Monday, November 20, 2023

Place, plants, people: Milkweed Residency

Yes, of course I could harvest Ohio milkweed, and I have and do (this year, it has decided to have its way in my yard/border and how can I say anything? I put it there, there's no stopping it). But each fall brings my favorite time of year: Milkweed Residency! I get to commune with my favorite plants, people, and places.
Tim and Pati live here (and work in the studio building to the left) in the house that he built and added onto over the years. Ever since I visited the place in 2017, it has been one of my very favorite homes/studios, and I have been to very many homes and studios throughout my life. They host me every time and Pati had the idea last year to expand the residency to include a student, to try and share all that milkweed has to teach. I had resisted at the time, after being exhausted by launching my own hanji retreats and wanting space away from students.
But this year I had two students in my annual retreat that I thought would really get a lot out the experience. Veronica was curious about milkweed for papermaking as it's in her backyard, too, and Esther was motivated to learn more about toolmaking after our week together. I asked Pati if they could handle TWO, as V&E are kind of a package deal. They are in their final year of their Madison MFA program and Pati got her MFA in printmaking in Madison years ago, so she and Tim had lived there and now their kids are also there/in the area. Turned out to be an ideal fit!
It was going to be a bit late (in Nov instead of Oct) and abbreviated for my students because of a variety of scheduling challenges, but there was still plenty of milkweed hanging around. Can you see Pati in this picture? She's there.
Veronica took this and the next three pics, which I love so much. Also, SO much easier to document when you have a pro photographer in the group!
Pati and I used the be the only one to harvest in David's field, though last year Jill was able to join us. I was very sad to miss her this time around but she got sick and needed to stay home.
We had plenty of time harvesting and I probably could have let them do less but striking out to find just the right ones in the field is its own deep and solitary pleasure. Here, we've already trimmed away exploded pods and are organizing the stalks to bundle and transport back.
I still have plenty of coma (the fluff) back home from past harvests, and am not interested in separating silks from seeds from pods from other bits, but figured V&E might want to see the process, so we had a bit of trimming and sorting to do before we could shove the pods into multiple buckets to take home.
Every day, Tim started cozy fires, the best part of being in the woods in chilly weather. Plus I got to hear more stories about the system and learn more about how it works. I realized that someday, if we ever get far enough in the process, we should use the ash (which is not even that much, from my understanding of how efficiently the system works) to cook fiber. For now, the better use of the fire was to roast tomatoes!
I had urged my students to bring gifts of the local (to Madison) and edible kinds, so every morning Veronica took care of the pour over for the coffee she brought.
And Pati made exquisite meals for us every single day, which are always so delicious and heartwarming. The only problem was now that we had five at meals, there were so many more stories to share and food to talk about, so each meal would extend for a long time until we were up past midnight by their final night.
Pati and Tim kindly laid out a bunch of his moulds downstairs in the studio, and it was great to see such a big range of laid, wove, dimension, and time.
I wanted them to see Tim's loom, too, but I think that would require more time to really understand. I forget that on first glance, the loom (to the left) does not make sense to people who don't know what it's supposed to do. Here we're looking at Tim's straightened wires.
While milkweed was steaming or whatnot, we tried to make time to look at artwork. This was just a one-on-one with Esther but I was very glad to see her using the jiseung techniques she learned in July. We had talked about this at least seven years ago and she had never gotten a chance to work with me until this year. Her early attempts were like many early attempts when you don't have a teacher to guide you. But like many gifted past students, once we were in person, everything clicked for her and she was off to the races. There are secrets (literally, written secrets) woven into the basket-in-progress.
I really, really wanted them to see Pati's artwork. But given the time, it was only ever going to be a sliver of her oeuvre. This was a blank wall when we arrived, and then she very kindly hung a bunch of her prints to share, which became a backdrop to our stripping bast fiber work.
The books, she showed us in the house. This one was GIANT, and like so much of her work, incredibly ambitious, layered, impeccable. I'm still stuck on trying to figure out how to get a book structure engineered now at home, and I run away from it for days on end after only handling it for half an hour at a time. Being able to map this one out (there are 18 books bound into this one, and they all have to line up with each other on every single spread—right now they haven't been opened yet). I loved seeing her work in more of a context from the early grad school books through the ones I've seen, to this giant one. The quality of her work even as a grad student was so high; I have tried as much as possible to sell/give away/hide/throw away my work from then but that's probably a waste of shame.
Because I didn't want to make a total mess inside of their studios, we worked on Pati's balcony and steamed the stalks out there with outdoor outlets and burners.
Unsurprisingly, V&E very much enjoyed separating seeds and coma and pods and other non-coma stuff. At one point, we got locked out, but V got the latch up before I started yelling over to the house.
They worked until it was too dark to stay outside. I love how joyful they are up there, while Tim is hard at work downstairs.
There is SO much more I could have shared but will leave it between us for now. The residency expansion was a huge success, and we were sad to see them go. After they left, I thought, is this how parents feel when their kids leave? And then a parent friend told me, no, because once they leave, you start to worry again. What I felt was, okay, I think that went well, time to nap!! And as always, I was so grateful to Pati and Tim for letting me feel so much at home in their home, and being just as generous and welcoming to people who were up until a few days earlier, strangers.
Final pic by Veronica!

