Guerilla Mosaic

I was just listening to NPR and heard the story about this mosaic, which appeared under a bridge in Encinitas, California, last night. It's 10 by 10 feet and made of stained glass. Obviously some talented artist made it, and invested quite a lot of money in materials. It shows beautiful movement, in the drapery and the waves, and the face and hands are remarkably detailed. City officials are in a quandary, because the piece qualifies as graffiti, technically illegal, but who could take down something so lovely? The words on the side say "save the ocean," but it might well say, "save the mosaic."

Read the whole story here. 

Wedding Bonus

Those who were lucky enough to have a seat in Westminster Abbey for the royal wedding last Friday might have caught a glimpse of this floor. It is a mosaic created in 1268 (!) but usually covered up when the Abbey was used for special occasions because it was in such disrepair. It was recently restored with the help of a grant from the Getty Foundation (read the full story here).

It's called the Cosmati pavement after its Italian creators, a family of famous skilled artisans of the time. The floor is 24 feet square (which actually makes my knees hurt just thinking about the time it took to create). It's truly a stunning and intricate Medieval piece - almost abstract, with its variety of designs and images that are all different. In addition to marble, the floor is made from onyx, purple porphyry, green serpentine, and yellow limestone, with opaque glass pieces in cobalt blue, red, turquoise, and bluish-white. It is a clear testament to the enduring beauty of mosaic in all its forms.   

Other Art Projects

I recently took a sculpture class at Ringling College, the gift of a good friend. While the focus in the class was on planar sculpture (this image is one of my projects, done in copper), I learned a great deal about three-dimensional work, which I am looking forward to applying to mosaic. For one thing, the instructor, Joni Younkins-Herzog, emphasized looking at a piece to be sure that it was interesting from all sides. Since I've been working mostly in two dimensions on flat surfaces with mosaic heretofore, this basic tenet had not penetrated my brain. Well, duh! I also learned about considering negative space, and how to move away from my predominantly realistic approach to see an image in more abstract, suggestive terms.  I was hoping for this transition; I had been feeling for quite a while that I was sort of "stuck" in the realism mode.

Now I am re-examining all of the 3-D pieces I've done previously -- as well as my ideas for future projects -- to see how they can be improved using the techniques and theories I've learned in the class. It was great to be in class again -- like a brain refreshment, which I'm sure will improve any art I do in the future.       

Looking Back, Looking Forward

My dear sister Barbara Porter died last week. Besides being a good friend, as everyone who reads this blog knows, she has been a source for many unusual garage sale finds that I use in my mosaics. She will live on in her three beautiful children, her sweet new granddaughter age 6 1/2 months, and in all of her many contributions to art and life. I will miss her.

Hubcaps

The Landfill Art Project is a creative endeavor by artists all over the country and even internationally, to transform the lowly hubcap into a work of art. I found out about the project through my friend Elizabeth St. Hilaire Nelson (see her hubcap entry on her blog post, here) and decided to submit one myself. My hubcap, titled "Land, Ho," uses all repurposed materials, including a sweet little ship that my sister Barbara sent me a long time ago from a yard sale find. The bird is another of her finds: an enameled brooch. And so is the lighthouse, one of a collection of 10 or so from another yard sale. 

The picture below it is the "before" shot. I have to admit, the bump in the center threw me a bit at first (I'd never inspected a hubcap closely), but it finally worked itself out, as projects usually do!  I used plaster strips to cover the holes around the edges.

Visit the Landfill Art website for pictures of the hundreds of other submissions so far. There's nothing like reusing something that would usually be thrown away!

Marble Adventure - Complete!

I've just been packing up the mosaic ready to install on Friday. I cut it into manageable sections so it won't be so heavy to lift into place (marble weighs a ton). This picture shows it still on my table. If I had it to do over, there are things I'd change about the design, but the client is happy, so I'm happy too.  I've also heard that there is a real possibility that the tile installer who's doing the rest of the bathroom might install this for me. Hallelujah! I am ready and willing to do it myself, but this is one of those cases where the mind is willing but the body ain't as nimble as it used to be, so I will be even happier if he does it. 

I've learned a lot on this project, and now I have a new skill in my toolkit. The marble is temperamental but so beautiful. Someday I'd like to hop down to Miami and have a quick lesson on the hammer and hardie, if they do that kind of thing (Gina Hubler's Miami Mosaic Academy is there). In the meantime, I'm cleaning up my guest room, where I've been working since it turned cold in November (!), as it is now reliably warm enough to go back out to my backyard studio. On to the next project! 

Teachers We Remember

Fellow mosaic artist Eve Lynch recently posted some interesting thoughts about why art history matters, on her blog Creative Nonconformity. It is an interesting question, and one that every artist is going to have a different answer to. I believe that art history is best learned when it is absorbed, like osmosis, by simply looking.  In college I had a wonderful professor - I don't remember his name - who taught an art history class in this way. He announced at the first class that grading would be a simple pass-fail, and that we would pass simply by showing up. He told us to put away our notebooks and pens, and said that he wanted us to simply look at the slides he presented, listen to his descriptions, and think about them. 

I loved that class. I don't remember what any of my fellow students said about that class, but as for me, I think I absorbed more about art history in that class than in any other. Years later, often when I would see a painting or sculpture, I'd remember it from that class and how it made me feel. Learning often is most successful when there is no pressure to learn.