By Dorothy Shinn
Beacon Journal art and architecture critic
In the early days of Christianity, those who made objects for the church considered their labors to be spiritual acts — art as a form of prayer.
That concept has never waned, and today, even among artists who aren’t overtly religious, the notion of creation as a form of meditation or prayer is practiced more often than we might imagine.
For the six artists whose work is currently on view at Summit Artspace in My Spirit Rises, the act of making art is a spiritual act.
Carole Pollard, the person who brought them all together, said that when she and fellow exhibitor Ted Maringer came up with the idea of having a show together, she didn’t immediately think of the four other artists — Judith Salamon, Jean Evans, John Herring and Bob Yost.
”Several years ago when Ted and I got back from an exhibit that we were part of in Canton, Ted said, ‘Carole, why don’t we have our own show?’ So we took a look at this space, and right away we knew we couldn’t fill it.
”I talked to Don Parsisson [Artists of Rubber City president] about it, and he mentioned a themed show,” Pollard recalled.
”By the time I got off the phone with him, I knew the theme and I also knew the people I wanted to invite, because the spirit, and this sense of rising, not in an exploitive way, but in the exaltation a person feels when he or she is working on an inspiring idea, that thread ran throughout everybody’s work, or I
knew they brought that sense of reverence to their work.”
That’s how the group came together, and they each say it’s been the most inspiring and fulfilling experience they’ve ever had.
It’s a dynamic exhibit, thanks in large part to the fine exhibit design by Joan Colbert, and one of the best Summit Artspace has had in a long time.
The scale, complexity and ambition of most of the works is impressive, to say the least. But most importantly, the imagery is fresh and ideas have been reworked in innovative ways.
Yost, owner of Yost Pottery and Tile, has for the first time placed artworks on the outside of the freestanding walls that face the large, street-level windows.
”I thought it was a shame that space wasn’t used,” said Yost. ”I wondered if it couldn’t serve as a way of calling attention to the gallery and also give people who go by the gallery something to look at.”
”So I hung something in each of those spaces so that they’re centered in the windows, and I used a lot of my mirrored pieces so they’d be a little sparkly,” especially when the setting sun reflects off the mirrors.
Yost also created a number of spiral-themed, raku-fired compositions, as well as four life masks in black clay over which he fashioned leaflike helmets.
”My pieces aren’t complicated. They are very much part of the process and very seldom do they have statements. Five or six of them have crosses and the others have references to nature, but I don’t really bring many other things into the mix,” Yost said.
”When you’re in school, you have a community,” he pointed out. ”With industrialization we eliminated the craftsmen and along with them went any community of artists. Those communities now exist only in art schools.
”I have to say that the community we formed in this group was the best part of putting together this show — getting together to talk. I’ll miss it.”
Herring, who until recently ran Standing Rock Stained Glass (now Standing Rock Gallery), is for the first time trying his hand at painting. He fell back on a theme his studio created for church windows in Wheaton, Ill., based on the biblical seven days of creation.
It’s apparent in his acrylic paintings that Herring is accustomed to working in solid color shapes, and that his history of window design still holds sway over his sense of composition.
While his draftsmanship is quite strong, attested to by the single print in the show, Manship’s Angel, created by drawing the form with a felt-tip pen, Herring has yet to come to grips with the role paint and brushwork play in works on canvas. ”I do tend to stay inside the lines, but I’m trying to break out,” he noted.
What his work has going for it is a strong sense of concepts and symbolism, and how to tell a story visually by using metaphor.
If anything, Herring merely needs to work small for a while, on the scale perhaps of Manship’s Angel, a lovely composition. That should help him not only to hone his painting technique but to drive home the realization that light, the organizing principle of stained glass windows, must now give way to brushwork, the life force of painting.
Among the most impressive works in the show are Jean Evans’ hand-appliqued, hand-sewn quilts. (”I have one small one in the show that’s machine quilted,” she pointed out.)
Evans, who taught art in elementary school, lives in Medina in an English-style cottage. She has turned one room of her house into a studio and from it she can look into her garden and see the birds at her feeders.
One of the most impressive works in the show, My Space is a quilt depicting that studio. It’s a wonderfully complex work with fluid shapes and liquid shadows that give the piece life and movement.
