Artmaking from the gut

This image of abandoned row houses has stayed with me.

If an image speaks to you powerfully — if it stays with you after you’ve turned away from it — I think you should listen.

When I look at my own work critically, I find that I am generally most pleased with pieces in which I have some emotional investment. Deeper gut reaction can be the beginning of deeper artwork. So, I now have several large pieces (each just in its beginning stage) that have started with a powerful gut reaction.

Painting touchups on the photo I transferred to fabric

This one is about houses in a row.

I grew up in Baltimore and spent my earliest years in a row house neighborhood. This was not a slum and it was also not a fancy townhome neighborhood. It was the kind of neighborhood in which young families were in their first starter home. There were kids around. Each house had a small, fenced back yard that opened out onto the alley.

When I was in high school my family moved to Florida. I remember noticing right away that the houses and the neighborhood just didn’t feel the same. Florida homes don’t have basements. The interiors have different wall finishes and different windowsills.

Everything felt “off.”

This photo of rundown houses in downtown Baltimore just speaks to me. It has a beautiful subtle palette. I like the simple shapes. And it speaks of loss and decay. (I discovered it online, referenced to a magazine publication from 2014. I contacted them and received permission to use the photo in my quilt.) I will be adding a character (a little girl) to the story and incorporating other fabric elements alongside this photo too.

Mixing some neutral grey tones for touching up the photo

Recently I presented a program via zoom to a quilt group in California. Most of the talk was about thinking through concepts and ideas – all the things to do before creating an art quilt. (Or any kind of artwork.) To me, this is where there’s important work to do.

The image that speaks so deeply to me might not speak to any other artist. All OK. Some are inspired by a peaceful beach in the early morning, or a hibiscus flower with amazing hues, or a piece of family memorabilia. Also all OK.

What I think is important is to listen to that strong gut reaction to an inspiration. Then start figuring out what to do with it.

Thank you for reading. I always enjoy questions and comments.
--Bobbi
bobbi@bobbibaughstudio.com

PS - Last week I was sharing some anxiety over our US election. Today… Aaaahhhh! So much better. I am filled with relief and hope for the future. Thanks to you for sharing your heartfelt responses.

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What turned to dust. What blew away. What remained.

As I was working in my studio yesterday I heard a radio story on the changes to America caused by the building of the Interstate highway system. In some places, new commercial centers were created. And in some places, towns were left behind.

I looked at a number of those towns in South Carolina and Georgia last week. Intentionally avoiding the interstate on our ride home to Florida, we drove through town after town. Each had a small central business district of brick buildings. Large glass windows faced what was once the main street. Most of these towns looked like they were barely holding on.

I was intrigued with this view – looking through the window, into the abandoned interior, and through the door and window on the other side

As we drove through the towns to the rural area before arriving at the next name on the map, we passed an occasional small home near the road. I stopped to photograph interesting abandoned homes. Others looked abandoned, but a second look made me stop. “Somebody lives here.”

Where do those people work?
What are their daily lives like?
Did they once go into the small town nearby for shopping and civic life?

What are their memories? What are their dreams?

I love this picture of a back door into the kitchen. The pattern of light makes it look warm and welcoming. Come on in! But this house was quite overgrown and in a state of disrepair close to falling down.

I have held onto the images of these small towns, and I am grateful for my photos to remind me of the feel of them. As an artist I believe it’s important to spend time looking. I hope to be able to see beyond the obvious. It’s important to hold on to the images and turn them over a number of times to discover all that’s there.

Such contrasts. The foliage around this home was verdant and lush. The home itself was dusty and long-empty.

Today I was back in the studio working on some new pieces. As I create work that digs into memories and stories, I want to remember the places I’ve seen and revisit the questions I asked.  Some of the photos will, I hope, become incorporated into future artwork. I will feel a sense of obligation to the images, to use them to cause viewers to question and wonder.

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A year ago, on a similar drive home through rural South Carolina, I discovered this intriguing building. Somebody once lived there. I was captivated by the vines and trees growing up through the inside.

I created “Something Else will Grow There” based on those photos.

“Something Else Will Grow There” is on my website, HERE.

Thank you for reading. I always enjoy questions and comments.
--Bobbi

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A window into art (and the heart of the artmaker)

Again I am thinking about windows.

