Saturday, January 12, 2013

The Magic Flute: Act one

I was referred by Brenda Crabtree to an exhibition curated by Rosemarie Spahan. The exhibition will run in conjunction with the Vancouver Opera’s rendition of The Magic Flute written by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Rosemarie invited a few artists to watch, on DVD, a previous version of the opera done by the company. It had a heavy Aboriginal Aesthetic but apparently remained true to the original text. We were asked to create an artwork based on the Opera.

I originally intended to do a carving, but when I began workshopping ideas, I imagined colours.  I decided to create a triptych painted on wooden panels; each panel is 16”/16”.

magicflute01edit

This first panel is a representation of Sarastro as a Sun mask, the design around his head is his servant Monostatos. The reason I made Monostatos look like a rat is because of the rendition I viewed by the Vancouver Opera.

magicflute02edit

The second panel represents Tamino and Papageno; I saw them as on a similar journey or even two sides of the same coin.  They are both heroic and foolish in their own ways, this is why I made them a two headed figure.  Above their left hand is Papageno’s magic bells and above their right is Tomino’s magic flute.

magicflute03edit

The final panel in the triptych represents the queen of the night and her three lady helpers. The aesthetics of the queen is related to the Vancouver Opera’s previous version, though the Chilkat was my own choice.

This was a fun project to work on and it was my last project done at the ECUAD Mitchell Press Graduate Studios.  I’m going to miss working up there but I feel it was time to move on.

mitchell Press Mitchell Press Graduate Studios

Sunday, July 15, 2012

State of Grace

Prologue

He is a force of nature. Part human and part spirit, he has a foot in each world but he belongs to neither.

His mother was a human woman and his dad was the mighty Raven. At least that’s what his mother used to tell him. Every year on his birthday she would say “your father was no human man; on the day you were born he flew away.” And then she would show him the feathers, “he gave me sixteen feathers and told me to give you one on the day of your birthday till you turned sixteen.”

When he was nine he told his friends he was the son of the Raven. The next day when he walked into class his friends stood apart from him, from the other side of the room they stared at him, he stared back and said, “what?” His best friend spoke up,

“You’re a liar”

“No I’m not”

“My dad said your dad isn’t the Raven and that you’re lying”

“My dad is the Raven”

“No he’s not, your dad was a drunk and on the day you were born he got loaded and went down to the tracks and kissed a train”

It was a painful memory, he never mentioned who his father was to anyone again, nor did he believe his mother. For the next seven years on his birthday she would tell him the same story and give him a feather. On his sixteenth when she was about to give him the last of the feathers he said to her,

“So what now?”

She gave him the last feather and twenty dollars and whispered to him,

“I don’t know”.

He left his house and laughed, “Is this all I am” he thought. In his left hand he held sixteen feathers, in his right twenty dollars. He tucked away the feathers and replaced his twenty dollars with a pack of smokes and a bottle of whiskey.

Sitting in the middle of the tracks, smoking cigarettes, and drinking whiskey, he waited for the one a.m. freight from the pulp mill. At twelve fifty six he felt the ground start to shake, “its early” he thought and stood up.

Holding eight feathers in one hand and eight in the other he opened his eyes and stared at the train barreling towards him. A second before impact the light from the train nearly blinded him and he shut his eyes tightly.

When he opened them he was standing on the tracks and the train was barreling through him.

He is no longer a child, he is a man, he is a transforming man and he has his feet in many worlds but he belongs to none.

His arms become wings and he flies away.

Savior

She screams in pain as she pushes them out of her womb, two infants joined at the torso, the doctor gently holds them in her hands. The male twin cries the female twin does not, looking at the doctor the mother says, “Are they O.K.?”

“They’re twins”. So small and delicate and covered in birthing fluids they are beautiful.

“They’re conjoined twins” the doctor says, the mother leans forward to look and them and they both rear their heads to look back at her.

Moments later their small delicate little hearts stop beating.

Their little body is buried in a family grave and the mother grieves.

But the universe is sometimes unjust and their spirits remained in the hospital, their immortal souls tied together. At first they did not have the capacity to understand what they were but as the years passed they could see the world change around them. The real world comes and goes and spirits arrive and quickly move on but there they remained, until he found them.

The transforming man stood above them, like a light in the dark.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you”

He picked them up and held them in his hands.

“I’m going to take you home; I know you’ve never been there before but it is where you belong.”

It’s a strange thing to see a grown man kneeling on the floor of a hospital cradling nothing and talking to thin air, but most people can’t see the world around them. Of course to the twins he didn’t look like a man, they’ve seen men. He was part bird and part man and he cradled them in his wings.

The years of being alone on the hospital floor had made the twins bitter, they had seen other spirits ascend and never had they, so they did not believe the transforming man.

