Today is an important milestone for me – three years ago today was the beginning of a different life. That was the day I went to run at the track and ended up at the Emergency room from having a seizure and diagnosis of a large brain tumour. I crossed a threshold that day into a journey of healing and accepting that my life would never return to what it was before. Thinking about that this morning, as I ran along the river, my feet crunching on fresh snow, I’m okay with where I am now - joy has returned to my life. While this year has been different and difficult at times (and honestly, I'm so tired of Covid-19 related topics, I'm only going to acknowledge it in passing), it was also a year of regaining lost ground. I made a lot of art and I’m pleased about the direction that is heading. I had so many classes cancelled or postponed, but I also discovered I have a knack for teaching online. Reaching new audiences and experimenting with class formats on Zoom has been such a treat. While I wasn’t able to work the season at Heritage Park, it allowed me to connect with Alberta Printmakers at a whole new level. All this being said, I am really looking forward to 2021 and hopefully a return to routine. I am delighted to announce that I will have a solo show at the end of January at the Leighton Centre Tower Gallery. Check this out for more information. I hope you are able to take it in once the Covid-19 restrictions are lifted! Thank you to everyone who took the time to encourage me in my artistic journey this year - your words made a lot of this possible. It is so exciting for me to be able to post about all sorts of upcoming Zoom and in person (but socially distant and outside) workshops and demonstrations. I've been teaching a bit over the past few months over Zoom and I'll be honest, that human interaction has been a real pick me up. If you need a little of that or if you want to get out into the fresh air for some drawing sessions, hopefully there is something here to lift you up! Below are some offerings grouped by venue: The Leighton Art Centre, Alberta Printmakers and Inglewood Art Supplies. I keep adding new classes to my main page as they are finalized so this blog post might get out of date - always check there first to see what is on tap in the coming weeks. ![]() The Leighton Art Centre: Plein Air Sketching 1 Day Workshops July 18th (sold out), August 22nd, September 12th, 2020 10:00 am - 4:00 pm Document your travels with creative flair! Using a variety of techniques with watercolour and ink, learn the secrets of capturing architecture, nature, and indoor scenes while you are on the road. This class will focus on a wide range of approaches for quickly capturing the moment with easy-to-transport supplies as well plenty of practical information of what to bring on your adventures! Each session will focus on different areas of the beautiful Leighton property as well as feature different drawing skills and techniques. Join for one session or come for all! Classes will be observing the latest recommendations for Covid-19 safety with outdoor social distancing and individual supply kits for each participant. If you have further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact us! Registration cost: $85 plus GST & Eventbrite Fees* * or register by phone: 403-931-3633, Wed-Sun, 10 am – 4 pm to avoid Eventbrite fees For more information and to register, click here. ![]() Alberta Printmakers: Pressing Onwards Series: Carving Tool Maintenance Interactive Online Demo via Zoom July 22nd, 2020 6:30pm - 8:30 pm Join Michelle Wiebe as she guides you through the science and practice of maintaining razor sharp edges on your gouges. Having a properly maintained set of tools will result in greater carving accuracy, longer lasting blades, reduced physical fatigue as well as less chance of injury. Using a basic set up of easily made or purchased tools she will show you how to hone, sharpen and repair dings on your U gouges, V gouges and Chisels. All items demonstrated can either be inexpensively purchased locally or else up-cycled from easily sourced scraps. Learn more and register here to receive Zoom link to participate. ![]() Inglewood Art Supplies: Drawing Outdoors Made Fast and Easy 1 Day Mini Workshops (or sign up for all three) August 1st, 8th and 29th, 2020 10:30 am - 1:00 pm Great class to get you started with drawing and build confidence sketching outdoors, each class will feature different locations and drawing exercises to help you build your own sketchbook routine! Saturday August 1 -Warm up drawings, found objects & still life Saturday August 8 -Warm up, architecture and structural forms Saturday August 29 -Warm up, detailed work, natural forms and texture Each class: $30.00 +GST or all three classes: $80.00 +GST Supplies not included. Register with a friend and Save 10% For more information and to register, click here. With the new directions my work has been taking lately mixed in with headlines talking about equality, I have been learning new things about my art and myself. There has been a close examination of these issues through the lens of being a woman, from being mixed race, from having interests that are predominantly male centric, from having chronic illness, and from a lack of institutional qualifications. A lot of who I am is just how I was born; I did not have the option to pick and choose my traits or much of my situation. For a long time, I have regretted that I rarely fit neatly into institutions and established systems - my interests or background do not always dovetail nicely with the existing framework. With the exception of people on the inside with generous hearts taking me at face value and extending a hand of invitation, I find a lot of what I am interested in has been subject to knowledge gatekeepers or old fashioned notions of “it’s always been done this way” without the possibility of exploring the