It is finally here! The Hillside Artisan Summer Market is happening this weekend. I have been prepping for over the past month or so (okay, maybe a bit longer) and finally have a neat stack of boxes ready to go. =) I will be bringing a pod of wire whale species, some mobiles, bookmarks, drawings, baby milestone cards, greeting cards and buttons (including some brand new button and card designs!).
The market is happening this Saturday and Sunday, August 7 & 8, from 10am to 4pm. There will be live music and more than 80 local vendors! It takes place in the Hillside Mall parking lot by the entrance near Marshalls (on the corner of North Dairy and Shelbourne).
Below is a little sketch of the location, showing where my tent will be located. =) Hope you will pop by!
Here is a list of the vendors (click on the links to view their Instagram pages):
Over the past six months I have been working towards a project that, at times, has felt a little like hiking in flipflops. Last fall I submitted an application to the Victoria Print Society‘s PRINT gallery call for proposals. My project idea involved creating prints of British Columbia’s north coast using embossing and linocut.
Looking back now, this seems like a long time ago—the start of a journey. The past few months have been a flurry of printmaking tutorial videos, linoleum shaving bits (on the table, in my pockets, in my purse… I am sure I will be finding them for months to come), conceptual location research, and developing relationships with some incredible, local printmakers.
I made more mistakes than I care to admit here. Having to do and re-do until getting things right. These are the things that help me learn and grow. These are the points I look back on now with a smile when I think about the process. I thought I would share some of my process here with you as printmaking has been a learning curve for me and something I have enjoyed stepping into.
For images of my print, ‘Aggregation: Inside Passage‘, and to read about my concepts behind the work, please click here.
What is the PRINT gallery? The PRINT gallery is a printed “venue” for print artists to show and talk about their work, to help make printmaking more accessible to the public. It is printed in a brochure format that unfolds to reveal a full-page image inside of the feature print created by the artist. 50 brochure are left blank on the inside for the artist to then create a hand-pulled, limited edition print series. The digitally printed copies are free and the hand-pulled originals are available for $15 each (or $10 if you are a PRINT member).
If you are interested in ordering either type of PRINT gallery, please click here.
My Printing Process
My print journey started when my boss gave me some pieces of orange linoleum from an old apartment building.
I started by researching the design I wanted to carve. Using a variety of map and chart sources from the internet I was able to isolate the area of coastline I wanted to portray. The location I chose is where the Inside Passage intersects with the entrance waters heading towards Kitimat.
I used graphite transfer paper to lay out my design. It didn’t take long before I realized that the image will be reversed when it is printed. I then had to mirror my design format before drawing it onto the lino so the final print would be the correct orientation.
Once the design was transferred, I re-drew the lines in permanent marker so they wouldn’t rub off while I was carving. Then I made decisions about where I would cut and what areas I would leave. I decided to cut away the water areas and leave the land forms. When printing in this way, the areas that are carved away will be left the colour of the paper, while the areas that are left will hold the ink and transfer the colour onto the page.
I cut my lino block to size with a utility knife so it would be easier to handle and then started carving. It was tough work and I quickly realized how important it is to sharpen the carving tools often. This process is labour intensive and it took me a few months to complete (among my other projects). I started by edging around the land forms and then carving out, into the water areas. Once everything was roughly carved, I then went back again, and again, to continue smoothing out ridges and bumps. The final steps were to complete the small boarder around the edge, cut away the excess lino around the sides and carve away the delicate river systems that lead to the ocean. Carving is hard work and it is important to take breaks for your hands and wrists. When the lino is warmer it becomes softer and easier to cut.
Once the plate was complete, I created a test print to check and see if any areas required more carving. After making the final adjustments to the carved lino plate, I was ready to move into the printing studio. I am incredibly grateful to Alison, Desiree and Tara, the founders of PRINT, for their support, for getting me get set up in the studio, for assisting me with the printing process and for sharing their knowledge and printing passion with me.
