth into. (I also loved how she nimbly fielded a barrage of cringeworthy questions – I digress, ahem) But the most significant question came at the end. What can each of us do, as individuals, to help make the world a better place?

Markku offered three simple suggestions:
1.   Know where your food comes from
2.   Know where your garbage goes to
3.   Go out and name your world

The first two points, although harder to put in practice than they sound, are no-brainers, elegantly tying together many issues of rampant consumerism that is eating up our beautiful Earth. But it’s the third point that hit home with me, and I am going to tell you why.

Go out and name your world. As a horticulturalist and science-a-holic, I love learning the names of the wild things I come across. A snazzy new plant? What can it be? I get a good look, grab a leaf, and head home in a hurry to look it up online or in one of my books. Once it’s got a name, I can’t help but ponder: What is its life story? Where else does it grow and where does it come from? What bugs does it host, what animal does it feed? What do its seeds and flowers look like? Does it have medicinal properties?  It all begins with naming. And I would never have met this plant had I not first ‘gone out’ and explored my surroundings. I would never have had the opportunity to love it.

Lorraine and rare Columbo plant

Me and the rare Columbo plant enjoying a staring contest at Cartwright Sanctuary near Dundas, ON.

However, many things in our natural world are not so easy to name. They can be too small to see. They can be hidden deep inside the bark of a tree or up in the branches beyond reach. They can be nocturnal or secretive or shy and complicated. And they can be buried and tangled deep in the soil.

N EW LIFE 2007 12X12 copy 2

New Life 2007 12×12″

Enter our biologists:  dedicated individuals who devote the full force of their knowledge, time and resources to uncharted territory. Where would we be without these scientists, naming and knowing more and more of the wonders of our universe?

But herein lies a problem. Scientists work hard… but their skill set may not always include effective communication beyond what is necessary to spread the word amongst other scientists. And really, we can’t expect them to do it all, can we? In comes Opportunity! With a science background, love of nature, and passion for imagery, could I become a visual spokesperson though which a scientist can share discoveries? Yes. This is what I want to do.

This is why I called my lecture Roots and Rocks: From Darkness to Light.  To me, art making is an all-encompassing and spiritually fulfilling quest. I hope to leave the world a better place: to bring to light these hidden worlds in such a way that others can see, feel and marvel as I do.

Because we can’t love something until it has a name.

SHADOW 2 2008 24X18

“Even the darkness is not dark to You.
The night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to You.”
Psalm 139:12

 

White Pines with Cat

March 4th, 2014

The light hearted couple who requested this commission already had three of my pieces and several of my husbands’. They’d just bought a property in cottage country, Ontario, and wanted a wall piece in their large dining room, where they entertain a lot. They had spent a lifetime canoeing and camping extensively in all parts of Ontario, so it was clear from the outset that the subject matter would be White Pines of Georgian Bay. However as animal lovers and devoted cat owners, they had another request: they would like birds, and a cat, somewhere in the picture.

WHITE PINES WITH CAT 2014S

White Pines with Cat 2014 24×48″
(can you spot the cat?)

I love animals as much as I love a challenge, and this was not the first time I’d been asked to incorporate wild creatures. For one large commission I made in 2008, the client wished for all the genera of creation: plants, fungi, bugs, birds, fish, amphibians, reptiles, and mammals. The toughest part was the mammals…. how to make it all work without looking like a Disney production? Plus the space was filling up! The solution?  To curl a sleeping chipmunk into a crevice underground. Everyone was happy:

7 Days of Creation 2008 sm jpeg

The Seven Days of Creation 2008 – Lots of animals here!

7 Days serpent and ants

Fish, ants, snake….

CHIPMUNK - 7 DAYS

…. and chipmunk, in hibernation

Taking a cue from that experience, I embraced my cat lovin’ side, and settled a sleeping feline at the foot of a White Pine in the piece:

The Cat

This cat is not worried about the weather.

