A Space In Time with Kate Senn (a.k.a. Kat Singer)

I became acquainted with Kate Senn (a.k.a. Kat Singer) via the loose association of artists known socially and locally as Twin Ports Arts Align. An artist in her own right, Kat has been an active participant in the TPAA Facebook community and an ongoing advocate for the arts.

EN: Where are you from originally and how did you come to the Twin Ports?

Kat Singer: I was born in Chicago, and my family migrated here when I was 8 years old. Although I had tried mightily in the past to escape the Sargasso-Grip of Gitchi-Gummi (or "Gitch, the Bitch" as I like to call her) I have recently made my peace with the reality that karma had planted my roots here too deeply to migrate elsewhere. Of course, just as soon as I came to that revelation, I started to really appreciate what the Lake Superior Basin has to offer... and even more, I began to notice the real artistic vibrancy bubbling just under the surface of Twin Ports culture. Now, (just as I am supposed to, I suppose) I am ever so grateful that I have remained here, because I finally understand the real value of the creative freedom afforded to communities that aren't awash in manufacturing, money-making, or marketing. What we have here is an opportunity to make art on every level of our community experience, and I am watching (and hopefully helping) as artists of all kinds "lead the way" in ways that just wouldn't be possible in areas with a more generic economic structure.

EN: What do you call this genre of art that you make?

KS: I guess we all find it hard to pigeon-hole ourselves that way, and I'm no exception. I aspire toward a New Romantic/Gothic/Retro-Futurism style.... but I tend to produce many things that could more properly be labeled "Creepy Kitsch". It could be that as I continue to perfect my techniques I will produce work closer to my aspirations... or... maybe I'll just make things that are creepier and kitschier.

EN: How did you come to take an interest in making necklaces and jewelry?

KS: Much of my work is about re-purposing, and a great deal of re-purposing can be accomplished in the arena of "wearable art." I like to scavenge rummage and estate sales for broken bits of adornment from bygone eras and incorporate them into something different, or give them new life, while still honoring their origination. Broken jewelry does tend to take wonderfully well to becoming re-purposed jewelry... and the time-consuming, fussy, detail work demanded by findings and fittings is perfect for occupying my mind on long winter nights in front of the Telly. It's also the kind of work you can do to keep up your momentum while waiting for a painting or a sculpture or a decoupage to dry. "Time Management for the Artist: Priming the Pump."

EN: How long have you been making this kind of work?

KS: What artist hasn't, in some way or another, been making art since birth? And who isn't born an artist? I just re-read this sentence... it sounds really pretentious and twee doesn't it? But, it's still true. Creativity isn't an ability limited to the exceptional few. We should all be able to answer this one similarly. To be sure, many are dissuaded by other factors, most notably the "I'm not good enough" albatross everybody seems to have hung around their necks... except for maybe Dali, who apparently escaped the usual self-esteem issues. In my case, I put much of my creative impulse aside while I worked a career as a government drone. Then, I retired, which gave me the time to do what I enjoy doing: creating interesting things from other things.

EN: Did you make the things on this page? What media?

KS: No. Those are memes I have grabbed off the internet. I made the things on the page next to it (titled, prosaically enough "Things I make"), but, I am a real student of themes, and memes, and all sorts of influences on the collective consciousness. I love the way the communication explosion of the new millennium has power to shape a shared understanding of our separate experiences. I'm also more than a little afraid of it ...

TO BE CONTINUED

Local Art Seen: Robin Murphy and the Clay Show in Duluth

Gatherer by Barb Broadwell

Nine days ago I shared images from the Possession Show, which will be on display in the Morrison Gallery at the Depot till November 2, and Canvas of Flesh. This past Thursday the Duluth Art Institute (DAI) held the opening reception for its three current shows, which included Robin Murphy's New Work in the Steffl Gallery.

Robin Murphy lives in Bayfield, on the south shore of Lake Superior. This truly great lake inspires artists on all of its shores, from Thunder Bay down through Grand Marais to the tip here in the Twin Ports and on to points east in Wisconsin. Little hideaways like Cornucopia and Oulu and Madeline Island are rich with arts expression.

Murphy received her M.F.A. from the Cranbrook Academy of Art and has taught here at the University of Minnesota, Duluth among other places. Like much of our local talent, their work has a far great reach than simply this region.