Before trying printmaking myself, I used to think it must be a pretty straight forward process. After all, now that my plate is made the hard part must be done. Not quite. Even when using a press, it is still a human process. I was surprised how much sensitivity one must have towards the press. The pressure is adjusted by manually tightening both sides of the roller independently. Being able to “feel” the tension, make sure the pressure is even and that it is not too tight or too light.
Then there is the inking of the plate. Again, sounds fairly straight forward, but I quickly learned this means more than just coating the block with ink. When you load the roller, one must lift the roller between going back and forth to allow the roller to spin and get even coverage. To load it properly there is a particular sound you want the ink to make as the roller passes over it and a special texture/gloss that you are looking for. Again, it comes back to getting the “feel” for it. This took me a few days before getting comfortable recognizing the signs.
At this point I thought it would be time to start pulling prints. The time I have eagerly been waiting for and have spent months preparing for! Well, not exactly. Printers often pull 5-10 or more test prints before pulling an actual print. Every time carefully loading and reloading the roller, covering the plate this direction, then that. Moving the plate to the press, delicately laying down the paper on top, then covering it with soft wool blankets, and pulling it through the press. All the while trying to keep everything clean and tidy. The reason why it is important to make test prints first is that the ink builds a layer on the plate in a more even way each time it is pulled. The, when you are ready to make “real” prints, you will know the ink coverage is good.
I am very grateful for Tara’s offering to assist me when it was time to create the prints. We spent 12 hours at the studio together inking and pulling prints (and laughing, sharing stories, and listening to pod casts). I realized through this experience that this is something unique and special to printmaking—it often becomes a communal activity. People gather around the press, excited to see the print lift off the plate, brainstorming together and tackling printing issues that come up (and they do come up, trust me). There is a team spirit to printmaking. It is a quieter spirit now, only two people in the studio at a time and masked (of course), but that communal energy is there!
After the prints dried, we went back to the studio to layer the print with embossing. This type of embossing is called blind embossing, because it does not use ink. The paper is ran through the press overtop of a prepared relief plate. You can see the embossing lines in one of the final prints in the image on the left. The embossing is within the white areas, mimicking the undulating submarine contours of the ocean floor. The result leaves subtle meandering lines pressed into the fibres of the paper. This took another studio day to add to the finished prints.
After we were done, I carefully gathered the final 50 prints together to sign, title, number and date.
Some prints did not make the cut. Some I inked and pulled through the wrong direction, some I forgot to ink an island or two, some I embossed the wrong direction, and one I even printed on the wrong side of the paper (see image below). The end product of this project is a limited edition of 50 linocut and blind embossed prints, which I am proud to have created. Learning a new skill can be hard (and even frustrating), but the payback is the satisfaction of having completed it. I have been thinking about this project since last September (when I applied for the PRINT gallery). One of my favourite parts about being an artist is to create a physical “thing” from a picture in my mind, and when I look over at my neatly stacked pile of prints I can’t help but smile.
I should warn you that I have been feeling a bit thoughtful lately. If you would like to skip over to see images from the exhibition, please clickhere to be redirected to the DRIFT page. You are also welcome to keep reading (I will put another link at the bottom of this page).
Preparing for an exhibition can feel a bit like a whirlwind or a marathon. It is a to-do-list count down to the opening: making sure everything is ready, having a plan about how to hang the work (sometimes I even build a tiny scale model with mini artworks to see how it could look), making a list of things to bring (painters tape, picture hooks, a hammer, level, pencil, eraser, labels, etc. etc.), designing a poster, walking around town asking shops if I can put the poster in their windows or community bulletin boards, ordering lettering for the front window, and the list goes on. I find myself filling with eager anticipation, and admittedly a bit of anxiety, as the countdown draws near.
If you google “how to make an art show” you will find a variety of approaches and lists for how to go about putting together an exhibition. Often these lists include helpful points, such as “make and install artworks”, or “hold an opening” and use words like “easy”, “successful” or “simple”. But something that these websites don’t mention is what happens afterword the exhibition is set up. They are missing the main point.