options. Recently, I have been thinking about how I contribute even if I do not often have a set place at the table, the table being a metaphor for the way the art world has typically run. Slowly it has been dawning on me that my job with my art and as an instructor has been increasingly about building a new table. It is not refined table, just something makeshift. Like someone in their first apartment, the substance on this table can be meagre at times too – I have limits on what I can offer. The beauty of constructing it though is that everyone is welcome. Personally, I am often far more interested in who has never been to the table and why they want to be there. Yes, pull up a chair, you are welcome at this table. Another thing I like about this table, is while I might make a space for it, or put the bare framework together, I do not own it. This table can grow and shift as more people come to it and contribute their thoughts and ideas. A table like this lends itself to a potluck approach, the viewer or the student brings something as well and it adds more choice delicacies to sample. I recognize that there are other new tables being built – some of these might suit some tastes or dietary needs better. This is good. There is also the possibility of extending or joining tables down the road, should there be more space required. With my latest work, a lot of it explores this sense of having no place to properly belong; severed ties missed connections and the feeling of being set adrift through policies and predominant attitudes. I know that I am not alone in this, so it felt like time to share where I am at with the hopes of others being encouraged to speak up about their journey. With teaching, there is a reason why I love introduction or basic skills-oriented sessions. The act of empowering someone to finally express their creative thoughts and discover their potential puts wind in my sails like very few things on this earth. Now though, my focus has been putting together a little table, set with my artwork, my classes and most importantly, my time. Please come and have a seat if you want or if the other tables do not have room for you – I am happy to see you here. * A note about the artwork, This is what I've been loosely calling my Protest Poster series (this series is unfinished as I don't have access to the studio at Alberta Printmakers to use the Vandercook press due to COVID-19.) These are exploring ideas of lost culture and language. Broken letterforms (by using P22 Blox, a fragmented typeface) and signifiers (the bandolier blocks) that don't have the full scope of meaning and are layered and printed to create a picture of chaos and scattered thoughts. These are printed on Domtar Cougar 130lb paper in white and are limited editions of ten. I have been working with a growing collection of hand carved linoleum blocks since January. They are unique for a few reasons. First is their custom cut dimension of 1” x 9” – I refer to them in my notes as the ‘long blocks” when planning. Second is their distilled subject matter, an interpretation of 19th century Anishinaabe beadwork patterns used for the creation of bandolier bags – a popular trade item with the settlers from overseas. The initial designs of this decorative item being modelled from ammunition bags from Europe. Finally, they are mounted to be what is referred to as “type high” (.918”) so that I can lock them into a printing press and produce many copies cleanly and efficiently using my vintage Chandler and Price platen press. I wanted to be restrained with my usual inclination towards perfection. I deliberately left carved marks in place and the occasional quirk in ink application (as long as it was consistent within the edition). These lino blocks were meant to feel handmade and imperfect. My current project, the Sibling Series, was born from a friend’s observation that it would be interesting to see the blocks printed without any overlap. Until that conversation, I had not considered this possibility of starkly presenting each of the blocks for viewers to evaluate on their own. Up until that point, I had been burying and layering with many components obscured, which felt comfortable to me. I planned out a series which would be printed in tandem all at the same time. The concept was to use the long blocks to symbolize traits, 5 blocks used in each piece. They were printed so that no two pieces has the same combination of blocks or the same combination of colours. This is to reflect how our ancestry comes out genetically. Each piece in the series resembles each other closely, much like a family. To reflect that French settlers were encouraged to marry within First Nation communities, I decided to name each piece in this series with a common name from 19th Century French communities. Another nod to mixed heritage.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about my family heritage and reflecting on what that means with regards to our genetic make-up all the way to what it means to be a part of community. Some of you may have noticed a shift in my recent work. On the surface, these pieces began their journey as paper being fed through a printing press. As they rotated through, they made contact with various arrangements of linocut blocks. Each colour printed is a separate pass through the press. A lot of joy went into mixing transparent inks with just a hint of pigment, so as to allow the layers to influence and change each other – another way to express this jumble of genetics we possess from the start that cause us to prefer or not prefer elements of the world around us. Different branches of the family tree juxtaposed in unique ways. Once the printing was complete and the paper was dry, the pieces were then mounted on cradled panels to give them structure for the subsequent layers of acrylic texture and paint that were then applied. These layers speak to life