Monday, October 09, 2023

80s to 40s in a week

I've felt buffeted by the weather, walking through fall leaves covering the sidewalks on a sunny day when the highs were in the 80s, and now under the covers with the heat on during nights in the 40s. The rain patterns have been the most confusing, I think, in their sudden and torrential nature. I have a LOT going on but nothing flashy to show. Here is the process of transcribing the first paragraph of a mother's eulogy to her baby girl.
sliced
opened
crumpled
twisted
hiccups in spinning because I cut too close to the edges
spun, saving all breaks
connected

I'm seeing how important it is to do things that connect me to the world, remind me I am part of it: being outside in the woods, cooking, gardening, being with friends, and of course, making. I feel increasingly unmoored from what used to be important to me and it's a big effort not to trash it entirely (but I can't, it would look so 'unprofessional' and 'irresponsible'). For now, I try to tie myself into being, repairing each break as I go.

Thursday, September 07, 2023

Summer roundup

I didn't have a lot of recovery time after the last hanji retreat and dove right into a couple of private studio tours. One was for conservators and fellows and interns from the Cleveland Museum of Art, which was fun. It was so helpful to have Taiwanese colleagues to translate a few things that I had been curious about. The funniest was that a gift from a student was a print that contained a curse word.
I also had a lot of bark to process into lace and grids for future projects. These are going to lay around for a while as I'm too scattered to focus on them.
This was round one of two marathon print sessions I had to do for one part of a large edition due end of year. It has been months in the making and a very difficult process because it's a collaboration where my collaborator is very inaccessible so I'm just doing what I can. I designed something that I thought would be easier to execute but is actually the opposite.
Then I had to zip over to D.C. for a gig. I know, I had promised myself no out-of-town work this year but the exception was made for several reasons. One: my collaborator invited me. Two: I needed major dental work. In between transporting everything for a papermaking demo and panicked formation aid making in the hotel bathroom, I visited the National Museum of Asian Art. There was a cremated Korean guy in that gorgeous stone box once upon a time, among other things.
This pic is more for the tag than the objects, because it confirms (in a very diplomatic way) that the best Korean objects are in Japan. And I'll probably never get to see them.
I was stunned by this sixth-century cosmic Buddha in the Chinese galleries. Front and back are like this.
It was classic August D.C. weather, hot and humid, barely making it from one building to another while passing through gorgeous gardens.
The National Museum of the American Indian was very moving and powerful in its main exhibits, which were mostly educational. The objects were more on the outer periphery of the circular floors. These stories on bone are my favorite, imagine making and handling! I also ate a lot and hydrated a lot here, as it was the closest museum to my hotel.
I had only seen Geo Soctomah Neptune's work on screens so it was wonderful to see it in person (albeit behind glass) at the Renwick. Their birds! Their birds.
I wish I had had the time and energy to have been able to research the bark cloth collection at the National Museum of Natural History but still enjoyed this Fijian masi (1838–42), whose fringe of bark I especially love.
From the Kiribati Islands in Micronesia, more stunning textiles (and spotted porcupine fish helmet and shark teeth/wood sword), the armor woven from coconut fiber and hair.
I was amazed to be allowed to do this papermaking demo and talk inside of a library (look at how close the book are!!) and glad to have been able to share with a large audience, mostly for UCLA Cal Rare Book School. \
Did I take the bus first thing in the morning on this day to look for a more appropriately-sized vat because I had given my friend Frank the wrong specs on a concrete mixing tray? Of course! Did I find a kitty litter bin that was perfect at a hardware store after going to three of their sections, all with separate entrances, after the sales guy told me most people buy it to soak their feet? Yes. And did I give away the gloriously large vat that Frank got for me to Kelsey so she could have her children play in it with water and sand and also use it to garden? So happily. Thank goodness for them, for helping me in what to them were simple ways but to me so necessary and so generous. Also to Minah for coming to the event and helping me clean up, get everything to the hotel, and then find a place for a quick dinner.
One of my other private studio tours was for my cousin and her daughter, and during lunch, the latter showed me her crocheting projects. Even though she is now a junior in college on the east coast, I realized I may have found another potential vessel for jiseung learning. She came over after my D.C. adventure and incredibly learned the steps from cutting down a sheet, cording, twining, and finishing a gourd in four hours! I felt like I was watching myself. I've never had a student who so immediately, with no extra props or dancing on my part or re-explaining or handouts, had it click in her head and hands what to do. She was such a natural and at once point said, "This feels so familiar." She is tracked for a wholly different career but even if this is a hobby in the evenings or she never comes back for more, I felt so fulfilled.
Esther from the hanji retreat shared this image of how she's been busy making cords, which is also very satisfying, as this is the foundation of the work. As my teacher long ago said, fully one third of jiseung is making cords. She does it while watching TV, exactly the way I developed a terrible TV habit 14 years ago in Seoul making hundreds of cords.
The much, much less fun part of summer is dealing with how the HVAC system (mini splits) have been failing since construction (which is wild, since it has only been less than three years since the building was gut rehabbed). Everyone blames someone else. The architect drew the condensation lines to be pumped UP in the wall to the roof to drain into the roof drains. The HVAC installers chose a water pump that clearly cannot keep up with the condensation, so the drain tray overflows and spills both outside and inside the wall. So the brand new wall is being degraded on both sides (the vat on the window ledge is weighted so it can stay and catch the dripping water from the outside).
Outside drips, not great. But dripping INTO the wall, really bad. Yesterday I smelled mold and touched the underside of this window frame only for my entire finger to go through what felt like only paint. No more drywall, it's gone. General contractor says the entire outer masonry should have been pointed before more walls went up. No one is taking responsibility (and of course, the city approved all of the drawings and final construction), just a bunch of men finding other people and companies to blame. Meanwhile, I am the one living/working with it. I try not to get too worked up about it but for sure have lost sleep over the years. Oh, and I had masons point my house and was horrified by their poor work and high costs and mansplaining nonsense. Why don't I hang out my window and throw money out of it? Probably would get similar results.
Back to the collaboration print, did you know I was making two different types of paper (hanji and European style) for it? Yet another brainiac move, a good way to torture myself since I'm still getting to know my beater and made some pretty embarrassing sheets, three batches, before I gave up and said, I just have to make the edition work with what I have.
But I love my Tim Moore mould. Because it's so light, I am really averse to going back to my heavier British and German moulds.
Also wanted to test new "felts" for my paper. Over 16 years ago, I would travel to residencies all over to make paper, including in Mexico, where I cut up an old dress to use as interleaving between sheets. It worked great but left the imprint of the fabric. Which at the time I must have been taught was less desirable. Now I actually love the imprint of weaving on paper, and appreciated Hannah O'Hare Bennett's article in Hand Papermaking's issue on shop talk, because she has swapped out all of her synthetic interfacing for bed sheets. I'm excited to make a new new batch of paper and see how it goes. It felt particularly perfect that I had no offcuts, both sheets I used tore down perfectly to two different sizes.
I divorced a duck from a pot and dyed both and got some unexpected results! The divorce went great.

