Now imagine one of those little artists, full of their own passion, curiosity, and creativity, and taking them to the IMA. Everywhere they look their eyes land on items they want to investigate further. The questions start flowing, “How did the painter make those colors?” “What’s that made of?” “How did the artist put all of those pieces together?”

You would like to help, to encourage discovery, but despite your best intentions, another phrase slips from your mouth instead: “Don’t touch.”

Don’t touch. That phrase may be one of the quickest ways to deter an inquisitive mind. Dejected, your little one may spend the rest of the visit silently viewing the art on display, wishing there was something they could do to connect to the art without damaging it. To not only see, but to engage with art on a level that speaks to their imagination.

For every budding creative out there, for every art detective, and for every child who desires to experience art on their terms, the IMA would like to offer our inaugural Art Packs program.

Launching this summer, the Art Packs program will be a way for children visiting the IMA to experience works of art through structured activities that enable them to create for themselves while priceless art is preserved. Every Art Pack will contain materials centered on a theme such as line, shape, color, or pattern. All the items in each Pack will work with the theme to generate activities that correspond to particular objects in the IMA’s collection.

The themes are the blueprint, but visitors are the designers! Each family that tries an Art Pack has the opportunity to use a theme as a guide for their own self-directed exploration. This way, visitors control how they spend their time, focusing on the elements they find most interesting and appropriate for their child. Families can use a variety of methods, including games, critical thinking, clues, and museum-safe art projects to better understand the collections on view and the artistic principles behind them. With activities that encourage questions, facilitate learning, and add interactivity to a museum visit, what’s not to love?

Not only will Art Packs increase familiarity with the Museum’s collection, but they will serve as a fun and tangible way for children to engage with art and empower parents with knowledge they can use to help their children learn about art.

The IMA hopes to receive funding for the Art Packs program via power2give.org, a project-specific donation website that our friends at the Arts Council of Indianapolis partnered with last December. If this sounds like a project you can get behind, check out the project page by the IMA to read more about Art Packs and consider a donation. You can donate as little or as much as you like and certain amounts will entitle you to extra benefits. The banner benefit is an invitation to test out the Art Packs prior to their public launch, giving you an exclusive chance to see how your donation will benefit visitors! Your help will bring 40 Art Packs to the IMA. They will be free and used frequently, putting your donation to work many times over.

Making the galleries fun for kids while keeping the art safe is something amazing. We would love your help in making this project a reality!

One kinda sorta gets used to it. In a way. In that holy-crap-good-god-almighty-what-the-hell-is-going-on sort of way. Kinda makes me want to scream and shout.

Admittedly it is only the first day of February but many of our early blooming plants are ready to strut their stuff when we get a couple warm days this time of year. Despite single digits not so long ago, as soon as we had that warmer weather at the beginning of the week the somewhat precocious members of our garden displays were bursting forth with the fervor of spring. The early shift in the gardens has had enough of a cooling period to initiate the launch sequence for flowering.

Flowers in January. Kinda makes me want to scream and shout.

And I know I have said this before in blogs in previous years but each year when these early plants start blooming? I swear. It’s like the very first time I have ever seen them. It’s like it IS the first time I have ever seen them. Despite the fact that I know where to go look for them because some of them I have been visiting for twenty years. It’s just so damn exciting to see them and know winter is going to end (although winters lately are not that much to recover from round here). That’s beside the point. The point is it is so damn wonderful that it kinda makes me want to scream and shout.

The plant that I have searched out as the first bloomer of the year for two decades now is the snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis. We have many of these planted at the top of the Ravine Garden but you can find them in several places throughout the gardens. Only a few inches tall, they truly standout among the dead and decomposing leaf litter in out of the way places.

These come up and complete their lifecycle more or less before the trees leaf out so you can put them in the shadiest of spots. The bulbs are so small they can be tucked amongst the roots of trees and shrubs or crevices between stones. They also make very charming tiny bouquets.

The other very early spring/winter flowering bulb I go in search of is Eranthis hyemalis, the winter aconite. This one shines like the sun to brighten a winter day.

Like the snowdrops, these can be tucked in and amongst other plants and are very shade tolerant with foliage disappearing early. They even happily grow together.

The winter aconites actually do some self-sowing, taking three years to develop blooming-size bulbs.

For many years, our earliest blooming daffodil was ‘February Gold,’ though in truth it bloomed in February maybe once. The next early cultivar we tried was ‘Rijnveld’s Early Sensation.’ Indeed it was sensationally early, flowering even earlier than ‘February Gold.’ This year it kind of pushed the envelope of early a bit too much. It was in bloom by mid-December. Now last year that might have been okay. But this year? Not so good of an idea as it turns out. It may be early but Mother Nature was not amused and slapped it down.

Not that I would quit planting it. If we go back to more normal winters this won’t be such a problem. And quite frankly I like the prospect of having a few daffodil flowers in January or early February. I bet there are still a few undamaged buds in there. I can see at least one unopened easily.