situations and experience that grow and shape us, taking those original genetics and deeply influencing how one appears and reacts, enhancing some features while obscuring others. So far, I’ve only talked about family in general terms, these pieces could speak to any family situation. Ones filled with joy and support, others with distance and regret – they cover the spectrum of human connectivity. This series is also deeply personal as well, the linoleum blocks themselves tell their own story, in some ways too close and revealing yet equally distant and covered in dense fog. My story is not so different for many Canadians – it’s a bit like living in a cultural mezzanine level. Not quite Anglo-Saxon white, not quite Indigenous either. There is damage to our family tree that has never really been fully examined or repaired. Growing up, we have always been proud of our First Nations ancestry but have been isolated from it so long that there are very few fragments to connect to. Some of this is physical distance, some of this is from the cultural climate. While there is a desire to connect in this way, there is the reality that this could be potentially awkward for all involved. My identity is this strange mixture of European and Ojibwe influences, I wanted to reflect that within this work. I started reading and learning what I could about Anishinaabe art around the time of contact with Europeans. Not all things from this period are dark – trade between these worlds gave my ancestors beautiful glass beads and fresh inspiration from imported linens. Many items produced in this time were for trade and reflect an understanding of the tastes of the time across the ocean. This amalgamation was where I wanted to start My main inspiration for these patterns came from Anishinaabe made bandolier bags from the late 19th century. A bandolier bag is mostly a thick strap that meets at the base where a small pouch might be fashioned, and they are worn across the body from one shoulder to the opposite hip. They are heavily beaded and might be adorned with tassels. They were originally modelled after European ammunition bags and often used for ceremonial purposes if not sold or traded. As an aside, I really dislike a lot of what can be described as cultural appropriation – it tends to ignore the sacredness of ceremonial objects, takes income from marginalized groups, removes their voices and stories and often becomes a garish mimicry of cultural stereotypes. I’ve reflected long and hard on whether or not it is possible to appropriate from one’s own culture if you aren’t raised within it. For artists, this is worth much discussion over, I’ve found that there are no easy answers. I chose to make these for my own growth and to express my love for my lineage and I would not classify them as “Indigenous Art” in a any sense. Part of what drew me to these Ojibwe textile art pieces from contact times were that they were not purely Indigenous – there is a hefty amount of European influence visible. I learn best through examination, so I set about poring over photos of these textiles. I decided to isolate each type of pattern that I particularly enjoyed and tried to reproduce it. Now, I wanted to fight the obvious answer here and did not want to make what looked like beadwork. I decided to distill these patterns to their simplest geometric shapes and carve them on linoleum. I didn’t do a faithful replica either, but in the spirit of my forebearers I improvised a little to make the designs my own. As a nod to the mass hand production of these works destined for trade, I printed them on a vintage printing press so as to amplify that idea of hand produced but not as a family or ceremonial treasure. I’ve only just gotten started with these bandolier bag inspired blocks. I’ve created a whole visual vocabulary with them and have started to print other series, addressing different aspects of what it means to grapple with my identity. These pieces and more can currently be found at Bluerock Gallery, online and in person. Now that the world has had a chance to settle into the groove of self isolation, I have noticed something about my various responses to this unprecedented situation. At first my instincts were to comb through my studio and reorganize everything, to seize the opportunity afforded to me that comes with an empty calendar. I spent a few days preparing for busy times ahead and innocently assumed that I would keep that momentum going. Next came grieving, a malaise that crept over me as I saw all sorts of plans I had poured time and energy into evaporate. Things that filled my cup or that I had been greatly anticipating were scrubbed from my foreseeable future within a matter of hours. While I am normally quite an optimistic person, this blow kept me down for a little while as I processed the long term implications of this pandemic. Thankfully, this eventually lifted and I shifted into passionately wanting to help and bring change. To use this time to reach out to people and do what I could to find good things in a bad situation. While I was experiencing the euphoria of this phase, a few connections were made and some wonderful moments were had. This type of phase is hard to sustain though, so it steadily declined after it peaked. Then the numbers on the news started to get to me. The idea of going out and being near potential infection became a sobering reality. Low grade worry about health in my household and for vulnerable friends and family settled in. Self isolation became forefront in my routine and not only did I close myself off to the physical world, I retreated from the social world for a couple days. Now I am bored, so I am puttering around in my studio but not really working. Hibernation is a good word for where I am at currently. I feel like the frozen dirt under the snow that is waiting for the thaw. The potential for work and growth is there, but right now it is not the season. The past few days have been difficult ones for anyone who makes their livelihood in the arts sector (or gig-economy in general). Each morning our social media and inboxes have been flooded with a kaleidoscope of changing plans to sanitize openings and classrooms to putting workshops off a week or two to finally, with our province declaring a state of emergency, indefinitely postponing all workshops, classes, openings, talks and even closing museums and galleries.
Disappointing, but absolutely the right thing to do - as an instructor, my first priority is the well being of the people in my classes. Your health is important, my health is important as is the health of our loved ones. Painting, letterpress and linocut can wait a few more weeks. Some thoughts for all of you who have received those disappointing emails over the past few days. If your financial situation has become more precarious since all these closures and announcements have come - please take refunds if they are offered and then sign up for things when your situation has improved. If you are doing okay, please keep yourself registered so that class can resume. If you are doing okay but the new date doesn't work, consider transferring your registration to someone who could use a pick me up or donate the registration fee to the organization who is hosting the workshop. We artists and instructors are going to be hit by this in the coming months, so if you are in a place to buy art or theatre tickets or sign up for interesting classes just know that you will be helping a lot of people who might need it. Contract workers and freelancers tend to fall through typical safety nets during times like this, so every bit of art related support helps us all in the end. For those of you who are fellow artists, instructors or are also put in a place of financial instability from this pandemic, let's have each other's backs through all this. Make a commitment to liking and sharing each other's posts and commenting support through our social media channels. I'll be totally honest about the last part I typed - this morning I was feeling pretty down about all these postponements and worried about people and organizations that I truly love. At some point, I just decided it was time to spread some sort of positive feeling on all the posts I came across. Let's all just decide to do that in the coming days. I know I felt better immediately and a little more in control of how I felt about all this. Stay safe and healthy, wash your hands, make art, sleep more, get some sunshine and don't hoard toilet paper. We are all in this together and I promise that soon enough things will start creaking back into a normal routine. When it does, I'll be waiting and ready to teach that darn workshop that just got postponed! I have stalled on writing this year end/beginning blog post. I think because, for a while I was thinking about the past decade and it really tripped me up. Long story short, I have not made the gains in the past 10 years that I would have wanted for myself. In fact, I'm in a totally different head space now than I was 10 years ago. So, in order to move this blog post forward, forget the past decade, that post would have been too whiny. Back to 2019 - what an unexpectedly good year. Here are some reasons why: 1. St. Louis is an amazing city and the Ladies of Letterpress Conference was filled to the brim with fantastic people, big machines and thousands of things to learn. I want to try my best to return this year. I feel like I only brushed the surface of potential those days can hold. I came home with many treasures and ideas that will keep me out of trouble for the bulk of 2020. I suspect. 2. I returned to my role at Heritage Park as a Trades Interpreter for the Strathmore Standard Newspaper Office. This was meaningful in a multitude of ways - working and learning on the letterpress equipment, broadening my historical knowledge of printing and most importantly the friendships that have come out of my time there. Plus, knowing that pictures of me wearing my Edwardian costume, clicking away on the Linotype are being posted to random tourist social media accounts worldwide is highly entertaining. 3. After taking a break during the year I was recovering, I resumed my membership at Alberta Printmakers and found lots of ways to become involved - serving on the Board, printing manhole covers, demonstrating linocut printmaking and teaching a Letterpress class! They won't be able to get rid of me in 2020, I have my eyes set on using their sweet Vandercook a whole lot more in the new year. 4. I became acquainted with the Making Treaty 7 Society and had a chance to show a piece that explores my First Nations heritage. This, along with group shows at the Calgary Stampede, The Leighton Art Centre and Alberta Printmakers, I have had a wonderful variety of venues to work with and audiences to reach. 5. Speaking of venues, along with those mentioned above, I need a special shout out to Bluerock Gallery in Black Diamond for not only carrying my work, but hosting a pop-up for me at Christmas. I also need to say thanks to Inglewood Art Supplies and Studio for having me in to teach so often and for being so flexible and fun to work with. 6. I am no longer in "recovery mode" - while I am not the same person I was a few years ago, I think I am far stronger and functional than I have been for many years. The small deficits that I have noticed are being worked on how to work around them (and that in itself has been a fun challenge to meet head on). Add to this that my family has had a good year without too many challenges as well - life truly is good. Of course there are more things to celebrate, but these are the big things that come to mind. So what is ahead for the coming year? More of the same, but with more refinement. I'm looking forward to teaching more, making more