As artists, we rely on our senses to create our forms of expression.  Many might consider sight the most important. For John Bramblitt, it’s the least.

image courtesy of bramblitt.net

Before John lost his sight, he didn’t spend much time thinking about painting.  He said, “I had thought about painting before, and it might be horrible to say, but I didn’t think I’d be good at it. When I lost my sight, I thought, if I’m not good at it, I’m not going to be able to look at it anyway, so why not give it a try.”

Painting was calming for John.  He lost his sight to epilepsy, which left him angry and frustrated.  John said, “Had I not lost my sight, I might never have picked up a paintbrush.”

John has developed a process that allows him to paint by touch.  The only difference is that instead of using his eyes to differentiate colors, he uses his fingertips.

image courtesy of bramblitt.net

John will be in Indianapolis on July 29^th to speak at the 2010 Statewide Assistive Technology Conference.  He will conduct a hands-on workshop, where he will instruct people on what it is like to paint from his perspective.

For more information on the event, go here. To learn more about John and his process of painting, visit John’s site.

Haven’t blogged in a while. Strange. Am a bit detached at this point with the opening of 100 Acres this weekend. But, that kinda makes sense. It’s the culmination of a long endeavor on my part, Type A’s part and, of course, the IMA and everyone who works (and has worked) to make the Art & Nature Park a reality. It’s at times like these that I get a bit detached. It’s a method of approaching exciting and nerve-racking times. Since there are so many ways in which this event can be “ruined,” it makes sense to take the good with the bad, as they say.

For example, the weather forecast for the opening weekend has been, how shall I say this, horrific. Maybe some people don’t mind 90 degree weather. But, add in storms and flooding…

Lisa Freiman says bring it on.

I could just get all upset and ask how could the weather gods let this be. But, it’s just a (bad) coincidence: crappy weather for an outdoor opening (paging Alanis Morissette). In any case, I could get upset or just take it in stride (I am throwing in a lot of cliches for some reason). It is as it is.

Strangely enough, this tactic of not taking things personally has led to quite a bit of introspection. Basically I go through a laundry list of the things that have happened in the time it’s taken to create and complete the project. Was Team Building successful? I’m gonna say yes. Will people notice? What kind of an effect will it have on my career? Come to think of it, where is my career now? There’s good momentum from 100 Acres. And we have a monograph out! But what’s next?

And, while we’re at it, how’s my personal life? It’s certainly different than when this project started. Well, for starters, I’m no longer married. Single dad time for me! And that’s just the tip of the iceberg (cliche alert #37). That I claim to let things go is not entirely true. It’s not true at all. In fact, it’s all personal. What to do? I can elevate the importance and get all prima donna about it.

Or…

I can think back to the whole point of the Team Building project, the whole reason for being involved with the IMA and 100 Acres in the first place.

Team Building with Type A

The experiential education elements shine through. I remember how experience occurs without an inherent value attached. Once through the experience, then all the thought processes and value placing begins. And it’s here that releasing the experience from all of that can be liberating. It makes it harder to sum up and convey, especially without the positive or negative elements that help turn the experience into anecdote. But it’s not about conveying; it’s about letting others have their experience and, if desired and possible, sharing in some way.

That’s what Type A attempted to capture in Team Building (Align). And it’s that sentiment, that modus operandi, that I am trying to apply to my pre-opening weekend jitters.

So, the park will be muddy and humid and hot and everyone’s hair will be frizzed out. Okay. And it will be stormy over the weekend and on the Summer Solstice, and clouds will block the sun from casting the ring’s shadow. Okay. In any case, the opening will continue and will be marked in a myriad of ways by everyone there. Hopefully we can share the experience communally and retain what’s important personally.

Life imitating art. Or is it the other way around?

Adam
Type A

Joep van Lieshout, with his studio Atelier van Lieshout, will present a group of 20 benches with drawings of large bones that will together form the shape of an enormous, stylized human skeleton.

The work grows out of ideas about native heritage and cultural development, with bones iconically referring to artifacts and remains from previous occupants. The artist, who encountered visitors sitting on rocks and other natural perches on his visit to Indianapolis, wanted to create benches as sites for resting in 100 Acres.

The details: Double-Shot Music Documentary Day at the IMA
Saturday, March 13
1-5 pm
The Toby

Wug Laku, local artist and member of ArtsWORK Indiana fills us in on the events taking place this weekend as part of Disabilities Awareness Month at the IMA:

The exhibition opened Saturday and runs through January 18, 2010 in the IMA’s Star Studio. I spent my Tuesday lunch in the exhibition. The students’ video works and the film documenting the process with Dash drew me in. I was also tempted to add my own daydream to an IMA Flickr set shown in the exhibition as a slideshow. But my stomach was growling so I’ll have to go back.

I was delighted to sit down with Julie for a quick chat earlier this year.

Interview with artist Julie Dash

Was there a recent experience that led to the title for the exhibition, Smuggling Daydreams into Reality?
That’s something that as an artist I’ve been doing all my life and career. It’s not always easy being a visual artist. Creative ideas can be fragile and sometimes you have to protect those ideas at the same time you are developing them. We’re born creative beings. As you get older people demand that you be less creative, less imaginative and more pragmatic so you learn to protect and nurture your imagination. I’ve learned to smuggle my dreams into reality.

What do you hope visitors to the exhibition will take away from their experience?
First, it’s a way of giving a public voice to my students. Second, it’s a way for visitors to see and hear and interact with the students. And for me, it’s a great experiment with teaching and nurturing creativity. This is the first time I’ve worked with students in this way. I was presented with the opportunity and said “I can’t turn this down.” For the students, myself and the community, I hope we will continue this experience on some level.