Robin Murphy's New Work

Evidently the past few years have proven to be a time of transition for her. When I found her artist statement on her website, it seemed to make a good to introduce you to what her current work is about. You'll want to be sure to check it out. In person it's simply wonderful. Thank you, Robin, for sharing yourself here at the DAI.

The Explanation

My work has undergone major transitions the past two years, from functional ceramics to animal and figurative sculpture. I have always been interested in sculptural work but didn't know where to begin. It's difficult to try something new when you have achieved a certain level of success with your present artistic direction.

The initial animal pieces were simple silhouettes resting in pot-like forms and highly decorated. Once I decided to abandon the pot and just make the animals/figures, a new door opened artistically for me. Function and decoration were no longer the issue, it was now about the animals/figures and how they exist as objects in contemporary society; what are they doing, asking, implying. Those questions became the basis for investigation.

Perplexing Endeavors

Each piece presents a range of didactic possibilities. How the work exists sculpturally as a 3-dimensional piece is layered with the emotional response posture, gaze, surface treatment, etc., suggests. How to marry the particular animal or figurative form with this myriad of possibilities is the challenge. The reward begins at that extraordinary moment of recognition within the clay, whether intended or something surprisingly different, but you see it and work with it to completion; then, give it to the world and begin again.

Meantime, art goes on all around you. Engage it!

I Threw It All Away: Dylan Shows His Scars

“The characteristics that I have pointed out in Dylan’s protest songs continue through the years in his other kinds of songs. Dylan allows no easy-listening bystanders: he draws a listener into a song, often by mean of pronouns and other bland-looking words that acquire meaning in performance.” ~Betsy Bowden, Performed Literature

One of the books I’ve been reading this past several weeks is Betsy Bowden’s Performed Literature while repeatedly absorbing Dylan’s latest Bootleg Series album (#10), Another Self Portrait. Bowden’s premise is that people who consider Dylan a great songwriter and lyricist/poet are missing the true greatness Dylan brought to this generation. Hence the title of the book, Performed Literature. It’s not just the words, but the way he delivers the words that impact listeners so profoundly.

This is not to suggest that the lyrics alone don’t have power. "Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall" is an incredible contribution to literature as well as music history. As has been repeated many times over a whole song could be written about each line in this seismic earth-shaker. But those who have been most attentive recognize something incredible happens each time he performs it and it is in the moment, the performance, that he breathes into the song new life, and sometimes new meanings.

What Bowden so forcefully explains is that the “how” of Dylan’s delivery is what makes the lyrics come so alive. And I fully concur. Yes, the Byrds and other artists translated Dylan’s lyrics for their various pop audiences, but that only served to draw attention to the original source. The lyrics they shared worked for the moment, but Dylan’s heartfelt interpretations of his own, and others', lyrics take these songs to another plane.

For me, what has continually grabbed me deepest is the rawness, the emotionally charged quality he so vividly conveys in the manner he delivers his lyrics in so many of his songs. Whether rage (Idiot Wind), contempt (Positively Fourth Street), longing (Where Are You Tonight) or tenderness (Sign on the Window), Dylan’s great skill is making an emotional connection to his listeners.

Here are three songs that resonate with nearly anyone who has been shattered by a meaningful relationship that has been broken. The last of these, which appears on disc one of Another Self Portrait, serves as a warning, flashing profound and poignant: “Don’t do what I did.”

Listening to this song the past few weeks brought others to mind, as this seems to be a recurring theme with Dylan. Most of the Time, the first cut on Oh Mercy, is delivered with that similar aching regret.

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around 
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground
I can follow the path, I can read the signs
Stay right with it when the road unwinds
I can handle whatever I stumble upon
I don’t even notice she’s gone
Most of the time

Tangled Up In Blues

When you listen to this song it’s the way he states it that gets you, “Most of the time.” It’s like Neil Young’s “how slow and slow and slow it goes to mend the tear that always shows.” The songwriter is trying to keep a stiff upper lip, project victory, confidence. But underneath it’s a wound that won’t heal.

It’s fascinating how he sings this song in such a low-key manner, not extravagant, playing down the pain so that it’s just a matter-of-fact matter. But when he says that last “most of the time” you know all too well the rest is just a put-on, and he’s not healed but hurting.