And when I'm in the studio trying not to feel upset about men being stupid about mistakes they've made but will NEVER admit to, I twine tiny bits of bark thread. I have too many projects going on and am completely scattered. I feel terrible guilt about the things I'm not "getting done." But also am riding the waves of climate instability, migraines, chronic pain + physical therapy, while learning not to overwork myself so much. Reaching out for help has been key. [Sorry, too tired and screen timed out for links, but they are easy to find!]

Monday, August 07, 2023

Second annual summer hanji retreat

In the last week of July, we did it again! A wonderful week-long hanji retreat. This time, for the biggest group I would want to accommodate in the space, which is four. Here's Jaz making sheets.
The great thing about this group is that they all have varying degrees of expertise in papermaking, and all have the experience of doing research abroad or have plans in motion to be in the field in Asia. Jim has the most, an expert in Himalayan manuscripts (who did important early work on Tibetan paper and books before I was even a papermaker) when not in Indiana as a Lilly Library conservator. His most recent trip was in Vietnam, which is also Veronica's area of heritage and research. And Jaz will be off to Thailand soon while Esther spent time in Korea and will return end of year. This is the kind of group I can share moldy screens with because they are interested in tools and old things because of how we can read them for information.
You can see me asking Veronica if she needs more of a lift to beat. The table is already risen but for the shorter ones of us, we can stand on various constructions of scrap wood and carpet squares to get just the right height.
We started cord making on Day 2 so that they would have enough time to get them done but I should have started twining earlier. Timing was tricky with a larger group that got along so well because I hated to break up conversations.
I showed them both modified cord making (here),
and working on the floor. That seemed to work better for some.
I had asked Jim ahead of time to bring lokta papers from Nepal because I knew the stash would be good. Another distraction, shopping!
He also brought roots of the papermaking plants, and this amazing manuscript that he had commissioned by an expert in the family that over the generations has served the Dalai Lama.
We didn't get as many days for sheetforming as I had planned but everyone had time to work at the vat supervised and then left alone to sort it out (the best way to learn).

I didn't get as many pictures as I wanted because, well, I was teaching, but I was so grateful to host this particular group, and that I had Michelle available to assist all week because she did an incredible job (like this burdock pile that she sorted for me by hand, a partial harvest after two years of growing. There's more on the tree lawn but I think this should be enough for now). This is a very underwhelming recap but suffice it to say, I felt blessed to have such a great group and to be reminded why I work so hard to create spaces like this. Next full-week retreat is July 2024, but I will offer shorter retreats in fall and spring (for sure to coincide with April 8's full solar eclipse in Cleveland next year!).

My pictures from the week

Jim Canary

Jaz Graf

Veronica Pham

Esther Cho