Fabric Cyanotypes. These ranged from 6 x 10 feet to 8 x 10.
The tailor who sewed these pieces used old-school techniques, and vintage Shanghai sewing machines. I'll upload photos of them soon. The thin cotton – used by Malaysian artists for batik – was quite difficult to hang straight, once tailored.
Ang Huah, of the Hainan Clan temple, Penang, stands in front of an artwork I made of his reminiscinces about Penang while growing up, and how it's changed.
I translated his English to Traditional Chinese via Google Translate, and he approved it (though said "it looks funny!")
Things got busier after a while, with more guests stopping by. Though a new venue, China House is considered one of the best arts spaces in Penang.
(And it's famous for the excellent wine, cheese, dessert and mezze at its openings)
All in all, ChinaHouse was the ideal venue to show my work for the first time in George Town, and they were a very good partner to work with — particularly Eeyan Chuah, the curator.
These Cyanotypes are printed on many pieces of paper that form large composite images. The silhouettes are cut from an assortment of what people here in Malaysia use every day for life, for work, or for ceremonies (mehndi stencils, Malaysian kerchiefs, Chinese joss papers).
Here I'm laying them out:
Then I paint the background with Cyanotype chemicals. For this series – the first time ever – I'm deliberately painting the solution (like watercolor) to form an integral part of the image.
Then I print it in the sunlight, where it turns blue:
The text in these images are my words: my impressions of Penang over the past year, from personal and public writing. It was written in English, then translated into Malaysia's official languages of Tamil, Traditional Chinese and Bhasa Melayu via Google Translate.
From the exhibition catalog:
"Some places exist most completely in the mind. There, the past, present and future can coexist without constraints or contradiction. The artwork I make is blue and white — the colors of sea and sky. The art hints at possibilities: where the horizon is softened by haze, you will find an illusion of infinity."
"Imaginary Landscape of Betel-Nut Island", 3 feet x 5 feet, 2011, Cyaotype print on handmade paper
The spires of a mosque are my favorite part of this piece. Here, text becomes texture:
And a poster for the Mid-Residency exhibition:
More details on the second series I've been working on at the residency, for an exhibition in George Town (Malaysia), coming up soon.
Every masterpiece you encounter in a museum was built on top of many failures. And you never see these other works. All that we see is what made the cut. If an artist is a perfectionist, and a ruthless critic of their own work, that means a whole lot gets tossed out.
I believe this is why so many people think they "can't make art" — they don't see the imperfections, the works-in-progress, the almost-art that must be destroyed along the way to making "Art".
So for my mid-residency exhibition here at USM's Gallery Adiwarna, I decided to highlight the imperfect, the small studies and tests I'm making as I prepare for much larger works.
Cliche-verre Cyanotypes in situ at Adiwarna Gallery, USM
Temple study 1 – Cyanotype Photogram on handmade paper
Some are more crooked than I'd like,
Two Hands – Cyanotype photogram of mehndi stencils
While others are overexposed.
Rolling Terry – Cyanotype contact print on handmade paper. From an artist's e-story project
At times the installation space leaves a bit to be desired,
Shaman's book – Cyanotype contact print on handmade paper, 1/15
But at others, when mounted on a sheet of handmade paper, the final print looks even better than before.
These 27 works in the show were selected from over 100 prints that didn't make the cut. The rest will be recycled into papers for another project. I see a failed print as something to learn from, for a while. I look at the many versions as I work on a series. Afterwards, I get rid of most of them to clear the way for what I make next.
It's never good to have too many failures staring you in the face as you start something new…
To see the artwork up close, stop by the exhibition at Adiwarna Gallery. It will be up until February 2012.
From the mountains of China to Southeast Asia: a thousand-year-old+ papermaking technique
When I crossed the Mekong to Laos a few years ago, searching for people who made paper, I had no idea of what I'd find. There was nothing written about it in papermaking literature. (Only much later did I find books by anthropologist Jacques LeMoine and scholar Laurent Chazee which briefly mentioned bamboo paper.)
After a chance meeting in a Lao border town, I hitched a ride to the jungle, and was in for a few surprises. Thanks to Andrew Kong for introducing me to the village — and for translating the recipe below. This recipe is excerpted from my upcoming book, Paper Pilgrimage: Bombs, Bandits, and a Vanishing Art in Southeast Asia.
It was described in detail to me by a woman in a Hmong village at the edge of the jungle in Bokeo, Laos. (The woman pictured above I met later is making paper in the same way–she is from the LenDen hilltribe in Luang NamTha, Laos.)