There is a huge variety of venues that hold exhibitions, but the one type I would like to highlight are “artist run centres” (arc). If you are not familiar with this term, it refers to welcoming and engaging, art focused, community spaces that are operated collectively by a group of working artists. These spaces are often multi-purpose, from exhibitions, art classes, artist studios and music venues. To exhibit at an arc means an opportunity to be in partnership with these artists, to become more personally involved in the operation of the exhibition, to spend meaningful time with the work and with people coming to see the exhibition.
I wasn’t sure howthis exhibition would unfold with this new world of restrictions. There are no more art openings. People in the gallery space were limited to 3 (myself included). Masked faces, hats and foggy glasses make it harder to immediately recognize people. Going out into the world takes more effort than it used to.
If you have known me for a while, you may have head me talk about how important you are to the activation of art. Much of an artist’s time can be spent on their own, in their studio, with their work. Artworks are an accumulation of decision making, time, thought, trying one thing and then trying another, processing, contemplation. Sometimes an artist may have created numerous other works before eventually making it to the final one. The one that represents the accumulative process. As long as that work is in the studio, behind closed doors, or carefully wrapped and stored away it is not alive. I believe that it is not activated until it is viewed by other people. When you go to a gallery and you are viewing an artwork, questioning what it is you see, what could the artist be trying to say, is there a meaning, does it make you feel uncomfortable, do you connect to it? Now there is an engagement. Now the art is activated.I am incredibly grateful to all of you who were able to come and see DRIFT. You activated my art.
I know that these are strange times, which made it even more meaningful to see you at the exhibition. Thank you for the effort to coming to see the show. Also, thank you to those of you who were not able to come but followed the exhibition online. Your support is very much valued and appreciated! When I mentioned that these “how to make an art show” lists are missing the main point. That main point is you! I am so glad to have this opportunity to show my work at an artist run centre because it meant I was able to see you, hear what you saw in the art and enjoy our conversations. Many of you I have known for years, and some of you I had the pleasure of meeting you for the first time. Thank you so much for coming!
After a few busy months preparing, sitting in the gallery over these past few weekends has been a welcome change of routine and, between people viewing the exhibition, an opportunity to quietly reflect and slow down. If you would like to view the exhibition on your computer or phone you can click here for photos, statements and a video of the work.
I would like to say a most heartfelt thank you toarc.hive artist run centre for hosting my exhibition, for being supportive, welcoming, helpful, encouraging and professional. It was a wonderful experience (and if you are an artist, I absolutely recommend sending your exhibition proposal to arc.hive)!
I would also like to say a special thank you to Meghan Krauss, a local photographer, visual artist and good friend, for documenting me in DRIFT (the images above). I also recommend checking out Meghan’s amazing art practice on her website here.
In DRIFT, I explore the continual movements of the ocean: from the glassy barrier of the surface to the soup-like complexities of the seawater below. The show will contain new works in and new mediums (for me), experimental paintings made with winter weather in Iceland and a series of conceptual seascapes that explore the flux of the ocean’s surface. These works will be exhibited along with other pieces that probe our relationship to the sea.
When: Open Saturdays and Sundays 12-4pm from March 6-21, 2021
Where: arc-hive artist run centre located at 2516 Bridge Street, Victoria, BC, Canada
Covid protocols are in place. Please wear a mask. Three person limit in the gallery space. The washroom is not available to the public at this time.
Please send me a message if you have any questions about the show or to arrange a private viewing if the opening times do not work for you.
A year ago, before life had changed, I was invited to participate in an exhibition about humpback whales in Whitehorse, Yukon (Canada). I had the opportunity to meet one of the organizers, visual artist Joyce Majiski, and tour her studio residency on Salt Spring Island. The studio was full of drawings and paintings of whale bones, source/reference material, tools, a pile of colourful and worn Styrofoam and large vertebrae delicately placed here and there. In the centre of the room, between a couple pillars, were ropes suspending two sequences of orange and blue vertebrae. It was a creative space turned research lab. I was in heaven.
I have been working towards this exhibition over the past year and in October I procured a large cardboard box and packed my pieces off to the Yukon Arts Centre in snowy Whitehorse (Yukon, Canada).