“It’s time to go” he said as he dropped them to the floor, spread his wings and grabbed them by the hair with his clawed feet.

“This won’t take long cherished ones” he said to them. His mighty wings flapped and the three began their journey to one of many heavenly worlds.

As they entered the void the male twin looked up at the transforming man and said,

“You’re a liar”

It was less than a second, less than a moment, but in that sliver of time the transforming man felt all too human. Taken aback by his deeply buried childhood pain he released his grip, but for a second, and the twins were lost.

The fall of man

The twins fall, their life in a state of purgatory which some say is a fate worse than death. They live on the edge of so many worlds with their feet in none. They can feel so many spirits around them, traveling like bolts of lightning from one world to the next. The male twin is enraged, he is starving and just beyond his fingertips is the sustenance he needs to survive. His sister who has only love for her brother feels his pain and weeps not for herself but for him.

She knows he needs strength to find his way home so she decides to allow her brother to absorb her spirit into his.

He doesn’t hesitate, he feeds on his sisters’ spirit and grows strong, strong enough to catch a bolt of lightning.

Still he falls but now alone his appetite becomes insatiable.

He becomes still, forcing himself into a near comatose state, with his eyes wide open he waits for time to slow and the spirits that once traveled past him like bolts of lightning now travel like the smoke from a cigarette. He reaches out and grabs one, it is old and frail, and with the veracity of a starving wolf he consumes it.

He has become a cannibal, he no longer wants to ascend to a higher plane, he only wants to fill his belly with the spirits of men and fauna.

His sister who sacrificed herself to save her brother stands beside him; she is unable to stop him and can only look on in horror.

She is no longer a character in this play she is now only a witness.

Punishment of the Grave

In this great and vast universe there is a balance, spirits travel between worlds never filling one world with so many spirits that it becomes unlivable or taking away so many that it becomes lonely. When a spirit leaves one world it is expected in the next and when those spirits start to disappear it creates an imbalance.

Charged to find the imbalance in the universe is the transforming man. Finding a needle in a haystack would be easy compared to finding an anomaly in an unending universe. He searches for years, guilt ridden because of what happened to the twins he has not lived as a man since. It was quite by chance that while riding a blue, green and yellow bolt of lightning, to a world without the colour red, he feels a hand grab him by the throat.

“You!” he screams as he looks to see who had grabbed him.

“Yes me, Savior”, says the male twin who has become a horror, deformed by his greed.

“So what now Savior, you punish me?”

“No, my father will” and with that a raven appears. The male twin looks into the Ravens eyes and confesses, “I took the gift my sister gave me and created an imbalance in the universe.”

From deep down in his gut a lump appears and the Raven begins to choke, convulsing and shaking until finally he expels a small wooden box from his mouth. The Raven motions to the box and then to the male twin, but before the male twin can move the transforming man speaks up,

“Wait, it was my weakness that allowed him to fall into darkness. I will pay penance for any sins committed by him.”

And finally the Raven speaks, “but you are my son.”

“I know father.”

On a small island forgotten by the world there is a tree, and in that tree is a box. That box is the final resting place of the transforming man, but no longer transforming he is just a man, condemned to eternity in a state of neither life nor death.

But he is not alone; on either side of the box are two spirits, one male and one female.

They have made a vow to never leave their Savior.

The Raven, saddened by the events of this story, transforms himself and spends a hundred years traveling as a leaf on the north wind.

 

Story: Luke Parnell 2012

Image: Fall of Man, by Luke Parnell 2012

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

nang sdang a painting by Robert Davidson















Robert Davidson is testing the boundaries of Haida art as he is “provoked by the inventiveness of the earlier masters, while building dialectically and actively on his experience of the present” (Karen Duffek).

There is an almost scientific quality to the work in the exhibition, "The Abstract Edge". Some of the art works explore single elements of Haida art and examine it from the inside out. The other pieces in the exhibition, which seem to build on the single element pieces, use Haida myths and legends to create a new visual language within the well-traveled territory of Haida art.

For example the acrylic painting “nang sdang” looks like an exploration of form. In fact, the name comes from the concept of sdang or “two”. Duffek relates this painting to “the Chief’s name nan sdins (anglicised as Ninstints), meaning a chief who was equal to two: literally, ‘one that is two.’“. The idea or at least the interpretation of this work is that there is more than one way of looking at something and that one thing can have two meanings. For example, this painting has value as a Western art object, as it is acrylic on canvas, painted by a master artist and has a clear provenance. From a Haida point of view, it honours a Haida name, which means a lot in all NWC cultures, in which names are passed down from one generation to the next and in doing so they gain prestige.

Work cited

Davidson, Robert, Karen Duffek, and Robert Houle. Robert Davidson : the Abstract Edge. ed. Karen Duffek. Vancouver: Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia in association with the National Gallery of Canada. 2004. Print.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Epistemological Conundrum p.2

The totem Epistemological Conundrum is an artwork about ways of learning, what we learn and why we learn.