This is not new for me. I have been incorporating windows into my compositions for awhile now. They are connected to my thoughts about home and my thoughts about one’s journey. (Which starts at home. And ends up wherever it ends up. Probably a new home.)

A discarded door by the side of the road a few doors down in my neighborhood caught my eye. It has inspired me to think how to incorporate it into a new work. I shot a few reference photos. I like the way the light is reflected in the panes and I like the way the light and shadows make patterns on the door portion. This is very emotionally compelling to me. A door should be an entry. But it’s been discarded. Is the portal closed? Is there still a way into meaning?

Two works in progress in my studio have windows too.

The work in progress show above (photographed on my worktable) is a dream and memory piece. I have inserted water and abstract pattern into the window panes. The strong windowpane pattern invites one to look through. But what’s there is unexpected.

This one is not as far along. I am thinking about developing it into an entry for a Florida SAQA juried show in June, “Perspectives.” It’s more compelling visually than emotionally to me – so far. The strong sense of light on the windows conveys warmth. These windows were also discarded. An invitation to look inside, but set aside from that purpose.

I just completed a large art quilt with a window at its center. “Look Through to the Memory.” (2019 – 42” x 42”) I worked to make the window a source of the invitation to enter the story. The character (the little girl) is connected to the window, and the dream-like contents of the panes connect visually to the dream-like environment beyond the window..

(Above: detail, girl sitting on the window frame. You can see the whole work – “Look Through to the Memory” and get more information about the completed piece on my website, HERE.) 

The work below, “Sometimes You Can’t See In” includes multiple windows. It was inspired by photos I took of an abandoned house on Hwy 301 in Central Florida. The boarded shut windows, obviously, prevent one from looking inside. That made me think about windows in homes generally. Can we see through them to the lives inside? Might the life within be obscured by the façade? How can you enter and find out what’s really there?

I’m so pleased that “Sometimes You Can’t See In” has been accepted into the 62nd National Multi-Media Juried Art Exhibit at the Maria C. Howard Arts Center in Rocky Mount, NC. It will exhibit there May 3 – August.

(You can see the whole work and get more information about the completed piece on my website, HERE.)

My purpose in working with window images is
to offer an invitation to the viewer.
Look inside. Try to see through.
My thoughts and my heart as an artist
are in these works. Look. Look again.

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I always enjoy questions and comments. Thanks for reading!

Bobbi
bobbibaughart@gmail.com

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Water Magic

I’ve been thinking about water, and about incorporating more water images into a new body of work.

Over the holidays, I took a photo-shooting walk in a beautiful preserve near my home to capture images. My goal was a group of shots for transfer to fabric.

I was amazed, first, at the richness of imagery available in just the smallest bodies of water. Almost puddles, small ditches beside the walking path held wonderful surprises – colors, reflections, a sense of depth.

In one spot, the water had a current. What a difference! I am still amazed when I look at these pictures. They look like molten glass, or like I have applied some PhotoShop effect to the image. This is just the delightful, amazing look of water in motion.

These leaves are photographed through about 6 inches of clear water

And I was surprised by the number of pictures I shot that will not work for my intended purpose at all. When I stood directly over the water, looking straight through it to grasses and leaves at the bottom of the ditch, the water was so clear that in the photo it became invisible. These are interesting natural textures, but they do not look like water.

(It seems to me the lesson here is about more than just photography. About the process of looking through. Seeing beyond. Allowing a barrier to disappear as we see what is behind it.)

When images of water are captured with some motion and bit of angle, they are – to me – just magical. They make me want to stop, to see in, to wonder about what is going on below the surface. Water in movement is a wonderful thought-provoking addition to works where I want to urge the viewer to look more deeply.

(Here are some detail shots of works I have created previously that incorporate water images.)

“Once She Could” art quilt. Water detail. The whole quilt can be seen on my web site HERE

“And All that’s Gone Before” art quilt.. Water detail. The whole quilt can be seen on my web site HERE

“Sometimes You Can’t See In” art quilt. Water detail. The whole quilt can be seen on my web site HERE.

“Where it is Strangely Like Home” art quilt. Water detail. The whole quilt can be seen HERE

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