Joyce’s sea-salvaged Styrofoam whale skeleton is now complete and hanging in the Yukon Arts Centre. Projection and sound are also part of her installation. She has put together an informative video about her process of creating the skeleton (click here for the video) and also created a video of the installation in place at the Yukon Arts Centre complete with the added lights and sounds (click here for the video). This installation, called Song of the Whale, opened in cooperation with a second exhibition, called Waters of the Humpback, which I was invited to participate along side two other artists, Irene Carlos (Guatemala) and Christina Luna (Mexico).
I created three works for this exhibition: an installation showing the bubble net feeding formation sometimes used by humpbacks, rotating drawings about the buoyancy of whales in water and a collection of 400+ tiny drawings of seaweed that change over time. If you would like to learn about the pieces I created for this exhibition, please click here to view the exhibition page on my website. You will find images and statements for the work on that page.
I am honoured to be participating in this exhibition which is very close to my practice and my work, and I am excited to be included in a free, on-line Artist Talk that the Yukon Arts Centre is organizing. It is happening this Sunday (February 7th, 2021) at 11:30 MST (if you are in British Columbia, it will be happening at 10:30am). Joyce and I will be talking about our work and Michael deRoos and Michiru Main will be talking about working with whale skeletons and marine biology (their family business, Cetacea, is based on Salt Spring Island).
Click here for more info about the Artist Talk and to register for the Zoom link.
“In life, the visible surface of the Sperm Whale is not the least among the many marvels he presents. Almost invariably it is all over obliquely crossed and re-crossed with numberless straight marks in thick array, something like those in the finest Italian line engravings. But these marks do not seem to be impressed upon the isinglass substance above mentioned, but seem to be seen through it, as if they were engraved upon the body itself. Nor is this all. In some instances, to the quick, observant eye, those linear marks, as in a veritable engraving, but afford the ground for far other delineations. These are hieroglyphical; that is, if you call those mysterious cyphers on the walls of pyramids hieroglyphics, then that is the proper word to use in the present connexion.” Herman Melville, Moby Dick
These whales of legend and story mainly stay off shore, in pelagic waters. They are deep sea dwellers as their prey of choice is often squid. A few years ago, in February 2018, a sperm whale spent some time in the Johnston Strait, in the waters between Vancouver Island and the mainland. This was a rare event. The last time a sperm whale was recorded in this area was in 1984 (here is a link to an article from CBC about this event). This being said, I have only met a few people that have seen sperm whales in person.
Today I have the great pleasure of introducing you to my cousin, Christine Konrad. Christine is a marine biologist and is one of those few people I know that have seen these legendary whales. Not only has she seen them, but she has spent time researching their family trees, their habits and the “who’s who” of the sperm whale world. Christine is from Vancouver, British Columbia, and studied at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. She has since moved back to our beautiful BC coast and is studying some black and white cetaceans a little more familiar to most of us.
I am sure you are much more eager to hear Christine tell you about what she does than me. So, without any further delay, I hope you will enjoy reading this Q&A section that Christine and I put together especially for you.
Q&A with Marine Biologist: Christine Konrad
Natasha: Thank you so much for agreeing to let me bombard you with questions about your life as a whale researcher! I am looking forward to hearing more about your experiences, about what it is like to be a marine biologist and about the day-to-day tasks that are part of participating in the contemporary scientific field of cetology (the study of whales, dolphins and porpoises). To start off, would you mind telling us a little about your background?
Christine: We were lucky to grow up with grandparents who had a cottage by the sea, on the Sunshine Coast. I have no doubt that the many childhood days I spent exploring tidal pools and playing in the waves were a big part of what made me fall in love with the ocean. Yet, in the early years of my BSc degree at Simon Fraser University, I questioned my path, as I enjoyed my electives in fine arts, acting, literature and astronomy more than the chemistry and physics courses that my biology degree required. What sealed the deal for me was a field course, on the diversity of seaweeds, at the Bamfield Marine Science Centre; I spent three weeks of my summer doing my very own mini research project on kelp, surrounded by fellow keen budding biologists and supportive mentors. That experience convinced me that marine research was where I wanted to be. It was during my MSc at Dalhousie University in Halifax that I first studied cetaceans. Through a combination of encouragement from family, giving my all in my BSc, and really lucky timing, I ended up in Dr. Hal Whitehead’s research group, studying the family lives of sperm whales. It was a dream come true.