The three figures in the middle of the totempole are aboriginal students. Surrounding them are two eagles, it signifies the students relationship with western education, both historically and contemporary.

One eagle is upside down, on this totempole it is meant to embarrass or humiliate the person or persons whom the figure represents. I mirrored the inverted figure in order to oppose the negative impact of western education. The students balance between the two trying to take what they need, leaving the rest behind, not forgeting, but not dragging it along either.

In non-native interpretations of totempoles the figure on top of the pole is the most important. In actual reality the figure on the bottom of the totempole is the most important (it is the easiest seen). On a nine foot totempole everything is easily seen, so there is less of a hiearchy amongst figures.

I am questioning what I should dwell on, the injustice of our educational history in this country or the opportunities that education now gives us. It's a complicated problem and I haven't yet decided for myself.

Western education was used as a tool for assimilation, is it still?

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Epistemological Conundrum


I am in the middle of a two year graduate program at ECUAD, the programs includes a 12 credit summer internship. For my summer internship, I am teaching a directed studies class in the aboriginal gathering place (AGP).



The AGP is attached the the north campus of ECUAD and is a place for Aboriginal students find a sense of community on campus. This project was my idea, though it could not have happened without the work of the aboriginal coordinator Brenda Crabtree. I have three students on this project;


William,



Mark



and James.



The only parameters I had for this project was that it had to fit it the AGP and it had to have something to do with education. Fitting it into the AGP was easy enough, I just made the pole 9'.



It took me a while to come up with an idea, mostly because I have mixed feelings about the history of aboriginal peoples education in Canada. Never the less I have an idea that satisfies both my scepticism and enthusiasm, its called Epistemological Conundrum and its an interior house post.


Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Under One Beat

In april I was approached by the Vancouver childrens Festival to create an interactive sculpture/installation. I had no idea what I would do but I accepted anyway.

At the time I was busy finishing the first year of the Masters of applied arts program at ECUAD. Because of that I didn't even think about the project righht away. A few weeks later on a trip to the Freida Diesing school of Northwest Coast art (I helped fascilitate a drummaking workshop and did a talk about my practice), I came up with an idea.

in my moleskine journal I drew a rough sketch.

Three wooden box drums on a metal base, the drums would face in towards each other and on the outside of each drum would be an archived image of an aboriginal in Vancouver over the last 125 years(the projects funding came from the Vancouver 125 fund).

My plan was to build the box drums myself and commission out the base to a metal worker. Unfortunately I had issues with the metal base and decided a wooden base would be more than sufficiant.

I had another project starting in the middle of May, so I needed a helper who was able to do some light labour work and have some scanning/photo skills. Perfectly suited to the task was my classmate and Newcastle supporter Adam Stenhouse. I managed to get the artwork done 2 days before my deadline (not bad).

Under One Beat, is based on the idea of one drum, in a traditional Nisga'a dance group the idea is to get all the drums to sound like one drum, its about unity. The archived images add another element, I think of the installation as honouring the past.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Phantom Limbs

 ph5 Phantom Limbs is completed. Originally called “52”, it evolved into Phantom Limbs.  My original intention was to carve the small wooden figures over a two year period.  It is a massive project and I thought I could carve each one between other projects.  In the spring of 2010 I was asked to be in the original “pastnow” exhibition with Meryl McMaster, the show was in the graduate gallery of the Ontario College of Art and Design University ( The University of Imagination).  While we were taking down the exhibition I was discussing future projects with Lisa Myers and Suzanne Morrissette.  I mentioned my idea for “52” and they got excited, they said when I complete it, they would like to curate it into a show.  I thought, “ but I don’t even know when its going to be finished.

ph2 A month later Lisa came to me and said pastnow would probably be moving to the Maclaren Art Centre in November and they wanted “Phantom Limbs” (formally 52) for the show.  So instead of carving each figure over a multi year period, I carved all 48 in a six month period, amongst other projects, most notably, Graduate school at Emily Carr University of Art and Design (ECU).

ph1 A long time ago grave robbers (anthropologists, ethnographers, etc.) descended upon Haida Gwaii, they took over 460 ancestor remains. The remains ended up in museums and private collections all over the world. The purpose of the Haida repatriation project is to return remains and artworks back to the Haida people.

ph3 When a person loses a body part they describe a phenomenon where they can still feel the limb. Their feet get cold; their hands are tingly; they can feel the wind on their fingertips.  When I found out about the Haida repatriation project, I hadn’t even realised our ancestors were being kept in museums and private collections. Phantom Limbs depicts the transition between the ancestors being kept in museums and  being buried in Bentwood boxes on Haida Gwaii.

ph4