The exhibition title also serves as a theme for this year’s Museum Apprentice Program. How do you hope the students in the program will be impacted?
I hope they will have fun smuggling their creative ideas, and at the same time they will unmask themselves. Everyone walks around with some mask on. This is the perfect venue to talk about unveiling because you have access to art and experts in one place. The students went into the galleries and looked at African and Asian masks and then video blogged about their experiences.

As a filmmaker, your daydreams would seem to be wonderful breeding ground to explore new stories, plots and characters. How have your daydreams found their way into your craft?
You’ll always see some of my daydreams in my films. If given an assignment or a script, I have to dream it from beginning to end before I make it. Dreaming comes in handy. It’s really just a more romantic way of saying “visualize.”

Are there ways you might recommend people to access and record their banished fantasies or deferred hopes?
Video blogging – it’s private and easily done with a flip camera and tripod. You can sit with yourself and talk about experiences.

Tell me something about yourself you think readers would like to know.
Before a filmmaker, I’m a mother. My daughter just graduated from college. So you could say, first I’m a mommy.

Note: this interview was also published in the fall issue of Previews membership magazine.

I’m obsessed with making something that matters. I’m obsessed with working. And I believe that it is only through hard work that good work is made.

One of the most important things to me has always been to keep my hands moving, to keep making things. I worry about what I make and what it means after I make it.  I also used to think that talking about art, especially your own art, ruins it. That’s partly why I dropped out of art school. But I’ve softened on that in recent years, which is maybe a result of having gone to art school. I do talk here and there about my work and hope it won’t ruin anything, but instead reveal a bit about the way I’m thinking, at least in the moment.

Overhead shot of "Whole"

For my show at the IMA I wanted to make sculptures that could stand on their own. I had previously created pieces that were sprawling and boundless and all consuming, the structures of which relied heavily on the spaces they inhabited. But this time I attempted to make sculptures that were contained, pieces that had a beginning and an end. And pieces that could be here, there, or anywhere but are themselves wherever they are and that rely only on themselves to be what they are.

There are nine stacks in the show. I used the most reductive forms of building to create mass-accumulation and repetition. My intention was to simplify my obsessive process into its most basic elements in order to reveal it, to expose the layers of building and to create a texture that is purely based on the movement of my hand making the knots.

Corner detail

People ask me if making my work is relaxing or meditative. It’s not. Working with these ropes is physically challenging. They are big and heavy and clumsy. I sweat, I curse, and I feel like I’m wrestling with an octopus.  There is a sense of accomplishment in overcoming a physical challenge. It is through endurance, and an intense level of psychological commitment and invariance that we push through the toughest of times. There is always a struggle and there are always challenges. I am fueled by the desire to overcome them.

Orly and Joe

We all have a need to flex. Whether it’s showing off our biceps and inflating our chest or wearing high heels and feathers in our caps, we want to be bigger. We want to be better.  My work attempts to deal with the hyperbolic nature of this survival tendency. Each stack is named after a different Mr. Universe champion from the ‘60s and ‘70s. They are not my heroes, but they are big men.

There are also moments of lightness, of fragility and gentleness. I like to pretend I am a boxer dishing out a bloody beating followed by a ballerina dancing with my toes barely skimming the ground.  And then I like to imagine that my work is the product of these two people falling in love. There is precision and there is rawness. And there is the combination of the two that creates the tension that I am attracted to.

But nothing I say matters all that much. It’s what I do. I believe in action. In what I choose to leave behind. In what I take the time to devote myself to. In the end it’s the work that matters.

Danny Beyer, sporting the new IMA Blog t-shirt

The IMA joined Flickr a little late in the game, but I feel like we are really starting to use it in some interesting ways.  My colleague Despi recently created a set featuring the new IMA blog t-shirts.  You’ll be hearing more about that.  Our conversation department has been active creating individual case studies on art objects.  You can learn about a recent Thornton Dial acquisition here (complete with video), or the treatment of a Saarinen Sideboard.  It’s an interesting glimpse into some behind-the-scenes action at an art museum and a new way of discovering engaging content.  Look for more of these conservation case studies in the very near future.

2009 will bring lots of activity to the IMA, especially in 100 Acres: The Virginia B.  Fairbanks Art and Nature Park.  The Nugget Factory will be working very closely with the contemporary department to document the art installations, capturing artist interviews and developing new visitor experiences.  On Flickr, we created a set dedicated set to Type A’s involvement in this space, here (I recommend the videos).  Under development, is the official 100 Acres Flickr group.  We’re still tweaking it, but please feel free to join and contribute your photography.

IMA’s Horticulture department was kind enough to place some new signs across the beautiful IMA campus.  We often spot photographers walking our grounds and we would love to see their perspective.  I hope these signs encourage or inspire our visitors to go online and shape IMA’s presence on Flickr.  I mean that.

We really want you to get involved in Flickr

IMA blogger Noelle, also just completed a Flickr article in PREVIEWS, the publication for members of the Indianapolis Museum of Art.  I told you we love Flickr, perhaps a little obsessed.  If anyone is interested in a copy, leave a comment and I’ll send you one.

And finally, Museums and the Web will be hosting their annual conference in Indianapolis next April.  They’ve created a group requesting images of Indianapolis.  It will give conference attendees from all over the world (Australia, Japan and Holland) a chance to discover our city and check out the new airport.

I’m all Flickr’d out.  Have any Flickr ideas?  Let me know.