Natasha: Okay, so I have to ask. Have you read Moby Dick?
Christine: Funny you should ask… When I was accepted into the MSc program at Dalhousie and on my way to start studying sperm whales, my sister gave me a copy of Moby Dick. I brought it with me on my first excursion to study the whales, and I did start reading it on that trip. I felt that copy of Moby Dick was pretty special – it’s not every copy that gets to actually sail in the presence of sperm whales! But alas, in a sleep deprived state on the way home (after an unplanned overnight delay in Winnipeg…), I forgot the book in the airplane seat pocket. So, I never did finish reading it. I have seen a few Moby quotes at the start of thesis papers on sperm whales though, so clearly some other researchers have indeed read it!
Natasha: Can you tell us about your involvement with the Dominica Sperm Whale Project?
Christine: Gladly! The Dominica Sperm Whale Project is a unique long-term study of families of sperm whales in the Eastern Caribbean, run by Dr. Shane Gero. Thanks to Shane’s dedicated study of these whales over the years, they are now the best-known families of sperm whales anywhere. My primary role was to analyze genetic information (extracted from bits of skin collected from the whales), to answer questions about the family lives of these whales, like “do sisters babysit for each other more often than friends do?” I had the great pleasure of spending two field seasons (each about two months long) in the waters of Dominica, getting to know these whales (and collecting more skin for my work). The first season, we lived aboard Hal’s 40-foot research sailboat, Balaena. The next year we lived in a little house up the hill in the jungle, and we went out on daytrips in a chartered vessel crewed by Dominican skippers. In both cases, there would be about five or six of us onboard. With tight quarters and long days spent together, my fellow crew would quickly become my family for the season.
Natasha: How was living on a sailboat?
Christine: I’ll admit it does take me a few days to find my sea legs, but usually any seasickness I feel can be overcome with some Gravol and a day or two of feeling queasy. Still, I am always glad when someone else volunteers for dinner duty for the first couple of nights, because spending two hours below deck, cooking over a hot and swaying stove certainly doesn’t help.
One of my favourite things about life aboard Balaena, other than spending my days with the whales, was spending my nights under the stars. I don’t exactly love being woken up at 2am for my turn at night watch… but there’s something really wonderful about being the only soul awake for miles, sailing along in search of whales, with the Milky Way for company.
Natasha: That sounds amazing! Did you need to learn any special skills while on the job?
Christine: You know what skill I never would have expected to need as a marine biologist? Winking. Now, I was one of those kids who always hated being picked as “it” when playing “wink murder”, since I never did master the knack of a good clean wink, without having to scrunch up my whole face. It turns out that aiming a crossbow (which we use to collect small skin samples from sperm whales, for genetic analyses) is much easier with one eye closed. In my case, I used an eyepatch and felt like a real pirate in the Caribbean. On a more serious note, yes, there are many new skills that I gained over the course of my studies, from spotting a distant whale blow on a windy day and photographing fast moving whales through a telescopic camera lens, to the equally important though seemingly less exciting skills of writing code in statistical software to run analyses and pipetting bits of microscopic DNA in the lab.
Natasha: Can you share a little more about life as a researcher?
Christine: I’ve already talked a bit about what field work is like, and you may have gathered that it is one of the things that I really love about what I do. But life as a researcher in marine biology typically involves more time in an office or a lab than at sea. So, I guess it’s lucky for me that I also enjoy spending my time unravelling the story told by the data I collect. When I get to the exciting part in my analyses where I am finally starting to piece together answers to our questions, you just might find me up late on my computer saying, “I’ll just make one more map, then I’ll go to sleep.” Of course, not everything about the job is fun – I can’t say I like balancing budgets or filling in paperwork – but a fresh sea breeze has a great knack for clearing the mind of any administrative woes.