* Young bamboo stalks, just before they have leaves: 10-15 feet high
* Ashes from a cooking fire
* Fresh water from a stream
Equipment:
* Mosquito net
* Paper mold (bamboo frame)
* Pans, various sizes (plastic, metal, or other)
* Wooden hammer
* Freshwater stream
* Sunlight
* Wooden table
* Banana leaves
* Bamboo chisel
* Bamboo fork
Serving size:
Enough for the village to use that year for funerals, weddings, sicknesses, ceremonies with visiting shamans. Keep a few extra sheets on hand for family emergencies or in case a neighbor needs to buy or borrow some.
NB: The maximum number of sheets produced every day depends on the number of molds each family has.
Directions:
1. After cutting the bamboo, peel most of the layers off, take out the center pith of the bamboo— the softest part.
2. Dry in the sun 4-5 days
3. After dry, make small bundles of the dried bamboo
4. Boil in a big pan, add ashes from the cooking fire
5. Store and soak for up to 10 days
6. Take to the stream and rinse the bamboo
7. Cut some big banana leaves, wrap up the pulp, and leave somewhere dark inside the house
8. Open the bundle after 6 days. If it has started to smell, that's good, it is rotting and breaking down the fibers. If not, wrap it up again for a day or two
9. Beat the pulp on a table with a wooden hammer
10. Keep adding water and hammer more
11. As it gets well-beaten, scoop the mashed bamboo into a bucket
12. Stir the bucket of pulp and water with a piece of bamboo that's been split (used like a whisk or a fork). This tool lifts out the larger fibers from the pulverized bamboo, and leaves the finer fibers, which are used to make the paper. Wad larger/rough fibers into a ball; these will be re-used in a later batch.
13. Find an elevated spot – in the fields, away from the village because it makes a mess. Prop up the paper mold so it's not on the ground (i.e. on bamboo stakes)
14. Take a small bowl and pour the bamboo pulp onto the netting. Be sure to go back and forth evenly, in lines
15. After the water has soaked through the mosquito net completely, place the mold vertically against a wall and let dry in the sun – about one day
16. When dry, make a bamboo scraper with a sharp end, pry between the sheet and the paper's edges, and slowly peel off
More about the book – and how you can help make the Special Edition a reality – here: PaperPilgrimage.com
A cliche-verre is an image made with a drawn or painted negative.
For one of my two series in Penang, I'm making cliche-verre negatives.
I designed one with an ink sketch like this,
Then painted translucent acrylic like this,
Combined it with a photo negative and prepared paper like this:
And ended up with images like this:
Cliche-verre Cyanotype test print for the upcoming series, "Beyond George Town: Visions of Penang"
Some have said these images remind them of the devastation they witnessed in Phnom Penh many years ago. Others see the ghosts of someone they once knew.
For me, I'm intrigued by how our language limits and expands our thinking. We wear it like a set of clothes. It shapes us in ways we often forget. We are made of the words we use.
The final works – large-scale prints on cotton, referencing Malaysia's long batik tradition – will be shown in January 2012 at ChinaHouse Artspace in George Town, Penang.
Wherever I live, I pick up potential printing materials and test them.
I can guess what something will look like, but every potential printing object is a wild card. You never know quite how it will look, once sandwiched between iron salts and perspex.
Here in Penang, there are festivals year-round, and plenty of paper to decorate or to burn for Chinese celebrations. Like this one:
Once printed, it looks like a doily from my Grandmother’s table. The stripe effect comes from my varied printing times: about 5 minutes for each exposure. This is to determine the ideal printing time for each object.
Another eye-catching paper design is this one, in red and gold:
Printed and folded, the layers give an illusion of depth. I’m going to play with this one a lot in coming weeks:
The printed characters and features come through, particularly in more exposed areas:
A test with paper cut-outs combined with Mehndi stencils (from Little India in George Town, Penang). Varying exposure times combined with gradation of water added make for a complicated image.
Three Mehndi stencils are made of various plastics, so reflect light and print differently:
With a long exposure (nearly 30 mins), ink on this Chinese paper begins to print beautifully:
This sharp print on cheap paper
becomes much softer in blue and white:
And the details of this Muslim cloth are incredibly sharp.
This week I will take these materials, and others – elaborate fly-swatters, children’s knit caps – and begin to make something from them.
Lunchtime Lecture: How to Fund-Raise for Creative Projects
(A talk I gave at USM on Friday 21st October 2011)
The internet is an important tool for reaching a wider audience with your art, and also for finding funding for your projects.
This can be an alternative to – or a supplement to – applying for artist grants, whether for travel, materials, or equipment.
Successful Online Fund-Raising projects have several things in common:
* They are appealing to people outside your field, i.e. the project and language they use is simple, clearly written
*Good for niches where people have a passion and will invest in it
* The goals are apparent and appealing
* Funding options range from small to large dollar amounts, and provide a good value for funders
* It is somehow bigger than the person/organization who is asking for money (it's not 'Me, Me, Me')
* They are easy to share online (YouTube, Facebook, Email, Twitter, Blog, Website)
* Giving money makes donors feel good
* The person asking for money has already completed other projects (a good track record)
What to think about:
* How is this project going to help others?
