In my ongoing attention (see previous post) to the “random abundance” which Oregon writer Kim Stafford (in his book The Muses Among Us) is the matrix out of which “Coherence is born,” I pulled Paul into Il Museo at the Italian Cultural Centre after our Italian class Saturday morning. A poster in the window was responsible. . . .
and the work by these artists did not disappoint. . . .
I posted some photos on Instagram (this piece is so beautiful! and scroll through these to see a delightful, chuckle-inducing Cinderella’s foot) earlier — I should have taken more time (and been less self-conscious) snapping with my phone camera, and I’m not sure you can appreciate how seductive, how inviting, the textures and shapes were, how they called to the hand. . . .
In fact, some of the ceramic balls in Patty Osborne’s “The Ball Project” were set aside for the viewer to do just that. . . .
I didn’t dare stroke the surface of Jackie Frioud’s Rupture or slip my index finger inside those “breaks,” but yes, I was tempted. . . .
Such a sensuous material, oddly, considering its humble origins. . . And these almost elemental shapes. . .
Come closer. . . . intimations of . . . what, exactly?
Womanly shapes. Malleability. . . .
I could/should have photographed every piece in the show, but we were fortunate enough to have the curator in the room and as I stood in front of each piece (or crouched to its side, or moved to see the back), I was also listening to the rich context she was offering. I’ll have another look in this weekend (which, as I finally edit this post, has rolled around and we’re off to another Italian lesson momentarily). . . The next as well, probably.
If you live in Vancouver, I think you’d love this small but gently powerful exhibition. And if not, I’m curious to know if, and where, you find art that inspires and provokes or pleases and soothes or baffles and challenges you.
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| Samantha Dickie’s Your Body Is A Battleground |
As you know, if you’ve spent anytime at this blog, I’m fortunate enough to be in Paris fairly often, and other European cities with abundant offerings of art, ancient, classical, contemporary. But I think it’s so important to look around and attend to the artists among us, to see the art they make from the materials and inspiration they find where we live. And that does not only exist in big cities as this post from last fall attests.
I bought the beautifully produced, small catalogue of the Malleable exhibition, and paging through it to write this post, I wish I’d photographed more. . . and better! I wish you could all get to the exhibition and we could share our impressions of it (We could have coffee together afterward–un caffe doppio per Lei?).
But as wonderful as each of the 21 artists’ work is, as wonderful as is the exhibition as a whole, as part of a year-long Gendered Voices Series, what I’m wanting to share here — through my own particular experience last Saturday morning in one particular gallery in one particular city — is the more general experience of seeking out and attending to art. . .
And the powerful pleasure of finding resonance there (or sometimes, its thought-provoking, even alienating, opposite). . .
Resonance such as I found in reading Michelle Sirois-Silver‘s artist statement on the page opposite the photo of her Matrons of the Universe, mixed media: clay, acrylic, metal, fibre, wood. 16x36x12″, 2019.
As soon as I read it, I knew I wanted to share it with you, and I emailed Michelle right away to ask permission which she generously granted. Check out her website (link in preceding paragraph) and you’ll see that she’s a marvellous textile artist — absolutely gorgeous, stunning, contemporary work in fabrics there — and I was surprised not to find any ceramic work represented. I asked her about that in my email, and she responded that she’s only been working with clay for two years. Astonishing! That’s what a Matron of the Universe can do, I guess . . .
Anyway, here’s her artist statement, as published in the catalogue of Malleable: Changing Notions of Women:
There is a knowing amongst older women.
At some point in our lives we no longer see ourselves and our experiences reflected in our culture. We become invisible and yet, we are still here.
When did I evolve into a matron, a staid and dignified woman of a certain age?
My life experience remains a constant and only I know who I am.
I am neither staid nor dignified, but I am an older woman and, though I resist being labeled, for some inexplicable reason I am content to co-opt and embrace the phrase, “Matrons of the Universe!” It resonates with me as does the sound of Buzz Lightyear shouting “To infinity. . . and beyond!” a throwback to my childrearing years. In my mind it is the perfect complement to the Matrons of the Universe.