The second verse ends with this declaration:

I can survive, I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time

The third verse makes this claim at the end:

I can smile in the face of mankind
Don’t even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time

This sounds very personal to me because Dylan was a performer and though he is famously stoic on stage, he was still a performer and had to “smile in the face of mankind.

The final stanza goes all out:

I don’t cheat on myself, I don’t run and hide
Hide from the feelings that are buried inside
I don’t compromise and I don’t pretend
I don’t even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time 

Aside: Gene Lafond’s performance of this song last spring in Weber Hall excelled at conveying this same wounded anguish. Thank you, Geno, for putting so much of yourself into this great piece.

Another haunting song comes to mind here, from Bootleg #8: Tell Tale Signs... "Born In Time." This one again exemplifies the point Bowden makes. It’s relatively simple as far as the lyrics go, but the manner in which Dylan delivers these lines sears flesh, shatters bone and tears the heart.

The begins with a moment many of us have experienced at one time or another, the lonely night…  But the way he sings it so melds the emotion with the words.

Just when I thought you were gone
you came back
just when I was ready to receive ya
You were smooth, you were rough,
you were more than enough,
oh babe, why did I ever leave ya
or grieve ya?

Dylan failed someone he cared about. 

This leads us directly to "I Threw It All Away," which first appeared on Nashville Skyline (1969) and re-appears here on Another Self Portrait. It’s so basic. I once held her, we made promises, but…

I Threw It All Away

I once held her in my arms
She said that she would always stay
But I was cruel, I treated her like a fool
I threw it all away.

Once I had mountains in the palm of my hand
rivers of grandeur every day
I must have been mad, I never knew what I had
until I threw it all away…..

In the end the scribe offers this word of advice, which to his regret he learned the hard way:

If you find someone who gives you all of her love
take it to your heart, don’t let it stray
One thing for that's certain 
you will surely be a hurtin’ 
if you throw it all away.

Maybe the songs of this period appeared lyrically so simple that a lot of listeners missed how nuanced they were. It's a mistake we all can make at times.

Another Plug for Innovation Institute on North Texas Giving Day

Harrold Andresen (R) fixes both vehicles and broken dreams.

Today is North Texas Giving Day. The Communities Foundation of Texas is is encouraging donors to make a special contribution to their favorite non-profit organization. Since it was email from Innovation Institute that reminded me of this announcement, I decided to simply remind readers here that the training school for wheelchair bound people who want to learn mechanical skills is an amazing project.

What especially amazing to me is that the school was initiated a full ten years ago. Seems like only yesterday that Harrold Andresen, formerly of Duluth here, began converting 15 stalls of his 20 stall auto mechanic shop into a school. (Disclaimer: Harrold is my brother-in-law.) The ambitious project took years of planning and work, and the whole non-profit piece is no piece of cake either. But his vision ultimately became a reality and if you go to the Innovation Institute Facebook page, you will see an amazing array of photos showing guys working on cars and equipment, problem solving on matters such as how to lengthen a golf cart or ride-around lawn mower so that a wheelchair-bound person can roll onto it and drive it.

Here's the link to the Donor Bridge website if you wish to contribute to this life-changing program. I like how they describe what they do: Empowering people, regardless of their disabilities, by creating innovative mechanical devices that increase mobility, self-esteem, and independence.

Who doesn't want more independence?

For what it's worth, if you have a favorite charity -- and there are needs all around -- today might be a good day to write a check, or make a pledge, and give. Whether it's Life House here in Duluth, or one of the many other good causes wherever you are, this is your prompt to move from good intention to doing good.

On another topic: tonight is the Celebration of Clay art opening at the Duluth Art Institute. 5-7 p.m. Maybe I will see you on the scene? Have a great day.

Wordless Wednesday: 99 Bottles of Beer (More or Less)

Quiet Heart Music Celebrates Ten Years In Business

Yesterday on the radio I heard an interview with someone who made music for people with Alzheimers or in their declining years. The interviewee made some interesting statements about the healing power of music, but his approach was different from what I usually read in one particular way. He said that he was in the business of creating music that had no attachments to memories of earlier years. That is, it was all original with no connection to memories, though still designed to comfort.

