Thursday, March 4, 2010

falling ribbons

Ok, I will admit that I never let a ribbon anywhere near my wardrobe but I am secretly in love with these silky, luscious, colorful, girly, objects. So needless to say I love this gorgeous installation by artist Jamie Lea Bertsch.

Jamie's other work is just as exciting in her use of the absolute most everyday fibers to create slightly abstract but also very much grounded in reality works of art. Her use of color and texture is fabulous and sumptuous.

Jamie submitted to connective thread and now I am wondering how her work did not make it in- as I am totally in love with it. It very strongly reminds me of the installation in the show by Kim Hennessey, interesting because there are a lot of artists who's work reminds me of hers lately. I wonder what in our lives and society are leading artists to this specific style of working.

I find Jamie's statement near perfect so I have included it in its entirety here:

The once utilitarian object, the used up, the worn fabrics, the abandoned backdrops of the domestic sphere are prevalent materials throughout my work. I use this material to reflect the overlooked and the discarded— memories of place, curiosities of resemblance, remnants of process. My work explores the space in which nostalgic buildup and memory meet. By presenting these types of relationships to the viewer, I offer the opportunity to fill in their story, either the one that I explore, or a story based on their own imagination, sense 
of place, and memory.

Through manipulating used fiber, (layering folds, stacks, knots, stitches, and tangles) I create work that speaks to past experience. Most often, I use my own identity as a starting point, especially my transition form girlhood to womanhood as the eldest sister. I am interested in paradoxes relating to the navigation of this journey: self-containment and expansion, maturity and playfulness, empathy and detachment, vulnerability and protection. My goal is to find a visual language to negotiate these ideas.

I move at a constant pace to capture the feelings, experiences, and emotions before they escape— pinning the fibers directly to the wall holds tightly onto the moment. The wall serves as a page in a diary, a record of thought, time, yearning, and contentedness. The wall is a space for these memories to occur. At the same time the wall occupies a sort of liminal space that doesn't fully reference the past or the present.

The evidence of my process falls to the floor. While adding and subtracting from the wall, my leftovers gently cascade to another surface. The floor mimics the underlying page in a diary; the page that naturally records debossed, muted imprints of the pencil marks. This nostalgic buildup is central to my making. I attach the floor pieces together in the way that they have fallen, lift the piece to the wall, and start a new entry.

See more of Jamie's work.


nadia said...


Joetta M. said...

i know so gorgeous and inspiring:)