and sharing more in the months ahead. I am really wanting to push myself again (something that has been hard for a few years). I've been looking at a lot of art, reading lots and talking through some exciting projects. Hopefully 2020 will an even more exciting year! Oh and one other thing - Students: I have a whole slew of classes posted on my main page, ready for you to register for (and more coming soon) Click here for more info. Organizations and Art Groups: I have a bunch of new workshop and class ideas posted on my booking page (and customization is totally possible) Click here for more info. I am very excited to be starting an instructing contract with Town of Cochrane in 2020, it will be so great to get involved in my local arts community. At the moment, I have three classes that will fill the Wednesday afternoon 1:30 - 3:30 spot at Seniors on the Bow from January till May. The first two sessions are focused on Acrylic Paint, the last session is for drawing that should take us out and about the Spray Lake Sawmills Family Sports Centre property (weather permitting) Registration is now open (you can read more about these classes here) or read the descriptions below: ![]() Making Your Mark Beginner Acrylic Painting for 50+ Adults Seniors on the Bow, Cochrane AB January 15th - February 19th, 2020 Wednesdays 1:30 - 3:30 PM Learn the basics of painting and start working on your masterpiece! Students will learn how to choose their subject, prepare their canvas, apply paint with a variety of techniques as well as troubleshoot problem areas. Students will take home a completed painting and the knowledge to develop their skills further on their own $75.00 ($60.00 for SOTB Program Members) + Supplies & GST Students may bring their own supplies or purchase from the instructor. Supplies include canvas, paint, and use of brushes. Register here or contact Seniors on the Bow Centre at 403-932-6002 ![]() Exploring Texture with Acrylic Paint for Depth and Interest for 50+ Adults Seniors on the Bow, Cochrane AB February 26th - April 1st 2020 Wednesdays 1:30 - 3:30 PM Learn how to build rich layers into your paintings with simple tools and techniques. This will help you identify the different types of products available and how you can use them in art. Participants bring home a set of textured paintings that build colour with different approaches. $75.00 ($60.00 for SOTB Program Members) + Supplies & GST Students may bring their own supplies or purchase from the instructor. Supplies include canvas, paint, texture medium, brushes and palette knives. Register here or contact Seniors on the Bow Centre at 403-932-6002 ![]() Sketching - Take Your Sketchbook and Actually Use It! for 50+ Adults Seniors on the Bow, Cochrane AB April 29th - May 27th 2020 Wednesdays 1:30 - 3:30 PM Fill your sketchbook with memories at home or on vacation. Learn what to bring, how to pack it and everything you need to know for travelling with art supplies. This fast-paced class will help you beat every excuse preventing you from drawing when you are out and about. $62.50 ($50.00 for SOTB Program Members) + Supplies & GST Students may bring their own supplies or purchase from the instructor. Supplies include a sketchbook and 2 pens for students to keep. Register here or contact Seniors on the Bow Centre at 403-932-6002 I have very much enjoyed becoming a more active member with Alberta Printmakers this year. They are comprised of amazing artists and supporters who are super inclusive and encouraging. One of their yearly fundraising efforts is the Not So Mini Print Exchange and Exhibition. It is an international call and artists submit an edition of 10 prints. Of that edition, 8 prints get given to other artists and 2 go up for auction with the proceeds going to fund further A/P projects. My piece, The Fox and the Crow, was a return visit to an old theme that has been popping up in my work for about a decade. It's based off of a fable by Aesop - in it a crow has a tasty morsel of cheese in her beak. A sly fox decides to convince the crow that her voice is beautiful and that he wants her to sing. As she starts to caw and croak, the cheese drops to the ground and the fox runs away with the cheese. This has always been interpreted by me as a stark warning about flattery and other wasted words. I have a hard time receiving compliments, I tend to be very awkward and uncomfortable when this happens. This is a long standing thing - hence the reoccurring fox and crow theme that I relate to on a deeper level. This strangeness about compliments was recently pointed out to me and I started to process a little bit about why it is hard to hear those things (haven't totally figured that out). I do like receiving warm feedback (especially from those that I really respect their opinions) and I decided it was time to put the Fox and Crow theme to rest. It was the subject of a print I did a long time ago that was rushed and I was dissatisfied with the end result. This version I am much happier with. I printed it using 3 different blocks (the large red rectangle with scalloped pattern, the blue circle/floral blocks (used twice) and the final fox and crow block. I played around on my Chandler & Price treadle letterpress with very diluted pigment and tried my best to get nice registration and clean edges. It turned out well. I agonized over the composition for quite some time because I couldn't picture the placement very easily in my head - but at the end, I think it reads well. I feel like I am making slow art these days. Hopefully the flavours are that much more developed because of it. I also feel like I'm starting to make peace with some of my hesitations surrounding kind words about my work. Come and check it out and all the other amazing pieces at: Not So Mini Exhibition Alberta Printmakers December 6th - 21st, 2019 Find out more here. |
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