Because of my longtime friendship with Yamaha Recording Artist Henry Wiens, I wasn’t sure how to take this. In  my 2007 interview with Henry I asked why music has such power to reach so deeply into peoples’ hearts. He replied:

Music is like beauty for the ears and mind. The answer to why people are moved by beauty is rooted in what it means to be human. For me, creating and listening to music is linked to expressing love for everything that is beautiful about life. As a listener, I respond to what I "read between the lines"; as a composer-performer, I try to express that love & beauty to others. Any power that music may have to touch others is rooted in the authenticity and depth of the artist's expression.

As people experience music throughout their lives, they build up associations with that music which reinforce each other. Hearing a familiar melody will bring past experiences to life. For example, hearing a song that you danced to when you were 18 and in love will probably elicit some of those good feelings even decades later. Hearing a song that was sung in church while you were held on your mother's lap may bring comfort the rest of your life.

Joan Baez

It may be that the person I heard on the radio is right in some instances, but I’m going to imagine that when we Baby Boomers are in nursing homes or hospice care we’re more likely to be transported to fond memories and beautiful landscapes when we hear "Bridge Over Troubled Water" or "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" than when we hear something unfamiliar. Maybe I’m wrong but I’m guessing that three decades from now our souls will continue to resonate with Bach, the Beatles and "Wind Beneath My Wings."

Ten years ago Henry started a business called Quiet Heart Music based on the widespread response to his CDs as a source of comfort. His primary customers were nursing homes, hospice and funeral homes that purchased personalized CDs, but he’s not averse to individuals purchasing his music. This week he gave his website a facelift and if you’re in need of comfort or a quiet background as you write or draw, I can attest that Henry’s music offers a soothing accompaniment to nearly any activity.

There 's another feature of this kind of "comfort music" that's worth noting. According to many sources the music is not only like a soul-balm for the dying or grieving, but for the caregiver as well. Sherri Snelling's post in this Alheimer's Association blog is titled Music as Therapy: A Five-Note Plan For Caregiver Calm. Snelling explains, "Music as therapy is not just for your loved one. We know caregivers encounter increased stress over caring for a loved one — in fact caregivers who reported their health was impacted by caring for a loved one cite stress as their No. 1 challenge." She goes on to note that our reaction to music is actually physiological in that listening to music releases the hormone melatonin which reduces aggression and depression and can help us sleep.

No wonder we feel so good when we're listening to the music. Let's dance!

Centerville All Stars

Chor Boogie: Ushering Color to the World

This is part of a wall I saw in San Francisco 3 years ago on Market Street.

Street art is a pretty exciting phenomenon in many respects. Some of it is quite spectacular. With the exception of Banksy, most of it is unassociated with any specific artist. It's just out there being shared with the world.

A couple weeks ago I had an email forwarded to me about a street artist named Chor Boogie. His work looked interesting, but became moreso when I noticed a certain similarity between the pattern on this elephant's trunk and some pictures I took of a wall in San Francisco in the Tenderloin District. A little digging and I found his website, Modern Hieroglyphics of Chor Boogie. Sure enough, he was a west coast guy and did some time in San Francisco.

He was born Jason Hailey, and first held a paint brush at age five, a nice early age to get acquainted with the medium. When you think "street artist" you don't immediately connect this person to the formal study of art history, but in Chor Boogie's case he states that his inspiration has come from Da Vinci, Michaelangelo and Rembrandt as much as Van Gogh, Dali and the moderns. He then went on to take this sensibility into his encounter with the street arts, learning enough from his mentors Phase2 and Vulcan that he has been able now to make a name for himself.

His resume includes doing work for the China Olympics among other things. In addition to many locations in the U.S., his commissioned murals include locations in Mexico, Dubai, Australia, Brazil and Canada. He's produced work for a variety of high profile people including Jay-Z and Rage Against The Machine, among others.

He appears to be a young man on the move. And it's apparent from the image (above right) that he's interested in sticking around awhile. I used to wear a gas mask like that for certain jobs when I painted apartments years ago. Those paint fumes can fry brain cells.

It was this picture of a Singapore elephant that confirmed for me the connection between the wall in San Francisco I'd taken pictures of and Chor Boogie. Note the pattern at the wide part of the elephant's trunk. Note the Escheresque manner in which the various patterns morph. Keep it going, Chor.  

To see more of Chor Boogie's work, visit www.chorboogie.com