Hellebores remain one of my favorite early season perennials. The traditional Christmas and Lenten roses (Helleborus niger and hybridus) keep getting improved by breeders all over the world. The flowers have gotten larger and more outfacing so they are more visible. You no longer have to lay on the ground to see inside the flowers, which is very nice considering they are blooming in rather chilly times. I’ve gone on and on in previous blogs about the new H. x ballardiae and H. niger plants. But today I have a couple shots of some rather mundane by today’s standards H. hybridus. These are plants we have had for over a decade. These are long-lived plants, so don’t whimper and moan when you have to pay a little money for one. Tired of hearing that crap. Anyway, we have had a couple of these in full bloom already but these are nice plump buds instead.

But I don’t want to ignore Helleborus foetidus, or stinking hellebore. Yes, an attempt has been made to make this plant more user-friendly by calling it bear’s claw hellebore but foetidus is kind of like fetid and fetid is kind of like stink. Thus, the name stinking hellebore. Except it really is not stinky unless you break the foliage and stick your nose in the sap. So. Well, I don’t know where I was going with that. I want to tell people to grow up and shut up and just embrace the wondrousness of the plant. Then I think if changing the common name makes it easier for people to seriously consider adding the plant to their garden then it is a small thing to do. Boy. That long chat was not expected.

Helleborus foetidus starts blooming in mid to late fall and continues to be nice all the way into spring. Unlike the other hellebores, these plants are not really long-lived but they self-sow nicely, ensuring the plant remains in your garden. And we all know how cleverly plants move around in the garden and find the perfect spot to appear. And don’t you wish it had been your idea? Here’s a shot from this week here in our gardens. Notice the single digits without snow cover have no real effect on the blossoms.

I love it when they have this touch of lipstick on the flowers. This can be quite heavy on some and I am certain it could be selected for. I bet in no time you could have them tarted up like a street walker.

And now a quick look at some Hamamelis, the witchhazel. This is perhaps the one winter flowering shrub for Indiana and the rest of the Midwest. Many of the best are the hybrid H. x intermedia, though H. mollis has wonderful fragrance as well. Flower color ranges from soft yellow to gold to orange to red and rarely burgundy. These large shrubs tend to have excellent fall color, as well. Those with yellow or gold flowers tend toward yellow leaves, and orange and red flowers tend towards orange leaves in fall. Blooming can last for a month or more. While they bloom in shade, the best flowering and fall color will come from sun and part/light shade situations. They make a nice cut flower to bring indoors, as well. You can look lovingly at your witchhazel out in the yard on a cold day as you sip your coffee and enjoy it’s fragrance in the vase on your kitchen counter.

These plants may be grafted so look for suckers that hold their leaves all winter, as they may be rootstock rather than your preferred plant. Breeders have been selecting for good leaf drop so the flowers show up better. This ‘Arnold Promise’ has its roots showing, so to speak.

It does have lovely flowers.

H. mollis ‘Wisley Supreme’ is supreme in flowering and fragrance.

One of my favorites is the orange H. x intermedia ‘Jelena.’ This one doesn’t have as strong a fragrance as ‘Wisley Supreme,’ but I love the color. This one has developed a nice form too. These plants can get large.

A close-up.

On really cold days the witchhazel petals will curl back up like these opening buds then roll back out to full size when it gets warmer.

Our native species, H. virginiana, is wonderful as well but with much smaller flowers much earlier in the fall. It does have a good yellow fall foliage color.

Just one more plant to mention then I will let you go. The earliest flowering tree of substance around here is Cornus mas, the cornelian cherry dogwood. These bloom even earlier than Forsythia. If we get a few warm days they are going to burst open. Look at these buds.

Not a real exciting tree other than when in bloom, I realize how many 20 foot tall trees there are covered with yellow flowers in March. Or, if it is warm, February. It does have mildly interesting bark and produces a tart red fruit in late summer. Cultivars are available for fruit production.

I feel I barely touched the surface on all these plants. And at the same time, I fear I touched the very same surface. Since I always feel like I am seeing these for the first time I tend to forget if I covered all this information before. But I don’t want to think about that. If I have covered them the same way before then I maybe need to write a whole ‘nother blog. And the thought of that makes me kinda want to scream and shout.

Design rendering for Star Studio.

I imagine the next week will feel very much like the countdown for a NASA space shuttle mission.  “T-7 days and counting.   Activate all personnel.  Review discussed layout.  Load in tables, chairs, and art supplies.  Backup and review tech systems.  Complete preliminary security and housekeeping inspections.  T-0.  Unlock the doors.”  Admittedly, this is both exciting and terrifying.  After nearly a year of planning and preparation, Star Studio will reopen to the public on Tuesday, January 15, 2013 at 11 am sharp with a very different vibe.

And so the story goes, on a cloudy day in March, a team of museum educators drafted a dreamy vision statement based on results gleaned from the 2012 IMA Family Study: “Inspired by the IMA’s collection, its resources, and related aspects of the visual arts, programs and activities in Star Studio encourage families to imagine, explore, create, share, and collaborate with art in new ways.”  We asked both members and non-members to test activities based on these five overarching themes during a set of focus groups.