The Mighty Mitochondria

February 22nd, 2014
Detail of Microcosm

Detail of Microcosm

I get all kinds of commissions, from very large (17 feet), to very small (6×12”). Sometimes a client simply wants a piece that ‘looks like’ one I’ve already made, but most projects are far more complicated. I rarely turn one down though. Thinking back, some of the most memorable, cherished and not, moments of my art career came to me via commissions.

So, just before Christmas 2013, I got a call from the wife of a retired Professor of Biochemistry who was about to enjoy his 80th birthday. Knowing of my interest in the sciences, she wondered if I might create a wall piece to celebrate her husband’s research in mitochondrial biogenesis. Now I had heard of mitochondria in my Science courses, ummmm…. literally back in the last century, but couldn’t, at that moment, recall a single thing about them. My right brain raced as we discussed practical matters like size, shape and timing.

Then I thought, what the heck… that’s what Google is for, right? And I love abstracts. Thus began the steep learning curve from mitochondrially-challenged to mitochondrially-knows-just-enough-to-make-a-wall-hanging.

Just so all that knowledge doesn’t go to waste, let’s get up to speed on mitos. They are small, really small: less than 1 micrometer in size. They live inside most of the cells of living organisms. They are often described as “cellular power plants” because they generate most of the cell’s supply of energy. Electron micrograph photos show globular forms filled with parallel strands (threads! Yes!), and either alone or nestled amongst others of their kind. They can both divide and recombine. The reasons scientists are interested in them are many – with implications for health, aging, growth and even memory.

Some of this was coming back to me. Could it be my own mitochondria were dancing?

Here is a single mitochondrion.

I’ve always trusted in my ability to rise up to the occasion, however happy or dire. For this project, as with most others, there was research – reading, gathering images, making rough sketches, pondering techniques. I drifted off at night thinking about possible layouts.  After a few weeks, it was time to commit to paper. With a few attempts and some tweaking, this was the result:

A coloured pencil sketch of Microcosm

A coloured pencil sketch of Microcosm

The colours came from electron micrograph images of the interiors of cells. I wanted to show all the energy at the moment of division, so one of the mitos broke out from the border. The dark background provided an atmosphere of mystery while also creating a foil for the bright neon colours.

I sent the drawing off to the client with bated breath. Normally after viewing a first attempt, the client comes back to me with all kinds of suggestions and changes, but not this lady! … It was a solid ” GO FOR IT!”

The next challenge was technique. This design was quite different from recent work and would require more attention to the strong clean lines, to stand clear from all the background details. For the solution, I harkened back to 2002 and 2009, recalling two series of Seed designs I’d made with the same sharp edges (image below). Great! A precedent!

SEED - KENTUCKY COFFEE 2003 17X25

Kentucky Coffee Seed 2003 17×25″
Here I used a collage technique that provided a nice crisp contrast with the background

I cut the globe shapes in fabric, leaving the edges bare and crisp, filling in the centres with other fabrics and clippings. Once the globe shapes were done, I added the interior strands using strips of a semi-transparent print. They looked good but a bit washed out. Would couching a contrasting yarn around them create more contrast? Oh yeah! And it was pleasant, meditative work, not at all the chore I had anticipated. The design did change somewhat – it always does as I’m working on the real thing. That bottom mito needed to be whole, not cut off.

A real closeup

A real closeup, since you asked….

Then came the finishing: backing, batting, quilting, sleeve…. Ta-da!!! Six weeks after that first call, “Microcosm” was delivered, rolled up in a cardboard box we hoped would escape detection until Presentation Day, in early February.  The final word?  Instant recognition, and very well received.

MICROCOSM 2014 36X19S

Microcosm 2014 36×19″ Fabric wall hanging by Lorraine Roy

 

 

On the Rock: Merging Art and Ecology – a new exhibition!

February 17th, 2014
THE OUTCROPPING 2014 24X48 copy

THE OUTCROPPING 2014 24X48

Hello everyone,

Thought I would post a short note while I wait for my very cold studio to warm up. For weeks, it’s been in the minus tens here in Southwestern Ontario. The hot summer and cozy fall feel like distant memories and we are all longing for a touch of spring. The snow on either side of our drive is neck deep.

Perfect time to give you the scoop on an upcoming group show, soon to open at our local Carnegie Gallery in Dundas.

Just in the past year, I’ve had the great pleasure of learning about an international Christian organization called A Rocha. Their mandate is to engage in scientific research, environmental education and community-based conservation projects, and they are open to all faiths and cultures. A new A Rocha centre is becoming established in Ontario, with a 95-acre rural property in Flamborough, just south of Freelton (a pleasant 20 minute drive from my home). Cedar Haven Farm has both wild and cultivated acreages, as well as a historic house, a pond, a few barns, and animal enclosures.

FENCEROW 1 2014 24X24 copy

FENCEROW 1 2014 24X24

What better way to promote this organization than with art? We decided to approach ten artists, all working in different mediums, with an invitation: to visit the property and create unique visual responses to the land, with the results to be shown in an exhibition. The artists were delighted with the idea, and Carnegie Gallery accepted our proposal with great enthusiasm. The exhibition runs from March 7 to 30, with an opening reception at 7:30 on March 7.

Of course, I am fully involved with the project, and so is my photographer husband. I will tell you more about the other artists in a future post, but for now I wanted to share my resulting work. On my many visits in three seasons, I was most taken with the way wild areas and fencerows contrasted with the cultivated fields. Bedrock and swampland prevented full use of all the property for agriculture, but a system of trails made all the land accessible. The photos in this post are of the three works I made for the exhibition. I am looking forward to seeing it all come together on March 7!

WILD APPLE 2014 24X36 copy
WILD APPLE 2014 24X36

The Charity Fundraiser: A good idea for artists?

February 9th, 2014

Hello everyone,

I was asked by the Canadian Artists Representation of Ontario (CARFAC) to write about my experience in donating artwork for Charity Fundraisers. There has been considerable discussion about this topic over the past many years, pro and con, and I was very happy to throw my own opinions into the mix. You may have seen this article which has been circulating on Social Media. While I agree with many of the points in the article, I continue to donate in a way that is working for me. I would love to know what your experience is, and how you are dealing with the issues. Let’s have some discussion!

Here is the interview:

– What was your experience with fundraisers over the years?

I have donated work to all kinds of organizations with all kinds of setups for auctioning, from silent to live to online. Results varied wildly from my work being withdrawn for not reaching the starting bid, to selling way over its estimated value. I was getting up to a dozen requests per year (often still do). Over time, it became evident that saying Yes to each one was spreading my generosity a bit too thin.

I now participate in three kinds of fundraisers:

  1. One event  for which I make a special piece each year, because I believe in the organization and want to support it to my utmost
  2. Two to four yearly auctions that give back up to 50% of sales, for which I donate older works
  3. Timeraiser, that pays the full requested value of accepted works

I prefer donating my work to giving money – it’s a more personal way to give back to my community. Plus, I enjoy attending the auctions – when they are well done, they are a lot of fun.

St Ignatius Bean was made specially for the Ignatius Jesuit Centre Silent Auction in 2013

– Have you noticed any negative or positive effects of fundraisers on the sale and value of your artwork (outside of fundraisers)?

I am unconvinced that exposure via fundraisers is beneficial for my career, but by the same token I am equally unconvinced that by participating, I significantly reduce the value of my work. I do believe the public and collectors admire and value artists for their generosity, as they should.

I make a living from my work so I have a vested interest in maintaining its value. I have not noticed any effect from participating in fundraisers one way or the other. I’m secure in the value of my work, and I’m glad there are ways for people to possibly acquire a piece of mine if they can’t afford the full price. I make sure all parties know that I NEVER donate new work, except for the special event mentioned above. Many people have contacted me after auctions, filled with joy, which makes me happy too. Older work would otherwise go into storage, and what use is that to anyone?

Courage was in the Burlington Art Centre Live Auction 2014

– Over the years, did you notice any trends in fundraiser standards? 

Some organizations are aware they depend on a sector of society that can ill afford a constant flow of donations, so they are reimbursing framing costs, or offering a percentage of the proceeds. Of course, this raises their chances to acquire good work, so it’s a great incentive for them.

– Do you have suggestions about how to deal with organizations that are not considerate when it comes to fundraisers?  

It’s important to remember that organizers always have the best of intentions, and most are volunteers: they are passionate about their own cause but perhaps ill-informed about what happens from the artists’ side. When I explain that artists must submit the value of the piece as income, making the charitable receipt useless in most cases, they are astonished. So all I can say is, please remain polite and calm, give them the information needed to make their own decisions, and then say NO until you are comfortable with the situation.

– What advice can you give other artists considering donating artwork?

1. You can say NO whenever you want, guilt free.

2. Never donate new work. If the organization doesn’t like it, then they may quit asking. So be it. Are you embarrassed to donate old pieces? Think about it: if your new piece gets poor results, it will be even more awkward!

3. Be choosy. You don’t have to say YES to every request, even if it’s a good cause. They are all good causes! Get informed about their audience and promotion: what is the quality of the usual offerings? Are they sensitive to good display or will they simply prop your piece up amongst the fridge magnets in a dark corner? Will they include your contact information with their publicity?

4. Decide on your favourites and stick to them. If there’s any financial benefit to be had, it’s by repeating your presence so the audience looks forward to seeing your work each year. Repetition can pay off, with people remembering and contacting you later. Also, this makes it easier to turn down all the other requests.

5. Don’t donate expensive works to organizations that are auctioning off small items. In other words, find out the most common price point and choose your work accordingly. That way, both you and the organization will get the most out of your donation.

Fissure #4 was purchased by Timeraiser for Auction in 2013

Fissure #4 was purchased by Timeraiser for Auction in 2013

Terra Silva: A Return to the Roots

February 7th, 2014

Hello all,

Last month, after a four month wait since applying, I was awarded a generous grant to pursue a project very dear to my heart. The grant is the Ontario Arts Council Franco-Ontarian Arts Grant for Established Artists, and it is meant to help artists set aside time and resources to creating a body of work.

snoopy

SNOOPY DOING LORRAINE’S HAPPY DANCE

For my project, I propose to create an exhibition inspired by the world beneath the earth’s surface, where roots meet the soil. Most of us are completely unaware of the millions of organisms that work the soil. In fact, soil life accounts for a much larger living mass than that which exists above ground, just as roots can outweigh and outsize the visible part of the tree. I have always been fascinated by the science of soil, and it has been the subject of much of my latest work.

In my search for inspiration, I recently became aware of the work of Prof Suzanne Simard of UBC. Dr Simard is studying how microscopic fungi act as a communication interface between one set of roots and another, creating bridges between various tree species to share resources. The network works much like the neural networks of our own brain. Through her work, we are learning that trees in a forest do not compete, but in fact cooperate with each other and share resources. This gives a forest more resilience and stability against adversity like disease or climate change. In every forest ecosystem, there are certain Mother trees – older, larger specimens – that serve as anchors for a large grouping of younger trees around them. When Mother trees die, they slowly release their stored nutrients and resources to all the trees in the network. Click on the image below for a wonderful video of Prof Simard, talking about Mother Trees.

simard photoProfessor Suzanne Simard explaining her research: click on image to see short video

This research is a rich source of inspiration, both visually and conceptually. Also, it will be relevant to all who love trees and nature, and who care about the environment. I have been in touch with Dr Simard – she is eager to share more information and is excited about the exhibition. In fact, she invites me to come and see first-hand what she and her students are up to in the lab and in the field. Of course, I am saying YES!

So, here I am right at the beginning. Dr Simard sent me half a dozen papers and articles to read up on, and I’ve acquired a textbook for which she is a contributor. Happy to share this journey with you, along with all the digressions and distractions along the way.

OAC 2014

The value of working in Series

December 12th, 2012
Escarpment #13 2009 24x24"

Escarpment #13 2009 24×24″

“The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.”
Joseph Campbell

Way at the start of my art life, all my passions were directed at exploring techniques and trying out new materials. I wondered how any artist could deliberately limit herself to one particular subject for two consecutive pieces, let alone an entire series! The infinite possibilities were too exciting. How could I possibly choose one over another? What if I missed out on something even better? And truly, the textile industry marketing machine is built on distraction, with new materials, techniques and equipment introduced every day. Overwhelmed and scattered, I began to realize there were fewer and fewer satisfying and tangible results for my constant industry. It was time to rethink the value of limits.

For me, this realization preceded a beautiful turning point. Now, I rarely do one-offs. Nearly all my new work somehow, either formally or loosely, fits into some kind of series. I want to write here about the value of working in series, not from a curator’s or collector’s point of view (because this is well covered in many excellent articles already), but from my own experience as an artist. How does it work, with respect to my creative path?

Perhaps I am predisposed to working in repetitive mode. At our family cottage, my favourite activity is to walk the very same 45 minute trail from our property to a rocky shore on the opposite side of the point. I do this at least once a day, at different times and in all weathers and seasons. While walking, I might mull over whatever is foremost in my mind, or just watch for butterflies. Each step is a rhythmic motion, a heartbeat, that carries me from one thought to the next. Invariably, by the time I reach the end of the point and back, some insight reveals itself that would not have come otherwise. For me, this trail provides a consistent platform from which to frame and recalibrate my inner world. Over and over, on the very same trail, I never fail to find something new.

As in life, so with art. A subject chooses me, and so the trail is set. When I first moved to the Niagara Escarpment area eight years ago, I found myself observing how the layers of unyielding rock supported certain vegetation and trees. What a rich vein of imagery and ideas to draw on! And so my Escarpment series was born:

Escarpment #1  2008 23x32"

Escarpment #1 2008 23×32″

The first pieces I produced really primed the pump. I loved working on the rock imagery in collage and appliqué, and I loved the results. Fresh ideas began to suggest themselves. With each new step, my thoughts turned to the metaphoric value of these images, like Triumph over Adversity:

Triumph  2011  30x40"

Triumph 2011 30×40″

No single piece in a series can possibly tell the whole story, and why should it? In this piece, I can tell the story of Courage:

Courage  2010  24x24"

Courage 2010 24×24″

In this one, I can talk about time and memory:

Between Now and Then  2009  36x48"

Between Now and Then 2009 36×48″

Or I can simply have some fun with colour and materials:

Escarpment #16  2009  24x24"

Escarpment #16 2009 24×24″

The possibilities are endless, series within series, and all kinds of spinoffs. Each piece is a step, like a sentence in a paragraph. It leads to the next, and so on, until the thought is complete. Sometimes it takes only two or three pieces. Other times, as with my ongoing Hawthorn series, the conversation continues intermittently for years and years.

Like all good things in life, the Escarpment series led to another, my Fertile Ground series. And I trust that eventually, by keeping to my trail, new ideas for series will grow, either building on the ones before, or shooting off on other tangents entirely. Working in series is a rhythmic, organic process that resonates with the pulse of nature. I feel the music of the Universe within me, with every step.

Do you like working in series? How did you start, and what are you working on now?

Fissure #5 2011  24x24" - another tangent!

Fissure #5 2011 24×24″ – another tangent!

 

Small Works at Taylor’s Tea Room

December 2nd, 2012

On Friday morning, early!, my husband and I hung 14 of my small pieces on the lovely lavender walls of Taylor’s Tea Room in Dundas. The owner, Brayden Erlich subsequently emailed me with the following:

“Lorraine! I have to say thank you so much it’s just how I imagined! Amazing feedback all day long. And I love it!!
So pumped! Tomorrow will be great! The place looks fabulous!”

And it WAS great! The opening was slated for Saturday, Dec 1 from 2-4 pm. It was a busy day in Dundas, so the visitors were pleased to have a quiet place to stop over for complimentary tea and scones. And such enthusiasm! I am truly blessed.
If you are in the area, do drop by! Taylor’s Tea Room is at 11 King Street West in Dundas, ON  905 628-3768.

Some photos from the day:

Brayden Erlich and me

                                                   ….. and a beautiful spread for all to enjoy….

Origami

November 9th, 2012

Ucluelet, Vancouver Island. An overcast, occasionally rainy day. We find ourselves on an intermittently disrupted path leading to the Wild Pacific Trail along the west side of the Island. My husband and I are feeling disoriented and disappointed, having expected something “wilder” on that part of the walk (note: The Wild Pacific Trail itself was magnificent!). We skirt the edge of a hotel property and it’s clear that soon much of the land around it will be devoted to yet more development. It’s somewhat depressing, and we are thinking of getting back to the car.

Just ahead and walking toward us is an elderly Japanese man. As he reaches us, he briefly bows, presses something into my husband’s hand, then silently moves on. This is his gift:

Origami sun, only one inch in diameter!

 

As I examine this exquisite origami sun, I am filled with questions. I want to catch up to him and thank him, ask him why. But he is long gone, having disappeared around the next bend as if he was never there.

Whatever his intent, the effect on me is pure radiance. My moody day is suddenly more beautiful, the world more welcoming, my steps lighter. My mind is changed by this gracious gift. I’ve hung it on my office lamp and relive the moment every day. And he will never know. I believe this is the best part of the gift. He has shared his wisdom, how to be truly free.

Healing Herbs

June 17th, 2012

June, 2012. On my last weekend jaunt in Tobermory, I came across a very tempting jumble of books for sale at the local library. Nestled among the cookbooks, ancient hardcovers and fast-food novels I found the Rodale Herb Book, published in 1973. I am a collector of herb books. No matter how old the book, each offers a fresh view on cookery, medicals and dyes. I love nothing better than to sit back with a cup of tea and learn new stuff about herbs.

There are hundreds if not thousands of uses for herbs, but my all time favourite is tea-making. Every evening from spring through to fall, I’ve made a ritual of harvesting a bunch of herbs from my garden for fresh tea. This habit began years ago when I lived in London and had built up a great medicinal collection to experiment with. My poor sister who suffered from headaches and stomach problems was the frequent recipient of my brews. Eventually I picked up enough knowledge to help with minor ailments, and luckily didn’t kill anyone while doing it. I found the entire process of tea making from seed planting to drinking absolutely magical.

My favourite Scott Barnim mug filled with the combination of the day.

My herb collection is by no means comprehensive, but even with the few dozen I have, I can easily make a different tea each time. My technique? Around an hour or so after supper, I wander through the sections with a small knife, choosing an appropriate combination for the day. I collect a handful of 4-5 herbs, stems and all, or flowers with their centres. Lightly wash them in cold water. Put them in a little brown betty teapot, and pour freshly boiled water on top. Allow to steep for 5 minutes or so. Then strain into a mug (white mugs are best, so I can see the colour). All the drinks are very refreshing, even when they are hot. Sometimes I put the strained brew in the fridge for iced tea. People who are used to tea from dry leaves find that the same herbs taste very different when fresh. Once they’ve had fresh tea, it’s not easy to go back.

I do have some favourite combinations. Peppermint, bronze fennel, perilla and chamomile flowers make a great blend and it’s a beautiful clear jade colour. I like peppermint in all my teas. But the sky is the limit – recently I added lavender to the mix. Catmint is supposed to help with sleep, so when I’ve had a bout of insomnia, I will mix it with chamomile and spearmint. It tastes strong and bitter!!, but it works. Calendula flowers help with digestion. And recently I learned that the petals of calendula are edible and high in carotenoids including lutein – great for the eyes. I use them in salads all the time.

I believe that the benefit of fresh tea doesn’t come only from the drinking: all steps from planting to harvest are healing activities. I love knowing that the soil’s molecules absorbed by their roots will eventually become part of my body. Working my land, drinking water from our well, breathing oxygen purified from our trees, and even our septic system! make me feel that I participate in the cycles of nature.

If you would like to see my gardens and try out one of my teas, come and visit me during the Hamilton Open Garden Tour. My garden and studio will be open from June 30 to July 2, 2012 10-4 each day. There will be plenty of other gardens to see during that time period. I will post the link with map and info when it becomes available. I would love to see you!

My kitchen garden so far this year.

 

 

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