. . . although I lean towards irony and humour as a form for self expression, I am deeply cognisant that there is a knowing amongst older women which draws upon a lifetime lived.
Isn’t that wonderfully pertinent? It certainly is to my life and my thinking these days (especially as I’ve just come away from two days working on my drawing skills in a room filled mostly with matrons). I suspect it will resonate with you as well, and as you know, your comments are very welcome. . .
As for me, I’m off to that Italian class shortly with mio marito, and this afternoon an Almost-Seven, a Four, and their almost-One Dog will be arriving for a two-day stay with Nana and Granddad. This Matron is going to have to Power UP! Better make my espresso a doppio!
Ci vediamo presto. . .
xo,
f
This looks like a wonderful exhibition. The New York Times has an interesting article about two female painters, with the headline "Can a Woman Who Is an Artist Ever Just Be an Artist?" Indeed, is the default male, and when that isn't the case it needs to be specified?
As for the word matron, I prefer matriarch. A matron with power.
I do love those clay pots – they are truly feminine. For some reason, I prefer thinking of the mature womanly cohort as "wise crones" rather than matrons. It seems more dramatic and witchy. My mother disagrees š
I like the term "matron". There's something solid about it. Unfortunately, it may have institutional associations. That exhibition sounds very interesting.
You ask, "And if not, I'm curious to know if, and where, you find art that inspires and provokes or pleases and soothes or baffles and challenges you." Very often, this blog is where I find the artwork that seizes my interest! (Especially that time when I had occasion to wander around Vancouver and bump smack dab into an outside installation that you had featured a few weeks earlier – I felt so clever to recognize it.) And, I should let you know, I have recently been involved in a local art show and am finding that I look at various pieces with a more educated and curious eye, due in part to your own efforts here. Thank you!
What a rich, exciting gift this post is! Thank you. I can only imagine what a pleasure it was to be there, and to think it just appeared in front of you. (Hmm, synchronicity?) I am sending it to a number of friends.
PS Michelle Sirois-Silver may be of an age where "matron" applies, but when my father used the termāwhich he often didāhe meant a woman whose primary identity was her domestic role.
I refer to myself as old, reclaiming age as nothing to be ashamed of (I am 71, so figure it's time.)
What a delight to read through your post this morning I enjoyed looking through a couple of the photos on IG but much prefer the blog version that shares so much intimacy of the artwork. I must admit, I don't think I would ever describe myself as a "matron" but I also turn away from "women of a certain age". Haven't worked out that piece of my vocabulary yet…
What a wonderful exhibition. Thank you for sharing.
Oh, I would have loved to make the trip over to see this exhibition. Love ceramics, and the topic. I can not, no how think of myself as a matron. I have not grown up sufficiently to carry that mantle. Maybe itās the environment in which I live. Wise Crone, no, not that either. I guess I can not be labelled. Iām just me stumbling towards the finish line.
Ali
Taste of France: That's why I try not to use the word "actress" — why can't they all just be actors? As for matriarch/matron, I'm not sure which Michelle S-S might prefer, but I applaud her tactic of taking a word that's often aimed at our demographic and giving it a potent twist.
K: I like the "wise crone" as icon as well. But see what I say just above, to Taste of France. Might not seem as pertinent yet to you two youngsters š but I know I am seen as a matron by some/many (especially because I'm the mother of four, Nana to six) and I like the idea of powering up that term, breaking the barriers it might seem to enforce.
Mme. I think its etymology is worth considering — while careful not to essentialise woman as mother, I like seeing the power of the mother (re)claimed, (re)appropriated by matrons like us who have seen a thing or two. The etymological connection between "matrix" and "matron," mother/maternal as bedrock (those bedsprings in Sirois-Silver's piece. . . .
Marsha: You can't know how much it pleases me to know I've had a small influence in how you see the world. Thank you!
Duchesse: Yes! Synchronicity . . . serendipity. . . I, too, am happy to tell my age, hoping to stretch notions of the terrain post-50, to individuate that terrain in others' perceptions, just a bit. I think of Gloria Steinem's famous response when told she didn't look her age, "This is what 40 looks like. . . We've been lying so long, who would know?"
