Ouch ouch ouch to write.

And then to go to the show and watch people move around the room, stopping in front of the statement card, reading it thoroughly; then glancing at the work and moving on.

Ouch ouch ouch to watch.

Why does this happen?

Partly, I think, it’s because as we go through school, most of us experience a word-oriented education. We learn that the pictures, however colorful and interesting, are there only to illustrate the words, the really important part of the book or article. Blog posts, magazines, newspapers — all are word-oriented with images as an accompaniment. The images are the bread on the dinner table, not the main course on your plate.

(You read the paragraph before you looked at the picture, didn’t you? :-) )

I don’t think we can change this behavior entirely without making radical changes to the way we think of education. I do think, though, that we can make changes to the way we present our art — changes that command the viewer to look first, then to read.

Follow me and I’ll explain.

This whole train of thought began when an artist wrote about a quilt she had made, a strong statement about a political event, about human rights and poverty. She appeared to be somewhat dissatisfied that, although the work had been exhibited in several large shows, it had received very little attention. The artist has not asked for a commentary or critique, so I will not identify her or the work.

I looked at pictures she had posted and I read the statement she had included in the exhibitions. It was immediately apparent to me why it had been overlooked: the statement, the words, were very strong about a poignant and heartbreaking series of events. The image itself was not. It was semi-representational, but other than part of a human figure, it was difficult to determine visually what was being depicted. As pure visual design, as color and pattern, it wasn’t interesting enough to stand on its own. The viewer had to read the words to understand what the image was supposed to be about.

Let me illustrate with some of my own works.

All That Jazz

Pure color, shape, movement. It doesn’t mean anything, really, except a visual representation of the feeling I have when listening to jazz music. It’s colorful, fun to look at, and doesn’t need explanation.

My artist’s statement about it would be essentially what I wrote above.

Hole in the Sky

Before I tell you about the symbology behind this piece, look at the image for a moment and think about what it might say to you. (I’d love it if you left a comment below and told me your thoughts, too.)

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History: The original title of the piece was “Codeine Dreams.” Several years ago I had a bout with pneumonia and during recovery was prescribed a cough syrup with a small amount of codeine, which produced extremely vivid dreams. One of the recurring themes was this hole in the broken sky with the ladder leading upwards.

Some time later I began to realize where the image had come from. In Pueblo mythology, the People are always moving upwards through the worlds, evolving from lower animals to human and onward to something more, something spiritual. Have you ever been to the southwest and visited a kiva? Kivas have a round hole in the roof reached by a ladder, the only means of ingress and egress to the sacred place. The ladder represents climbing out of the now, the imperfect present, into the upper world above.

In my dreams, the ladder was disconnected, requiring a leap of faith to move upward from rung to rung. The kiva, the present, was shattered, and the only way out was to go up.

I was excited about this, about realizing where the image had come from — until I started thinking about writing an artist’s statement for exhibition. Hm. Way too much explanation. Boring. Couldn’t stand on its own.

I put it away and never finished it.

Then, a few months ago, I showed it without comment to a friend, who saw an entirely different meaning, something equally weighty, without knowing what the image said to me or what its history had been.

I began to think that maybe the image was strong enough to stand on its own. What do you think?

Listening to the Hurricane Rain

Anyone who followed the news in that terrible summer of 2005 will probably recognize the story: New Orleans. Hurricane Katrina. Superdome. The roof tiles being torn away, torrential rains coming in. People trapped inside, terrified, not knowing whether they would live or die. No escape.

Even without the story, though, the image of loneliness, despair, and fear as the sky shatters and the walls break is strong enough to stand on its own. It could refer to any number of situations evoking those emotions and would speak to different viewers in terms of their own experiences.

My statement for this one would be short and simple, probably very similar to the first paragraph above.

So — does it need an artist’s statement?

My answer, one answer, is this: If the image is strong, it will catch the viewer’s attention first. They will respond to the image, they will spend time looking at it first, and only later will read the statement to find out what you thought it was about.

If you have to write what it’s about in order for the image to make sense, then perhaps the image isn’t strong enough. How can you make it better?

Your turn

Can you think of other examples? Does this ring true — strong images that don’t need words — about your work?

Leave me a comment and let’s start a discussion.

Use invisible thread, of course.

I essentially quit writing earlier this year for several reasons. I broke my hand; I was busy with work, which includes much typing and was progressing much more slowly than usual due to the break; I had done no art for more than a year; and my life was very uneventful and I simply had nothing to say.

The hand has healed, mostly, although it’s still not quite as it was. I’m busier than ever with work, for which I am extremely thankful. I still haven’t done any art.

But for some reason, a couple of months ago my husband decided after 34 years of marriage that perhaps it was time to go out and do things. Social things. Visual and performing arts things.

It started late in the summer, I think. We had gone to several of the summer classic movies at the Alabama Theatre, a 1927 movie palace extravaganza in downtown Birmingham. At one of them I noticed a poster advertising a performance of the Nutcracker by the Moscow Ballet, scheduled for the Alabama late in November. I made some general comment about not having been to a live ballet since elementary school, and he asked, completely out of the blue, “Would you like to go?”

Then he started wondering about seasonal events. I started checking local calendars and setting up things for us to see and do. So far, just in the past month, we’ve

• seen an exhibition of artifacts from Pompeii: Tales of an Eruption at the Birmingham Museum of Art;
• attended a performance of Handel’s Messiah by the Alabama Civic Chorale;
• visited an exhibition by many of Alabama’s famous folk artists, including Thornton Dial, Mose Tolliver, Nora Ezell, and Lonnie Holley;
• attended a performance of Christmas music by Colla Voce, a 30-voice ensemble, presented at a local church.

The ballet is Friday night. On Saturday night we go to another Festival of Christmas Music at Samford University. There’s another one Sunday afternoon by the Birmingham-Southern College choir, and an orchestral performance the following Sunday. I have at least one more art exhibition I want to see, The Black Madonna at the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute.

So I will have some things to talk about for a while. I’m looking forward to comparing the various choral groups’ performances, because there are great differences even to my untrained ear.

It isn’t fiber art, but hey. I’m getting there.

Note: This is not a link or embed; it’s a screen capture. Don’t try to click it.

Now in this particular case I know who Steve is (a brilliant, insightful, well-liked political blogger who died this week at a tragically young age) so I can guess what the content might be.

In many cases, though, the posts consists of a title like “For your viewing pleasure,” which is uninformative and does not inspire me to click through and watch. It takes up screen room, it takes up bandwidth, and it strikes me as being supremely lazy. When I have nothing to say, I don’t post. It seems like such a waste of effort to embed a YouTube video without comment just to have something to list on the post calendar for that day.

Okay, now I’ve had my say for the day. It was perhaps a trifle lazy, but I got it out of my system.

April was extremely busy. My sister and I spent two weeks in Houston at the M D Anderson Cancer Center (she has a rare type of thyroid cancer). I worked on a new website which should be launching in the next few weeks.

Oh, yeah, and I fell and broke my hand. My right hand.

I never before realized just how right-handed I am.

Cooking, everyday chores, and gardening are all extremely difficult with only one hand available (and that the weaker hand). But it’s getting easier with practice and my left hand and arm are growing stronger. I’ve learned to chop vegetables backwards and discovered that ragged trapezoids taste just as good as perfectly neat little dice, even if they don’t look as good. Yesterday, with the help of my son, I transplanted another four tomatos and six pepper plants. I got one potato barrel started. I’d planted a few of my seed potatoes into small clay flower pots when it became apparent that I was going to be out of commission for a while, and the vines were coming up strong and sturdy. They needed room! And dirt! There are still two more barrels to prepare and more vines to transplant, but I am feeling fairly good about what I’ve been able to accomplish.

I go back to the orthopedist Thursday for a follow-up. If everything is healing well I may graduate from the cast into a removable splint, which will be delightful because it’s driving me nuts not being able to wash.

Next goal: get back into the studio and figure out how to create without doing any more harm. (Left-handed rotary cutting? Um, no.)

Hot Glue Tip #1: If you glue your finger, hand, or any other appendage to your project, don’t panic. That burning sensation will fade away eventually. (As you’re waiting for it to fade, think about how great it is for reminding you that you’re alive!)

Hot Glue Tip #2: Once the burning sensation has subsided, don’t rip your project off your appendage. (Unless you want to feel alive some more.) Gently roll your project off your appendage. Or, just leave it there and stay decorated!

Hot Glue Tip#3: If you cut yourself with your craft knife, a blob of hot glue will stop the bleeding very nicely. (But again, there’s a great feeling of aliveness involved.)

Hot Glue Tip #4: If you have a glue string coming out the end of your glue gun, don’t pull and pull on it for several minutes, unless you want a huge spiderweb to appear.

Hot Glue Tip #5: After you have unplugged your hot glue gun and waited a few minutes, don’t use your fingers to check and see if it’s cool enough to put away.

Fast speaking announcer dude: This public service message has been brought to you by your friendly neighborhood ghost.

One thing I want to do is finally to clean out some old projects, some fabric I will never use again, maybe some materials as well. I’ve spent years collecting things and making samples for classes that I’ve taught, but now I’ve come to the conclusion that teaching is in my past. I don’t need to keep these samples any more; I have no place to put them; and neither of my children is interested in keeping them.

I began this morning, actually: I pulled out half a dozen samples and a couple of art pieces. I pressed the wrinkled ones and set up the photo backdrop. I took pictures of the first piece and set up the second. The camera batteries gave up the ghost, and when I put new batteries in, nothing happened. The camera’s about four years old and there’s a new and worrisome little rattle inside the body — did something short out? Fall out of its socket inside?

Well, I didn’t plan to spend the money right after Christmas, but… for less than I paid for this one, I can get a much nicer, new model with more bells and whistles and the 6X optical zoom that’s a must for my work. I ordered it today and it should be here on Friday. So samples, fabric, et al will be posted toward the end of the week or on this weekend. I hope you’ll come back and browse.

In other news: The mannequin has been missing most of the year. Last winter and spring the house where she lives suffered damage in at least two separate storms. The roof was covered with blue tarp for months, and her window stayed empty while the owners waited for the roof to be repaired. She appeared briefly in Hallowe’en costume and again in evening dress just before Christmas, but neither time did I have the now-defunct camera with me. Yesterday when I passed her house, I saw that her window was tarped over with plastic. There were chunks of broken concrete lying on the porch near the window — did some neighborhood hooligan throw a block through the glass? I’ll keep an eye out and report when I know more.