”I wanted to create a space that I love that has lots and lots of color,” Evans said. ”I generally use plain colors and few textures, but in this one I wanted to have lots and lots of texture.
She noted, ”Color selection is probably the most difficult part of making a quilt, as it is in painting.”
She’s definitely influenced by Matisse, especially his Jazz series, most notably in her large quilt, Painter’s Gallery II. She has five works in the show, four of which are large-scale, impressive, and as far as I can tell, flawless quilts.
Equally impressive is the work of Maringer, whose kimono-themed hangings and costumes are exquisitely executed and beautifully presented.
”I love the pomp and circumstance of Oriental wear,” Maringer, a Native American, admitted. ”I am amazed at what people wear to represent themselves.”
Maringer has created many of his kimonos out of materials most commonly found at hardware stores, which he points out are an under-used (and low-priced) source of art materials.
Several of the kimonos are made out of fiberglass screening. Tyvek, used as a moisture barrier, is another unusual material, which he manipulates with heat gun and paint.
”When I think about what I’m doing, I think about textures first; color is the next thing that excites me, but first, I want texture in my work.”
He works on both a large-scale and a miniature level, which is unusual, but can perhaps be explained by his skills as a lapidary artist, creating bracelets, rings and other jewelry.
While most of his kimono pieces can be seen as hangings or sculpture, at least one, East Meets West, is a complete costume and could be worn.
In this work, the superb sewing techniques hinted at in Maringer’s other pieces come into full play. It’s a masterpiece and truly deserving of the place of honor that it’s given in the show.
Salamon has created 23 mixed-media paintings that she calls Spirit Dresses, based on a Modoc Indian legend from the American Northwest.
According to the legend, the Creator traveled to the spirit land to gain the powers to create many Indian tribes, and when he returned, he brought his daughter with him.
He gave his daughter 10 dresses that he made, representing the phases of her life on earth, the most important being the burial dress.
”These paintings,” said Salamon, ”are my imaginary creations for the main occasions of a young girl’s life, for the occasions of her womanhood and for her preparation for death and the afterlife of her spirit.
”Some of the dresses the Creator made for mundane activities, like digging roots and gathering twigs,” she joked. ”So some of my dresses look a bit the worse for wear, a bit frayed around the edges.
”And in my fertility dress, I’ve painted porcupine quills that look a lot like ‘little swimmers.’ ”
Another dress, titled Hole in my Heart, is drawn on a newspaper where the main story is about the flooding of New Orleans.
”My husband was doing refinishing and he had this piece of blistered varnish that I asked him to save. After it dried completely, I used it as the centerpiece of this painting,” Salamon explained.
As a student at Kent State University, Pollard had to decide between art and English as a major and chose the latter. It wasn’t until she retired in 1995 that she turned once more to art.
”I had always made all my own clothes for years and years, and my choices were sculpting, woodcarving or fiber,” she recalled.
”Then I discovered something called curved two-patch piecing, which lets you do curves without having to do hand applique, a demanding process that you can see in Jean’s work. . . .
”As soon as I discovered that, I got so excited. I think I stayed up working until 2 in the morning for most of my Christmas break and started to do my own quilts right away.”
Rather than pieced into a rectangular format, Pollard’s quilts are free-form, more like fiber sculptures than wall hangings.
Her piece BloomTime shows the curved two-patch process. ”This one just fell out of my hand,” she recalled.
The composition is a tree, the left side of which is rigid and constricted, while the right side is colorful and free-flowing, Pollard’s ”fantasy of what my retirement would be like.”
”I guess I hoped that some of that wonder about just how special the group experience was would somehow come through in the synergy of the exhibit, and I think it has.”
About the process of putting together the exhibit, Pollard said, ”It was magical. We have the most amazing chemistry between the six of us that I’ve ever experienced.”
Pollard hopes that the group will continue to meet. ”We have something special. I hope we can keep it going.”
Dorothy Shinn writes about art and architecture for the Akron Beacon Journal. Send information to her at the Akron Beacon Journal, P.O. Box 640, Akron, OH 44309-0640 or dtgshinn@neo.rr.com.