Re the term "matron," and Michelle Sirois-Silver's deployment of it, see my comments above. I see it as wonderfully, playfully, gently subversive.. . . if you check out the art on her website, you'll see nothing of the careful and staid and bourgeois connotations of the term š Yet, like you and I, she knows that others can sometimes see her as just that. So I get a sense of "Ok, you're going to call me Matron; This is what a Matron looks like, does."
Smithposts: Thanks for the kind words! I'm always pleased to hear that readers still prefer the blog format (even though it's so much simpler to publish on IG). I'm not so sure what I'd prefer to call myself either (woman of a certain age is so coy. . . and flattening, really), but even once I figure it out, I will be read through others' projections, masks. . . . Representation is not at all straightforward, is it?!
Jen: You're very welcome! I'm pleased you enjoyed it.
Ali: I don't like the idea of being labelled either. But are you ever conscious that you have been? That you're seen as fitting a certain category which catches you by surprise, which seems to deny the complexity you know you've lived?
Wonderful statement (and the beautiful thing about my Matron age is that I (usually) don't give a damn about my invisibility and mind my own business-although I can be mad sometimes!).
The exibition is very interesting.
Malleable is a new word for me ( in more sense than one!)
Big,small,famous or unknown artists-always an inspiration and thought provoking-I like to visit exibitions,sometimes even prefer the small ones,I can concentrate much better when it's not overwhelming
Girl,you rock this italian!
Dottoressa
Wonderful work.
As to the use of the word–
Matron on its own might be seen as pejorative (or as a British head nurse, for that matter), but for me Michelle Sirois-Silver's "Matrons of the Universe" implies a power explicit in being a woman. Not to be denied–though many try. And let's face it, I've been called worse things over the past 69 years.
Iām still thinking about matron/crone. I wonder if having children and grandchildren helps to promote the feeling of having earned that distinction. If I have been – categorized – itās usually by choice. I can be invisible or not, depending on how I feel. Life truly is theatre
As ever, food for thought.
Ali
I do like the idea of the term āMatrons of the Universeā more than either matron or crone alone, but I can certainly see appeal in both. The whole idea of identity and labeling really interests me and I tend to butt my head against it too frequently. Men are usually just referred to as Men unless they are very young, and still behaving in a childish manner, or very old. I still donāt see why women should be labeled as anything but women, perhaps simply with the additional modifier as āoldā at some point. I realize that this word also brings up many issues. I can own being old, even though I am only 61, because I can look at it dispassionately and recognize that have passed into the last third of my life, at least speaking from a statistical perspective. I will not know the truth of it until the time comes. But old is also a term with psychological implications, and we all know people who are psychologically old in their 50s and psychologically young in their 80s. Or at least I assume we all know such people, I do. And with that mental state also comes a certain amount of physical adaptation or lack of it, to age.
I adore the images you have posted and the exploration of womanliness and also malleability, another word that can be used in a negative way but also implies a certain kind of strength and adaptability. As usual, thought provoking and enlightening.
It is difficult for me to catch all the hidden meanings that the term "matron" may carry for native speakers. There is a German translation ("Matrone") which is related to a certain physical image (of size, in all directions) and to social power (as in "matriarch"), based mainly on family size, and often on the power of the correspondent male. All of which has nothing to do with me.
The term which I am trying to reclaim for me (in German)is that of "old woman" or "old lady". On the surface, it is completely accurate, but at the same time I like the idea of surprising people with what an "old woman" may think or do.
Dottoressa: It's interesting to think about, isn't it? How we perceive ourselves, how others perceive us, as we move into these later years (you, of course, being much younger than I).
Mary: Yes, I see her as reappropriating language that's been used to denigrate a certain type of woman (even while that type has been very useful to society).
Mardel: All of what you say! And aren't they great, these pieces? My photos don't do them justice but I know you have much experience in galleries and will interpret them generously. š
Eleonore: I know that it's tough to catch the wide range of connotations (and I prefer this term to "hidden meanings," but that's my literature professor coming to the fore š in a second language– you do remarkably well. And from the definitions you offer of the two German words, there's much overlap — I wonder if the German for "old woman" (alte Frau?) has connotations similar to the English "crone"? Interesting topic, right?