Natasha: What did you do after your Masters?
Christine: After my Masters, I started working for Fisheries and Oceans Canada, first in Nova Scotia, and then, about a year later, here in Vancouver.
In Nova Scotia, one aspect of my work was going out on aerial surveys, in small airplanes, flying low over the water, looking for whales, particularly the highly endangered North Atlantic right whale. It was a very different experience from the boat-based work I had done before but rewarding in its own way. I also spent many of my days at a computer, working on mapping the habitat of east coast whale and dolphin species, as well as mapping vessel traffic, which is a significant source of risk and disturbance to whales.
The focus of the team I am a part of now is on southern resident killer whales (as well as their neighbours to the north – the northern resident killer whales). The research we are doing is motivated by the very tangible goal of providing the best possible science advice to help this population recover.
Natasha: In your experience, have you noticed a difference in the behavior between sperm whales and orca?
Christine: Sperm whales and killer whales actually have a lot in common, especially when it comes to their social lives. Both species live in tight-knit family groups and pass on cultural knowledge, such as dialects that are distinct enough that, in some well-studied populations, researchers can distinguish between groups based on sound alone. Despite this similarity, I still had a steep learning curve ahead of me when I transitioned from studying the behaviour of one to the other. It took practice and guidance from more experience killer whale researchers to learn to see the sometimes subtle physical cues in the whales’ behaviour that indicate whether they are resting or hunting or just playing around, or some combination of the above! On the bright side, killer whales do spend a lot more time at the surface than sperm whales (who typically dive for the better part of an hour when hunting squid in the depths), so that does give us a bit more opportunity to observe them!
Natasha: The Southern Resident Killer Whales have been on the news a lot over the past few years. Can you share with us about some of the struggles within the populations? Is there anything that I/we can do to help?
Christine: It’s certainly not an easy time to be a southern resident killer whale right now. Some struggles they face include: finding enough to eat, contaminants in their food and environment, and being disturbed by boats and the underwater noise that boats make. Killer whales use sound (echolocation, which is like a natural version of the sonar system of a submarine) to hunt for food. So, underwater noise can make it even harder to find fish that are already scarce.
These threats don’t just affect this population of whales, or this species, but they are important issues for many species. Among the sperm whale families that I studied in the Caribbean, there is a mother whale, named Pinchy. She is one of the more easily recognized individuals in the population. The reason? She was hit by a ship several years ago, and though she survived, she still bears a noticeable scar. The threats posed by ships, by overfishing, and by contaminants are global.
But many small steps can still play a part in solving big issues. One action that comes to my mind that anyone can take is to be a conscious consumer. If you eat seafood, make sure it is sustainably harvested (there are online resources, such as this sustainable seafood guide that can help you be well informed). If you want to go whale watching, do your research and only go with a company that has a good reputation for following the distance regulations that are in place to keep the whales safe and undisturbed, rather than a company that makes promises of getting you up close and personal. If making a purchase, consider if you really need that item, if it needs to be new, where it was sourced from. The vast majority of goods on our planet are moved around on ships; the more we reuse items, the more we purchase locally made goods, the less we contribute to the pressure that ships transporting goods place on the ocean’s creatures. To multiply your impact even more, if there’s an issue you care about, make sure that the decisionmakers who represent you know that it’s important. Perhaps that means signing a petition or writing a letter to your local member of parliament.
Natasha: Obviously cetaceans and our coastal ecosystems are important to you, but what types of things do you enjoy doing when you aren’t in the lab or on the field?
Christine: As a high school student, if I had to give an answer of what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say I wanted to live by the ocean, research the animals that live in it, and make nature-inspired paintings in my spare time. That balance of science and art was, and still is, my ideal. So, while, as my career progresses, I’ve found myself focused more on science, without as much free time spared for art, I do try to find artistic outlets when I can. For example, during my time living in Halifax, I found a wonderful and creative community at Halifax Circus, where I could find artistic expression through circus performance.