* What will it bring to the world / allow to happen, that couldn't happen any other way?
* How can I convince people that I am trustworthy (i.e. that I'll follow through with the rewards and the project)
Here are eight creatives who have raised funds online:
1. Sarah Lacy is a student who has attended workshops in France, after successfully raising thousands of dollars online. Find out more on her fundraising page.
3. "Want to send me more than $20 but don’t want to buy any artwork? Rock on. The button below is the one you need."
Why she's successful:
* She gives 5% back to charity – and the charity helps promote her artwork
* She's posts flattering photos of herself and her artwork. This makes her message more personal and appealing.
* She uses social media – a LOT!
* Builds up her mailing list — and uses it
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2. Another artist who funds her projects in creative ways is Movana Chen.
In April 2012, she will work on her project Travelling Bookshelf at my studio residency, Studio Sicilia. She is writing to airlines to sponsor her plane ticket from Hong Kong to Sicily.
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For international creatives like us, a good way to raise funds is the website, IndieGogo.com
This is a great project on Southeast Asian punk. Why?
* They have incentives for companies and musicians: "You can make a donation on behalf of yourself, your company or your band."
* They give credentials for their project: "We are supported by ALS TDI of North America and the MND Association of Great Britain."
But: They could use more affordable rewards. Small donations of US $5 to $50 can really add up. Most people using IndieGoGo are from North America or Europe. Because we live outside these zones, it's a good idea to have electronic rewards like e-books and other downloads available for smaller rewards, then inter-continental postage is not such a factor.
* The video is well put together. Lots of tension. You want to know what happens to the refugees featured in the film.
* The US has a large Vietnamese-American community in California which will be invested in the story, which the director has already tapped into for past films.
* The director has already worked on previous, documented projects
* An excellent reward for just $20 — A copy of "Stateless" work in progress (people really like to feel involved in the production of a work)
* This project appeals to a wide variety of interests (face-painting, murals)
* She gives quick, easy-to-read information about Kyrgyzstan and why it's a good place for project
* LOTS of updates
* Very reasonably-priced rewards
* She was investing in the project, too: fundraising was just for plane ticket, not all travel expenses and supplies
This is why I would have funded the project, had I found it sooner: " There are plenty of artists in the largest cities in the world, but not many who are traveling to places that really need and want it. "
* perhaps the artist didn't follow through enough with social media
* didn't give enough explanation of what the project's goals were
* should have sought out an English-language proofreader (his English was unclear for online audiences)
* Could have gone bilingual to tap into Spanish-speaking audiences
I'll introduce my online fundraising project, as soon as it goes live.
Here's a preview:
Blue Elephant. Straightforward Cyanotype print on handmade paper, 29.7 x 21 cm(11.7 x 8.3 in), Number 1 of 15. US $225
Prints from an illustrated travel book on handmade paper, called:
Paper Pilgrimage: Bombs, Bandits, and a Vanishing Art in Southeast Asia, to be released in 2012 by ThingsAsian Press
This elephant is one of many at the Lampang Conservation Center in northern Thailand. One program I visited there transforms elephant dung into biofuel and handmade paper. The special edition of my book includes a sample of the elephant dung paper.
This print is being sold to raise funds for the special edition of my book. It will be printed on handmade Thai paper, hand-bound in golden Vietnamese silk, and have paper samples from 9 people and places featured in the book.
First there was paper drying in the darkroom after I painted it (with Cyanotype chemicals):
Then there were two students, who were polite but curious as I set up the printmaking studio with a few dozen examples of my Cyanotype work, including a copy of H is for Hong Kong.
And a few more students trickled in, until…
there were many!
At the back wearing a black T-shirt is Saiful, an artist who managed to get us some perspex (plexiglass) just in time for the workshop.
On offer were all sorts of materials for printing I’d found in various Indian and Chinese stores in George Town, Penang: festive papers for funerals, mehndi templates for weddings, paper money to be burned for good fortune.
Here are the last of the prints, baking in the late afternoon sun:
We’d run out of prepared papers by the time this student showed up, but he’ll hopefully make it to the next workshop:
Rinsing prints has an element of magic, as the image appears under the water:
Final prints: Chinese cut papers, Indian stencils, greenery from the studio grounds:
You never know what you'll stumble on here in Penang:
Like this block of ice at the morning market on Penang Road, George Town
This is part of what keeps me in motion: the surprises, the unfamiliar tastes and sensations and languages.
Still, to accomplish anything, an artist has to stay put once in awhile. My work at the Universiti Sains Malaysia is a great excuse to stay put for 3 months and make some work.
This week I'm holding an Intro to Cyanotypes workshop at the university's Terap Ulang printmaking studio, which is considered to be the best-equipped in Malaysia. See a few photos of the studio here.
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