Thank you

Thanks to everyone who made it out to the opening reception for my show “Cloud Girl Accidentally Eats Rainbow” and a big thank you to the entire Sawtooth School for Visual Art team for believing in me and for all the work they put into helping bring this exhibit to life. I’m grateful.
I was delighted to see people excited to take a paper crane and children using them as shadow puppets with my video projections – and gleefully playing on my fabric boulders. The exhibit features 2 large series of works on paper, which I displayed unframed for the first time. That kind of vulnerability was appropriate for the show, and I was happy to be able to share less precious – and touchable! – work in contrast to these.
What’s next? I’m not sure yet, but we have such a rich history of textiles in NC…. I’m dreaming of more and bigger reclaimed fabric boulders – again made in community – and shown in an unused textile factory… If anyone knows of such a place, please let me know!
 

Making Boulders!

The installation of my exhibit Cloud Girl Accidentally Eats Rainbow continued this week at the Sawtooth School of Visual Art. We invited community volunteers to help me make boulders, large bundles of textiles that are compressed and tied together. I started making these a couple of years ago while experimenting with reclaimed fabric at Penland School of Craft, and wanted to include more and bigger ones in this show. They sit heavy on the floor in my sculpture work Boulder field.

I’m particularly pleased with this boulder-making experience because last summer I decided I wanted to make more work collaboratively and with community. The two events that the Sawtooth School held brought in people who were genuinely curious about the process, and who were happy to put in the physical effort needed to tightly bundle all of these materials. It was a real pleasure to make these as a group.

Thank you to all the volunteers who came out to help and to our community partners who generously donated the large quantities of scrap fabric needed to make these!

The opening reception is April 17th 6-8pm in the Davis Gallery at the Sawtooth School for Visual Art.

Jessica Singerman and volunteer Ann Rowe-Davis working on a textile boulder
Volunteers Russ Dubois, Rebecca Silberman, and Betsy Messick making textile boulders
Artist Jessica Singerman and volunteers Katie Barber, Toni Bryja, and Nicole Cochran working together to make a textile boulder
Tensioning and tying down all the fabric
All hands on deck!
Artist Jessica Singerman and volunteers Katie Barber, Toni Bryja, and Nicole Cochran working together to make a textile boulder
Jessica Singerman and her niece Alex Singerman Driggs celebrating Alex’s boulder-making prowess

Making Clouds and Suspending Hankies

The installation of my upcoming exhibit Cloud Girl Accidentally Eats Rainbow started this week. The first two days were focused on installing Children of the Clouds, the suspended textile work featuring 200 individually dyed handkerchiefs. You can read more about this project here and here.

If you’re interested in behind the scenes, here are some photos documenting the process. I roughly calculated that I went up and down that ladder 500 times in the 8 hours of work to tie and hang all of the hankies. Thankfully I had two assistants doing all of the thread measuring and tying knots to tiny safety pins.

Installation continues this week and next for the rest of the work in the show.

The opening reception is April 17th 6-8pm in the Davis Gallery at the Sawtooth School for Visual Art.

up in the clouds
almost done!
Artist Assistants Finley Billstone and Lex Piper
200 hankies ready to be installed
200 hankies waiting for their place
my concept drawing for the installation – the plan for the whole exhibit is on the right

 

 

 

Can the training be the practice?

Since I was in graduate school over 20 years ago and discovered cycling, I’ve tried to reconcile my training as an athlete and my practice as an artist. I think that the energy required to do both comes from a similar place and I’ve tried to figure out how to make riding or running or walking my actual artistic practice with varying degrees of success. There is precedent for this – the English artist Hamish Fulton makes the act of walking the central part of his artistic practice. Through his work he elegantly addresses familiarizing oneself with nature as a way to respect it, and that in turn as a way to address climate change. The sort of artifacts that he makes post walk are also tied to the land he travels through their size, form, and materials, but these things he makes are secondary to the walks, more of a way to share the walks with others in a gallery setting.

I always come back to wanting to make things. Making things is how I understand the world around me and how I express my thoughts in the way that is most intuitive, not in a linear way, but in a way that is more meandering. And while I know that riding bikes, running, and walking inspire my work, making those the actual work, hasn’t felt like enough. It hasn’t satisfied the urge to make things.

When Hurricane Helene hit western North Carolina a few weeks ago, less than 100 miles away, and people’s entire lives were swept away and the actual topography of the mountains violently changed in a moment, everything suddenly seemed very ephemeral. Some of the most destructive aspects of climate change were here.

Climate change is something I’ve wanted to address more directly in my work for a long time, but I think all of the attempts I’ve made would be upsetting for a casual gallery goer, and so they’ve never seen the light of day. It’s important to me that my work at the very least not be depressing for those who experience it, so none of my attempts at addressing the ecological crisis have ever hit the mark for me.

The project I’ve been working on using natural dyes to color handkerchiefs for next spring, coupled with another project I’m expanding on (the boulders from my spring exhibit at The Art Gallery at Congdon Yards, which you can see here at approximately 1 minute into this video tour of the show), together start to address nature and ecological issues through textiles. The hankies suspended in the air are each dyed using natural plant and insect derived dyes that have been used throughout history. The boulders on the ground are made by compressing and tightly binding cast off textiles commercially dyed. As you probably know, the fashion industry pollutes through its processing and dyeing of fabrics and uses astonishing amounts of water. It also creates literal mountains of garbage. These projects will be coupled with other sculpture, video, and sound, that I hope can effectively address climate change while keeping true to my values as an artist. I still believe in beauty and dreaming and poetry.

Last weekend on a forest walk with my husband and our son, I noticed all of the acorns on our path. Acorns, along with oak leaves and bark, can be used to make dyes varying in color from yellow, tan, green, brown, and even violet. The three of us collected pieces from the ground, and later that day, my son and I prepared them for dyeing fabric. He used a hammer to smash the acorns as I whittled away the bark, and we put each collection in a jar with water. They’ll soak for a week or so before I can extract the dye. As for the leaves, I poured boiling water on them, left them to sit overnight in a pot, and simmered them in the morning with hankies. After a day, the hankies were various shades of creamy yellow and orange.

While I still am not clear on how to make a walk my artistic practice (maybe I simply need to declare that it is?), the act of walking and collecting plant matter to generate color for my work is deeply satisfying. I’m enjoying all the research on which plants to use for lasting color, how to extract the color, and tangentially all the social history around textiles and natural dyes, which ties into culture and economy.

I’m curious to see where these projects take me.

My son holding some of the acorns we collected on our forest walk (also to be used for their color)
Holding oak leaves and branches from which I’ll extract color

Adventures with Hankies and Natural Dyes

I’ve been working on a project for which I’m collecting handkerchiefs, dyeing them as many different colors as I can, and suspending them from the ceiling for an exhibit that opens next year. I have more than 200 handkerchiefs, many vintage, some donated, some new. Last month, I spent several days preparing the hankies to be dyed. Because they are cotton and I’m using natural dyes, there is a process I follow to make sure they accept the dye and stay that color as long as possible. The project will be exhibited for 4 months and lit by gallery lights, so they need to be lightfast. This process entails washing the fabric, scouring it (to remove any waxes and oils that might be used in the manufacturing process), then mordanting it with gallnut, followed by aluminum acetate, then a quick dip in calcium carbonate. The mordanting process allows the fabric to accept the dye, make the color as intense as possible, and hold onto it, otherwise it would just wash out.

The exhibit next year will be in the Sawtooth School of Art‘s Davis gallery. With them, I’m organizing community events during which we’ll make some of the work for the show. The first of these events was a workshop led by my friend and fellow artist Nicole Asselin last weekend. With the students, we dyed some handkerchiefs using madder, weld, and pomegranate, all natural dyes that have been used for millennia. Students also had a chance to play with the dyes on bandanas they could take home.

Here Nicole presents some key concepts with a bunch of undyed hankies and some common dyestuff in the foreground.

A student keeps an eye on the madder root dye pot.

Dyed hankies: madder on the left, pomegranate center, and weld on the right. Some of the colors have also been modified using an iron bath and citric acid.

Hankies from last night’s work in the dye studio: indigo on the right and weld overdyed with indigo on the left. You can see here the tiny labels that I’m attaching to each hanky with the date and dyestuff used on each one.

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