I think art provides a great opportunity to communicate; whether it shares a feeling, an idea, or a beautiful moment in time, art can help us see things in new ways. Also, for many of us, we may first be captivated by science when it is presented to us through art. This includes myself; one of the ways I fell in love with nature as a child was through watching nature documentary films (on VHS tapes on rainy days at our grandparents’ cottage) and flipping through the beautiful illustrations in field guides to the local wildlife.
Natasha: Thank you so much for taking time to share with us and for sharing about your passion for whales and your career as a marine biologist. I am excited to see where your path continues to take you!
I consider myself lucky to have family that share a mutual interest in nature, the ocean and the amazing creatures that live there. I am constantly learning from Christine. Maybe you learned something new from reading the above, I know that I did! If you would like to learn more about Christine’s sperm whale research, I highly recommend reading this paper she published: Kinship influences sperm whale social organization within, but generally not among, social units. I hope you enjoyed reading our Q&A, Christine and I had fun putting it together for you.
The image on the right from my Fieldwork oil painting series. This painting was inspired by photographs of sperm whales’ backs taken by Christine off the coast of Dominica.
All images were provided with permission from Christine Konrad. Photo credit Christine Konrad unless otherwise stated.
A couple days ago the BIBLIO NORDICA exhibition opened at the Vyhod Media Centre in Petrozavodsk, Russia. I feel honoured and humbled to have my work in this show alongside a group of amazing artists from around the Northern Hemisphere.
Early this year I was asked to be part of this exhibition, at the same place where I did an artist residency in 2018. The organizers have been planning this exhibition for many years and finally it was coming to fruition. The concept of the show was “book of the north”. At first, I was surprised to be included in an exhibition about the north as I live in one of the most southerly places of Canada, but of course on a grander scale I do live in the north, very much so in fact. The artists were encouraged to creatively think about these two concepts, “book” and “north”, and approach them from whichever angle we would prefer.
In February I began working on my art piece. I decided that my book should be about my connection to Russia and so I decided to do a little digging in my family history. Thinking about the locations that my ancestors lived in relation to the “north” I realized they have almost circumnavigated the globe between the 60th and 50th parallels.
I am grateful to have a rich collection of historical information to draw from when it comes to family history. I was able to borrow family history books from my parents and stacks of old photographs. The photos have become intermingled, combining a hundred years of history together in one box. A collection of information about people that are connected to me, but grow blurry and disant as they reach further back in history. The photographs and images from these ancestry books were my source material for this project.
I wanted to share my piece with you now that the show has opened as a way of participating and connecting with this exhibition half way across the world. I created a page on my website (click here to view) with my artist statement and images of this artwork, titled Terrēnus Paterna.
A special thank you to artist Natalia Egorova for the above images
These past few months have been a time of reflection, introspection and thoughtfulness. Of course there have been many other things going through my head too: aprehention of the unknown, feelings of anxiety and loss. It has been a stange experience. One that everyone is going through differentlly. A time that has been isolating and yet somehow bringing togetherness. This picture is of my home studio (i.e. the kitchen table) this morning. Listening to The Jealous Curator podcast, which I highly recomend, and going through a giant stack of photos, books and alblums from my family history (thank you, mom and dad!).
Earlier this year I was invited to partisipate in an exhibition in Russia. I have been working on my piece for this exhibition since the beginning of March. It is a break from my usual focus of interest (whales, of course) and is by far the most personal art project I have worked on yet. I feel this time period in contemportary history has influenced my project. An intensity of reflectiveness in my day-to-day life. Sorting through an old suitcase of musty-smelling black and white photographs of family members is like holding the past in my hands. Photos that were taken over a hundred years ago of people I don’t know, but I know they are important to my family history. Searching faces for resemblances. Trying to discover something about these people that can no longer tell their story. Seeking to find connection. The pictures are mixed together. Some from Russia, some from the Canadian prairies. Sometimes the backs have writing. I assume the writer is explaining who the people were or where it was taken. A jumble of faded handwriting. Sometimes in English, sometimes in Low German and sometimes in Russian. I find it interesting how the black and white evens out the differences of time and place, making it difficult to tell apart. I can’t help my inner dialogue as I look at these faces. This couple was my great great great grandparents… I wonder what they were thinking when this photo was taken? Was this a special occasion? Was it their first time being photographed? I wonder what they would think if they knew that many years later their photo would make it’s way from person to person into my hands and that I would be carefully and critically observing and then painting them? What would they think of me? And so on. What difficult lives these people lead. Pioneering and farming. Fleeing as refugees. Living through wars. Loosing children. It is hard painting protraits knowing their future and that sometimes they passed away not long after the photo was taken. My family history (and many other’s too) is rich with sacrifice and love and sorrow and victory.
