I know it isn’t summer yet but I am looking forward to it. I started Spring off with my yearly Easter show and coming up very soon will be the Lake Scugog Studio Tour: May 6 and 7.
This is new for me. I am hoping it will give those a chance who missed my Easter show to see my latest work and enjoy spring in Utica.
I will be spending the summer on more boats, angels and the Tree of Life. All here in Utica. There is an exciting commission in the works which might be interesting to document as it progresses. And remind me (whoever you are) to tell you about Billy Parker. I need to write about him ASAP. (Speaking of angels.) Here are a few pics of new work:
Keep your eyes open for my subtle new street number sign when you come by:
Oh my goodness, what a trip! I spent this summer making art at an artist residency in Italy and looking at art and architecture in London, Malta, Sicily and Naples. I am currently in a two-person show in Toronto in which I begin to process everything. My part of the show is called “taking wing”. Below are some of my images from the show, in invitation and my artist statement. The opening is this Thursday November 10, 2016. Join us!
Neapolitan Traveling Mercy
Traveling Mercy: Palermo
Fishing Boat (Malta)
San Michele in San Potito
Traveling Mercy: Sicily
Traveling Mercy: Caltagirone
I did take wing recently. Most of the small work here is the initial unpacking of my summer’s trip to southern Italy and Malta (bracketed coming and going by the Sainsbury wing in London’s National Gallery).
I was awestruck, of course by the ‘angels in the architecture’: an intimate polychromed sculpture of San Michele the Archangel in a private chapel in San Potito; Caravaggio’s pigeon-winged angels in Naples; the cherubim and seraphim holding up the corners of the cathedral in Monreale. There were marvellous and exquisite wings everywhere–sometimes real ones. In some windy towns like Caltagirone, white feathers flew constantly like snow. I don’t know why.
I call my winged pieces ‘traveling mercies’. That phrase is stolen and only slightly misused. Thirty years ago in the local Baptist church, men in terrible brown suits bellowed prayers thanking special speakers for coming and asking God to grant them ‘traveling mercies’ (protection on their journey home). It was an eye-roller even then and I like to reimagine ‘traveling mercies’ as actual creatures: guardian angels on the road. I certainly met some and am thankful.
Another way of taking wing is by boat. I was taken by a series of little blue docked fishing boats in Malta. Looking from the boardwalk above they were dreamy altars or shuttered windows as well as boats obviously (Dghajsa in Maltese). They inspired my sardine can boats, packed accordion style with important art, mysterious messages and other supplies. More than you’ll ever need. More than you can ask or imagine.
Lynne McIlvride: Storm Seller
After re-reading my artist’s statement, I am reminded that there is so much more to process that deeply moved me and inspired me… I’ve barely scratched the surface. Aside from the wondrous beauty I found in the art and architecture, there were very wonderful and helpful people in each part of my journey. These meetings and their significance will slowly seep into my artwork. Regine in Malta, Phyllis in Palermo, Angelica & Gilda in Caltagirone, Anna in San Potito. There are many more and unless they read this, only I know their significance. Anyway, Here are some random wonders.
I am not in control of this creative process. Not really. I seem to be coming to a comical conclusion to the tornado tragedy. My constructed paintings of cats are no longer sleeping, but catapulted. The cat falls headfirst, fighting against the gravity of the situation but if it twists a certain way, it will land on its feet. The evolution of a metaphor appears to be inevitable in hindsight and totally unexpected in real time.
In Hounds of Love, Kate Bush sang, “…take my shoes off /and throw them in the lake/ and I’ll be two steps on the water.” Painting cats landing on their feet is an act of faith, among other things. Spinning in a tornado, I am not always convinced that I will land on my feet but I will go ahead and trust God and trust the creative process and my inner voice and make these crazy images and surely it’s like throwing my shoes on the water: not a shoe-in but a step in the right direction.