In each section, adults are provided with the tools to teach fundamental art concepts such as color, line, shape, and texture, to children under the age of twelve in fun and innovative ways.  In the first section, Imagine, visitors are invited to think creatively about the art-making process.  Rules, instructions, and templates are absent.  Visitors are encouraged to create art from a set of traditional and non-traditional media, including paint, drawing materials, and clay, but also twist ties, bubble wrap, and packing peanuts.  The second section, Explore, includes a tactile table designed to stimulate the senses, promote creativity, and assist in the development of fine motor skills.  For the third experience, visitors are invited to Create.  They can use the iPad Free Draw Station to create their own works of art. Upon completion, visitors may email their drawings to themselves, friends, and family.  Another activity in this section invites young visitors to engage in imaginary play. By donning a construction hat and pretending to be construction workers kids help build R. Indiana City using an assortment of building blocks.  Share allows visitors to write or draw responses to a phrase on a large-scale chalkboard wall.  Additionally, Share includes an interactive photo booth, giving visitors the opportunity to capture images of the works they created, which are also projected on a wall.  And lastly, Collaborate encourages participants to socialize with other patrons by working together on a community art project.

Bonus!  A series of facilitated programs are now offered in the classroom on Wednesdays and weekends. For more information, please check out our calendar.

Robert Brown, “Concession Stand,” posted on the My Snapshot website.

When I look at “Concession Stand” by Robert Brown I am reminded of artist John Baldessari’s commentary about one of his favorite found photographs. He was mesmerized about a particular film still image he had bought because of what it didn’t show him, and thus what it left open to interpretation. We are seduced by several different factors in photographs, but one often overlooked by the amateur and sometimes even the professional is what is left out. One of my old photography professors has a farm in Vermont. He used to joke with us that he practiced reductive farming, only choosing what plants to remove and leaving the rest. He may not be a very good farmer but photography, especially the kind where one goes around with a camera hunting for a good image, is just this sort of reductive process.

For Brown’s image we are given a title and a very open-ended scene. We see the silhouette of a woman with her hat off, raised to one side, interrupting a distant view of some indiscriminate low lying building. There is just enough detail in the shadows of the foreground to see evidence of some candy bars, which I latch onto because it makes the title of the image ring true. Sometimes not enough context can cause us to lose interest, to throw up our hands and say, “and…” But this image saves itself from that fate because it sets up just enough of a narrative that our imagination (or at least mine) is kicked into gear. There are lots of questions streaming though my mind: Is it a woman? Why does she have her hat raised just so? And where are we? Am I inside the stand looking out or outside looking in? And that view is so bleak, yet intense. It could be any non-descript location, but the vagueness of the scene is disorienting and it makes me feel like this moment was captured just before something consequential was about to happen. It’s akin to a cinematic ploy where everything seems too ordinary and hum drum, so the tension in you rises because you know something will have to happen soon. This type of internal visual game (if you will) captured my interest, and that of course is the goal for all of us lens-based artists.

Another thing we are always looking for in the photographic image is quite simply to see something new. But what does new really mean? It doesn’t just mean “something I haven’t seen before,” but more precisely “something I haven’t imagined seeing before.” I, for example, haven’t seen most photos of peoples’ cats on Flickr, but if I did they aren’t likely to seem new to me. Nothing against anyone’s kitty pics of course, we all have them, but a big part of creating a photograph with staying power is offering the world a picture that it has not thought about or otherwise witnessed before. Now you are probably thinking, “well, what’s left to take a picture of then.” Its not just what is being photographed that determines if something is new, it’s also how you photograph it. For example, we have been drawing, painting and photographing trees for ages, but there are individuals that still find ways to render a tree so that when we look at it, it still feels authentic and distinct.

The three images below from the My Snapshot photo competition particularly contain this newness for me:

Genevieve Borden, “Poetry in Motion.” From the My Snapshot website.

Mili Walker, “Rabbit Hole.” From the My Snapshot website.

Tony Elliott, “Dubai Skyline.” From the My Snapshot website.

One type of image that we tend to gravitate towards is that which captures some notion of the sublime. Ideas of the sublime have been around since the mid eighteenth century so it’s meaning is complicated, but in short the sublime connotes that which is beyond our comprehension. Visually this tends to mean images that seem surreal or otherworldly. It’s also a term that historically has been associated with our perception of the natural world and thus is often brought up when discussing images that deal with both the awe and terror nature is capable of producing.

So I would argue that these three images by Genevieve Bordon, Mili Walker, and Toni Elliott respectively, generate their newness from their ability to depict notions of the sublime. It’s quite clear how “Poetry in Motion” fits in, rendering this amazing moment at the end of the day where birds in flight find passage between the ground and looming clouds of black overhead. “The Rabbit Hole” follows similar pursuits rendering the sky as something otherworldly, simultaneously beckoning and foreboding. “Dubai Skyline,” perhaps surprisingly for some, also falls into this category for me because it visualizes this unending pristine cityscape, one that almost looks virtually manufactured rather than real. Perhaps it is just because I am not familiar with Dubai’s skyline, but I have the same reaction to this image as when I see space cities depicted in Star Wars films. There is something unbelievable about its seeming perfection, which tugs me in the two directions of amazement and fear of what perfection might actually look like.