My Grandma Clara
I have been enjoying this project (although it has also been emtotionally tiring at points). Art is a great way to process. Not only processing the photos, but also the time period I am living through now. A time of calmness and reflection. As some of you may also know, my grandmother passed away at the end of March. She was my last living grandparent. 99.5 years old. My parents have been taking care of her as she lived with them in their home for 8 years. Over these years, and especially over the past year as I was able to help with her care, I have developed a deep relationship with her and it has been difficult to let go. Sorting through misculanious stack of black and white photos I realize that she was also my connection to these faces I don’t know. I need to create something tangible out of the efermality of lost memories.
To be honest, I have felt a little burnt out this week. But really, it has been a long four months. Sometimes you just need to take a break. Today I desided that before I get too involved in what I “need to do today” I would take a moment to write down my thoughts, take some pitures and share them here with you. It is a beautiful journey to learn about the past and I am so thankful to have access to these pictures and family history books. These past few months have been strange and I hope you are doing okay too. Maybe it is time to stop, take a little break and do some reflecting. I would love to hear about how you have been filling your time and dealing with the past few months.
SUPERPOD installation at the Ministry of Casual Living Window Gallery
Detail of SUPERPOD installation
This month I had the pleasure to exhibit my SUPERPOD installation at the Ministry of Casual Living Window Gallery in downtown Victoria. What a fabulous alternative art space! Especially during this time period when it is not possible to gather inside smaller spaces. The gallery window is a bay window that is accessed and viewed from outside. I would like to say a huge thank you to the Ministry for keeping art accessible and for maintaining this beautiful space so well. Also, thank you to all of you that stopped by to check out this installation. Without you the work is just a private project in my studio… but by viewing the work you actually activate the art and bring it to life. Thank you!!!
I took the installation down on Saturday and wasn’t sure where to store it… then my husband found the best storage spot!
I just discovered an old artform while watching a BBC documentary (Coasts) that I had not known existed: diatom arranging. That’s right. Organizing microscopic, single-cell organisms into kaleidoscope-like patterns… by hand! Never heard of it before? Me either. Possibly because when it was popular was in the 1800’s. I love this early connection between art and science.
Work by German microscopist J.D. Möller
The above work was created by Johann Diedrich Möller (1844 – 1907). He had decided to become a professional artist but then discovered the microscope. This changed the course of his future and Möller quickly realized that he preferred working with microscopes and slides to painting. He got a job building microscopes and grinding lenses and eventually had his own business. He created many beautiful arrangements of diatoms which can be divided into three types of designs: geometric arrangements, grid arrangements (for identification), and winding strands of a variety of diatoms (often collected from the same location or showing similar types.
So where exactly does one find diatoms? They are found in practically any body of water: oceans, rivers, streams, lakes and even puddles. And what are they? They are single-celled microalgae contained within thin walls of silica (like glass). They exist in a plethora of shapes and designs and are often referred to as “jewels” because of their beauty and delicacy.
While this artform has all but been forgotten there are still a few sci-artists that continue the tradition. Klaus Kemp is a leading contemporary diatom arranger and has earned the title “The Diatomist” for his work. Click here to view an excellent video where he talks about his work and his process (I highly recommend checking it out).
Work by Klaus Kemp
If you feel like you need to learn more about this, here are a few more resources for you: