In this newsletter you’ll find:
Studio Views
Visiting art
Things to read etc.
Editor wanted
Studio Views
Blue, endless blues; Lake Huron, indigo.
These shadows from my garden:
Enjoying pattern and line in paint and in the garden.
Stripes! A project I’m working on. Are you into stripes? What do you like/dislike about them? Tell me your thoughts and preferences about stripes and weaving them (or drawing, knitting, or painting them — or just enjoying them as a human!).
Visiting art
I recently visited the Art Gallery of Burlington and saw Alize Zorlutuna’s multidisciplinary exhibition We Who Have Known Many Shores.
My first sense was of being in a home with a courtyard. There were so many markers of domesticity: hanging curtains, vases, sprigs of dried plants, tiles. The second thing I felt was that this was a space of change, like a lakeshore, where people, water and weather come and go.
Afterwards, skimming the exhibition statement, I read that these were, indeed, two themes that Zorlutuna is exploring in this exhibition’s works. One of the things I love about craft is its connection to the everyday rituals and materiality of humanity; the jar we use to hold rice or the clothing we wear, for example. Through a craft-based methodology that utilized the five elements (earth, air, water, fire, and spirit), Zorlutuna filled the gallery with small material evidences of this connection: beaded curtains, a small hand broom, a bubbling fountain. Even though we were the only people in the gallery, it felt like I’d stepped into a home’s courtyard a moment after everyone else had left; some bustling multi-generational home with lots of aunties and side quests and activity.
Some of the ideas Zorlutuna explores through this work are displacement, home, and ancestry. The work was informed by a mix of craft approaches and disciplines the artist has gathered from years of practice and engagement in cultures from Anatolia as well as the Southwest Asia and North Africa region.
The marbled textiles that hang in one corner of the exhibition are especially striking. Rippling in the (HVAC) breeze, they reminded me of portals or doorways; slightly sheer, you can pass around and through them. The marbling, especially, made me think of blending two materials together: about how at the beginning they are distinct, but as you knead or mix together, they come into one.
In the centre of the gallery, rugs and other textiles are piled together on the floor, welcoming visitors to sit and contemplate. The detritus of home (dried peels of pomegranate, lemon, and fig) along with chunky ceramic beads make up the bead-and-fabric curtains in parts of the exhibition and felt very much like another type of gateway. All there needed to be was scent; a tea pot and box of Turkish Delight perched on a side table pointed to the possibility of a multi-sensory moment.
We Who Have Known Many Shores closes on September 1, 2024. I also visited, and participated in, Magdolene Dykstra’s Exchanging Presence, swapping my fingerprint, pressed into a small piece of clay, for one of the artists.
Things to Read etc.
I finished reading Erin Zimmerman’s Unrooted, which I think is especially relatable if you’re a woman in science or research, but which was highly enjoyable from my position as a nature-curious person.
I liked this interview on Decorating Dissidence between Julie Tanner and curator Róisín Inglesby on the exhibition Art Without Heroes: Mingei (William Morris Gallery, London, UK). In case you’ve never heard of it, mingei was a 20th century movement in Japan celebrating folk craft made by (largely) anonymous makers. That’s a very simplified explanation of a much more complex theory and movement which I think the interview digs into a bit more. Inglesby introduces a wonderful term in Japanese: ‘kotoba no hitori aruki,’ or, ‘a word walking on its own,’ which describes when a term has become disconnected from its original context or meaning.
Adding to my exhibitions to visit list: Quilts: Made in Canada at the ROM in Toronto. On until November 17, 2024.
I’m already in preparation mode for the next academic term and one of the videos I have saved for my students is from More Perfect Union on YouTube: It’s Not Just Shein: Why Are ALL Your Clothes Worse Now? And as a more hopeful follow-up, A beautiful second life: creating art from recycled materials from the ABC.
I went to the (virtual) World Hope Forum: Germany at the beginning of July. It was excellent! I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did; this edition was curated by the team at Ornamenta, and focused on the German concept of kur, or taking the waters — going to the spa! Not as a status-focused activity meant for a select (wealthy) few, but something that many folks around the world have been doing for relaxation and mental health for centuries. Having travelled and used the hotpot and onsen regularly in both Iceland and Japan, I am very much into a hot soak! I especially liked Dr. Astrid Köhler’s overview of the history of spas, and Julia F. Christensen on dance. The recording is not yet available online, but you can view other past editions on their website here.
Editor Wanted
Hi! Are you an editor? I’m looking for someone who can professionally edit some creative/instructional text for me that’s about weaving, art, and design — I’m pretty good, but maintaining style, perfecting my grammar, etc. is maybe more than I can keep track of as a non-pro. It’s a job with less than 10k words and should be very straightforward.
You don’t have to be a weaver or artist, but it may be helpful. I would prefer a Canadian (it’s easier to pay you and the exchange rate is terrible for CAN to USD…) but don’t let that stop you — if you think you might be able to help me and would like to know more, please introduce yourself via email (amandarataj at gmail (.) com). I believe in paying people, but I am also interested in non-monetary exchanges as someone uncomfortable with capitalism, so let me know what you’re looking for in terms of compensation or we can chat about it!
Best wishes from my sunny garden studio,
Amanda