-
About the Piece
Since December of 2009 I have been
trying to recover from the ongoing trauma of cancer. I have
experienced a lot of strain and shock to my body and life. In
response, I am trying to carve out a space of safety for myself.
Although this sculpture draws from different cultural and religious
sources, its foundation is the totem pole found in the North West
region. My family is from Washington, so I grew up with this Native
American iconography during the sacred time of childhood, when the
experiences from that period carried more power for me than those of
my adult years. If I had not been exposed to this art in my youth I
don’t think it would be as meaningful to me now. Visiting the South
West or the ocean as a child is very different than viewing them
through mature eyes.
The boat at the top evokes the crescent moon traditionally found on
goddesses’ headdresses, and Viking ships from my Scandinavian
heritage. The three equal armed crosses speak to balance between
heaven and earth and are figural stand-ins for my husband, son and
myself. The boat and three figurative crosses allude to Max
Beckman’s Departure. Like Beckman’s family who is transported by
boat on a beautiful blue sea away from atrocities, may our family
sail away from the atrocity of cancer.
The front of the totem speaks to fierce forces that ward off
malevolence. Safely tucked in, I peek out from the belly of totem
spirits that dispel death. The tradition of using grotesque beings
to evict evil is found in countless traditions. The woman references
India’s Kali and her powerful arms carry our boat to safety. The
Tiki gods I saw growing up on the West Coast speaks to the secular
that is imbued with the divine by a child’s mind. Snake-like arms
offer protection as do her breasts in the shape of sharp beaked
birds.
The back of the totem pictures regenerative spirits. The woman’s
vine and leaf arms hold the promise of growth. Although my abdomen
is swollen with ascities, hers is bursting with a swirling sun that
heals with light. Her breasts herald songs of life. Flowing from her
yoni is life giving water, or blood and riding this wave is a figure
in the wheel of life, or swastika position.
The similarities between the sculpture’s front and back highlight
the relationship between nurturing and aggression and how these two
seemingly opposite states can grow out of, meld into, and support
each other. In most cultures people are discouraged from expressing
anger. Here, fury is claimed as a positive force that unites with
life to offer protection. As I continue my battle with cancer, I
claim the gifts of these two services.
This piece has been easier to sculpt compared to my realistic pieces
because I have not had to consider correct body proportions
including muscle and skeletal structure. Instead, I have focused on
symbolic meaning, interesting shapes and composition. When making a
realistic sculpture I am bound to predefined forms; I consult dozens
of pictures of the skeleton, my face, and horses. Although I strive
to make good sculptures rather than accurate ones, on a previous
piece I had to redo my ear because it was too flat, then move it
down a bit. Also, I muck around for hours on the bane of every
artist: hands and feet. However, this piece has different birth
parents: the elements and principles of art including form, rhythm,
proportion, line. When I was in theatre I was aware of how my
creativity was filtered through the text of the play, the director’s
interpretation, and the give and take between other actors and
myself. The process offered a great deal of creativity, but
sculpting from only my mind, I am afforded more room to make my own
decisions.
I use a blend of straight edged and curved lines to reinforce the
balance between the masculine and feminine. Does the left side of
the brain process straight lines while curved lines are understood
by the right hemisphere? I am not attracted to works of art that are
strictly linear; they are conformist, lacking imagination. Likewise,
overly swirly lines feel sugary and lack backbone. Therefore, I have
used linear lines on the front to reveal aggressive maternal
protection; softer curves on the back evoke maternal nurturing.
My previous six pieces of art address my battle with cancer and
image thirty four skeletons that represent death. Hopefully, I have
finished that chapter and am ready to guide the ship of my soul to a
new place that will not involve sculpting skeletons.
I feel a desperate passion for sculpting as if I am sculpting my
reality, my future, my life. Perhaps it is wishful thinking,
positive thinking, or prayer to think that what I sculpt will
manifest, like the three fates who wove the future.
At times my art takes me away from others; I am fiercely driven and
must immerse myself in my art. This need to make art runs in cycles
that are powerful. When I want to sculpt the drive is overwhelming
and I feel great satisfaction after and during sculpting.
Gratefully, the pendulum swings back and forth and I want to be with
people again.
I think about the golden mean when starting a new sculpture and I
own golden mean calipers. I am not always adept at using them; still
I try to be aware of different size relationships between the main
forms of the piece.
In regard to copying, appropriation, or fair use, I am in humble
gratitude to the different artistic traditions and styles that I
draw upon. In many cultures art is passed from generation to
generation without individual creativity or variation so that the
stories and culture of the people can be handed down. Some examples
of this are Egyptian art, Indian art, Catholic icons in which
individual originality is discouraged in favor of passing on a
codified set of symbols and a pantheon of divine beings. To justify
my using this iconography I have no excuse except that I feel drawn
to it. I am not copying, but I have tried to make sure that I have
internalized the artistic forms and that they have been integrated
with my own set of images, symbols, and content so the result is
original.
I strive to make syncopated and complex rhythms as opposed to evenly
spaced elements. When sculpting something like hair I find that I
place the elements in a predictable and evenly spaced manner. Later
I realize how boring it is and I go back to space the elements in
varied rhythms. I wonder why I am drawn to such dull patterns as a
default, and what comes to mind is the soothing predictability of
these forms. Variation can be emotionally and intellectually
challenging. I think I have so much unpredictability in my life, I
gravitate towards the predictable.
For questions or comments about Cydra's art, please email: womansculpture@icloud.com |
