Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Behind Closed Doors-The Art of Hans Bellmer

I sort of have this odd fascination with old, cast-off abandoned things; like moldy dog-earred books, old photos and broken dolls. I have done quite a few works with bits and pieces of old busted dollies and have even taught an assemblage class about Creepy Doll shrines. 

There's a lot that could be said about Dolls and what they symbolize and in my class we touch a bit on some of those things specifically Freud's idea about the uncanny. But recently, Hans Bellmer, a German artist from the 1930s has been brought to my attention. To say Bellmer's work is disturbing, would be a bit of an understatement. (And if you are unfamiliar with his work, please keep this in mind if you look further into this artist.)  His work was and remains quite controversial. His doll's with their uncanny, fragmented and provocative poses are as extremely shocking now as they were in the 1930's. 

At the recommendation of my artist teacher, I have been reading Therese Lichtenstein's book Behind Closed Doors: The Art of Hans Bellmer. I am focused specifically the chapter: Return to the Enchanted Garden, which has some incredibly powerful insights. Of which is this quote that I want to leave with you. In my mind it links back to some of the work that we were doing in the Creepy Doll Shrine class at Art-Is-You. Take from it what you will...

"At the same time that Walter Benjamin was writing about the loss of the aura and the rise of fascism, Hans Bellmer was engaged in creating and photographing his curious doll-like sculptures, which were designed to evoke a sense of nostalgia. But what kind of nostalgia? Bellmer's return to and obsession with adolescence may be in part understood as a necessary regression into the past, a working through of psychic processes in a dialectic of transformation. By depicting adolescence as ruined, the photographs acknowledge both the desire to return to the past and the impossibility of doing so. The desire to recapture letting go of that childhood. It is as though Bellmer, while searching for what he had lost, was also looking for a solution to the problem. Although his works are mediated by memories of childhood, they do not recapture an idealized past but one that exists as ruin. His doll photographs are not transcendent images. They do not represent childhood as an illusory paradise lost but as a paradise never obtained. They depict the ungratified longing of youth, denying utopian impulses usually associated with memories or thoughts of the period of like and revealing it instead as a time of sorrow and struggle. This Bellmer's images of abuse and deprivation shift between a desire to preserve the past and a desire to destroy it by representing ruin." (Lichtenstein, 152)






Friday, October 19, 2012

Hauntings







Via Webster's

Hauntings: to visit habitually or appear to frequently as a spirit or ghost: to haunt a house; to haunt a person, to recur persistently to the consciousness of; remain with: for example: Memories of love haunted him. to visit frequently; go to often: for example: He haunted the galleries and bars that the artists went to. to disturb or distress; cause to have anxiety; trouble; worry: for example: His youthful escapades came back to haunt him. to reappear continually as a spirit or ghost. to visit habitually or regularly. to remain persistently; loiter; stay; linger. 

Origin: 1200- 50; Middle English haunten  < Old French hanter  to frequent,probably < Old Norse heimta  to lead home, derivative of heim homewards; see home.



Sunday, October 14, 2012

Vanishing Vermont: Wells Lamson Quarry



Things a been a bit of a whirlwind for me the last two weeks. So I apologize for not getting a post up last week. I was teaching at Art-Is-You, in Stamford CT. Which was an amazing adventure of its own. Don't worry, I am going to share photos and insights from that event in the next few days.

But right now, I want to focus on a my day today. On a tip from a friend and fellow artist, I drove down to East Barre (right on the Websterville boarder) to visit the abandoned Wells Lamson Quarry. Barre's history is rich with stories of immigrants workers and industrialization. New England quarries are know for their consistent quality and significant deposits of raw materials. These photos I am sharing with you are just the beginning of the shots that I took today. This is the location of the oldest Granite Quarry in the US. crumble and waste away. I was completely taken in by the beauty of the site. The thing that strikes me the most about this location is how changed the landscape now is because of human interaction. I don't know all the details, but my understanding is that there are organizations out there that are trying to conserve the land and keep alive the historical importance of this place.


Look around and you will see that our natural world has be transformed by industry. Where industry has been, there seems to be significant marks upon the land. In this case, Nature is trying to take back what belongs to her. Today was a very fruitful day and inspiring too. I will continue to edit my photos and post them. Hopefully I will learn a bit more about Barre's granite history and share with you those important nuggets as well.



This place was a space of labor and livelihood for many men for over 100 years. I am sure if the rocks could talk they would have amazing stories to tell. Up on the hill, in the light drizzle, on a Sunday afternoon, there was something magical, yet uncanny there. The birds where chirping, flying in and out of the trees and I could swear in the silences I could hear the faint echoes of men working down in the depths of those pits: Machinery buzzing and clanking away.  







 

Thank you so much for visiting my blog. 
Please remember that I retain the rights to all original photography posted. While I am honored and flattered that you
might enjoy the work enough to want to use or repost other places, please do not do so with out permission. All photos copyright L Reynolds 2012
Thanks! Lorraine



Monday, September 24, 2012

Vanishing Vermont: Middletown Springs

I am still sorting through all the photos I took about two weeks ago when I was out and about in Rutland County and Granville, NY. As long as your are interested, I will keep sharing my pictures of timeworn beauty.  I think I may have taken almost 600 photos that weekend. That's lots of editing. I'm going to keep chiseling out time to go through them all, location by location.  

This little installment is represents some shots that I took on our way from Middleton Springs to Wallingford. I really like taking t back roads, because you get to see all sorts of wonderful sites. I feel very lucky we had such a beautiful day to go out and explore. 


We stopped at the Mineral Springs Park to check out the Head Springs monument. At one point in the 1850s and 1860s curing waters of newly discovered mineral springs prompting the development of huge hotels and resorts in some of the most remote Vermont locations. Middletown Spring is one such village. The old hotel that sat along the bank of the Poultney River is gone, but the Historical Society has created a sweet little park to mark the location of the Old head spring. You can actually collect water there, although I don't know if what healing effects you might feel.

While we didn't get to see ruins of an old hotel, we did catch some wonderful visions of decay and abandonment on our trek to East to Wallingford. The goldrod was in full bloom lending color to the fields around us. Although the leaves are turning now, they were lush and green only two weeks ago. 

I hope you enjoy this little part on the journey. Until next time....

 



Tuesday, September 18, 2012

New Work: Harvest Home




I am so excited to announce that my new book assemblage: Harvest Home will be featured in a new books arts show at the Chandler Art Center in Randolph, VT called Turning Leaves.

I have been playing with some ideas of how to marry some of the new techniques I have been using with my old assemblage process. The outcome is this new book sculpture: Harvest Home. Influenced by the research I have been doing with old houses and the stories abandoned homesteads carry with them. This piece incorporates 7 found photographs given to me by a local historian of a family that resided in Williston, VT in the late 19th/early 20th century.

The show opens on Sunday with a reception and artist talk.


Turning Leaves: New Directions in Book Arts
Chandler Gallery, Randolph, VT
23 September – 10 November 2012
Reception with Artists’ Talk 4 – 6:30 PM 



















































I will also be showing Hope Blossoms: which is another mixed media book assemblage. This piece recently took 2nd place in the Juried show Books Unbound vol. 2 at the Artistree Gallery in Woodstock, VT.







Saturday, September 15, 2012

Spectral Evidence



Part of the research I am doing in regards to my recent photographic work has been reading up on apparitional experience, ghosts, hauntings and the like. Apparitional experience is, to quote Wikipedia, "an anomalous, quasi-perceptual experience. It is characterized by the apparent perception of either a living being or an inanimate object without there being any material stimulus for such a perception." It is the term that the academic and scientist community sometimes use to describe ghosts or hauntings. 

I'm trying to wrap my head around this concept and to understand what actually prompts the "quasi-perceptual experience."  Where does this sensation or feeling about place or a space that it is inhabited by unexplained entities; things that are not of this world, come from?

I have a strong sense of what the generative force is and I have been jotting down summaries and notes from my reading materials so at some point can pull it all together in some cohesive manner.

These are some of my notes from one of the first texts I read, appropriately entitled: Spectral Evidence. 

In his book, Spectral Evidence: The Photography of Trauma, Ulrich Baer explores the relationship between the experience of trauma and the photographic image. Baer draws a connection between those moments captured mechanically in photographs and those experienced by the individual through trauma. He uses the Holocaust as a specific example of how extremely difficult and limited it is to represent such monumental trauma. Baer suggests that the photographs become more of a tool of witnessing than that of “viewing”. What resonates for me is Baer’s connection to Roland Barthes, which implies for the viewer there is a response that is prompted by the ghostly afterlife of every photograph's subject.


L Reynolds copyright 2012
Chapter 2- 
To give memory place

“The aura of the photographed landscape, the impression of proximity, familiarity and relevance in a possibility quite distant scene seems to trip into memory we did not know existed, a counterpart in ourselves we may have felt but did not know.” (79)

“Conceptually and visually, we are subjected to something we recognize as crucially important, though in the end it eludes us.” (79)
L Reynolds copyright 2011
“The tradition of landscape art likewise…imbuing a scene with auratic significance…without… linking this sense of familiarity to any remembered past “ (79)

“framed emptiness” (81)

“Second generations inherit from their predecessors not something that has been learned but something that remains a loss.” (84)

“The medium of photography always raises the question of the relationship between seeing and knowing.” (87)

Quoting Walter Benjamin: “optical unconscious”

From Conclusion:
“…some events attain full meaning only in retrospect or to use the Freudian term, nachtraglich, or belatedly, and how this belated registration may facilitate or block remembering or forgetting.” (181)

“Every photograph is addressed to a beyond that remains undefined.” (181)
L Reynolds copyright 2011

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Vanishing Vermont: Wallingford


We happened on this place a few weeks ago on our way to Manchester. Completely gutted on the inside, the grounds are totally overgrown, looks like someone started restoring it as a project and then gave up.
Form the looks of it, I'd guess it was a mercantile or country store. The sign above the door dates it to 1835. There's several layers of siding that has been pulled away. I'm hoping that whomever ultimately restores this place will find a way to keep the pre-war billboard on the north side of the building.








 

  
Thank you so much for visiting my blog. 
Please remember that I retain the rights to all original photography posted. While I am honored and flattered that you
might enjoy the work enough to want to use or repost other places, please do not do so with out permission. All photos copyright L Reynolds 2012
Thanks! Lorraine