Commencement Bay from the North End, Tacoma, WA
Pumpkin patches, Vancouver Island, BC
First squash haul of the year from Zestful Gardens, Puyallup, WA
Cranberry harvest, Long Beach, WA
Japanese maple, Butchart Gardens, Brentwood Bay, BC
Proctor District in the rain, Tacoma, WA
St. Johns Bridge, Portland, OR
Have I mentioned that I love autumn in the Northwest?
One of the nerdy things I love most in the world is “collecting” regional nicknames for weather systems. I’ve lived in a lot of different places, and have become well acquainted with such things as the Nor’easter, the Albuquerque Low, the Alberta Clipper, and Blood Rain (which, I’ll admit, is as freaky as the name; watching rust-colored droplets fall from the sky and stain every surface—including you—is a disturbing experience).
Here we get the occasional visit from the Pineapple Express—a holiday guest from the South Pacific that overstays its welcome and eats everything in your fridge. And it thanks you with the gift of a warm bath—a gift that keeps on giving: namely, torrential rains, washed-out roads and rails, snowmelt at all but the very highest elevations, and areas of flooding which include, right at this very moment, our basement. (Not to worry; for us, at least, the rain trickles in, gathers in an interesting map of puddles, and trickles back out again when the storm subsides. And for all the well-meaning people who offer us unsolicited remodeling advice, it serves as an excellent illustration of our resolve never to have a finished basement.)
Anyway, while I concede that it made the drive more … er, interesting, the Pineapple Express served as an oddly fitting companion on my trip to Portland yesterday.
For one thing, it gave sudden and perfect context to one hilarious interpretation of a Christmas tree.
It made the bright spots glow—
and turned even the most nauseating corporate decor into a sea of color.
It got the old mental wheels turning by inviting me indoors, from a dose of crafty goodness,
to an entire museum devoted to another kind of craftiness.
And with nothing but a soggy hike waiting outside, it inspired me to take my time and have a good, long look at what I found.
It encouraged me to visit my favorite bakery—
—and warm up over a well-rounded lunch (sorry).
It gave me an excuse to duck into the best bookstore in the entire universe.
And just as daylight waned, it helped a certain somebody’s nose glow oh-so-bright.
Oh, and then, as I walked back to my car for the drive home, it made this song pop into my head. After all, paddling home in a canoe might have been a little more efficient!
After nearly a year, image-gathering for my Mt. Rainier artist book is finally coming to an end. I have a huge stack of sketches, scribbles and recorded data, and thousands upon thousands of photos to sift through. This month and next are scheduled for the all-important (and terrifying) process of Figuring Out How the Heck to Make It Work—physical mock-ups, final compositions, text-writing, etc. But before I could move on with a clear conscience, I had one last far-away location to cross off my research list: Portland. And for some reason, the stars just weren’t aligning for me.
My first attempt this summer was also my first-ever trip to the city, so I had to location-scout with a blank mental map—and when I finally found what I was looking for, it was too hazy to see anything anyway (hence the dotted line where Rainier should be). Since Portland is 140 miles away, I couldn’t just try again any old time I pleased. As the months went by, I became increasingly frustrated—the location I visited over the summer (Larch Mountain) is inaccessible in the winter, and although I had another spot in mind, my schedule and the weather (which was way harder to pin down than an open travel day!) just couldn’t find anything in common; the last few months have been typically Northwestern, with plenty of rain, fog and drear for a volcano to hide behind. Finally, last Friday, it seemed I had my chance. T-town was socked in with pea-soup fog, but since the previous day had started the same way and ended in sunshine, I decided to go for it. As I cleared the Puget lowlands and the fog lifted, I caught crystal-clear glimpses of Rainier to the east as I went, and my confidence rose. I wouldn’t know for sure until I got there, but the sunny weather seemed like it would hold. I made good time to Portland, wound my way up to Council Crest Park, jogged up to the viewpoint and faced north—
—and saw that Mt. Saint Helens didn’t get the memo. She was having her own private little weather system, blocking Rainier from view. It was a long drive home that night.
The last few days were torture. The weekend taunted me with sunny mornings and cloudy afternoons (good thing I didn’t take the bait), and the perfect weather went untested Monday and Tuesday while I taught class and kept appointments instead. By Tuesday night, I was sure I’d missed my last chance, and resigned myself to leaving Portland out of the book. But yesterday dawned cold and flawlessly clear, and I was astonished to find my calendar empty. I left the Tailor an incoherent voicemail at work (”I’m going right now! I’ll be back tonight!”) and jumped in the car. Exactly two hours and twenty-three minutes later, this is what I saw:
That’s St. Helens in front, with Rainier just peeking around her left shoulder. And in case I had any doubts about one image being worth all this trouble, Portland offered me a little bonus for the illustration that will eventually come out of this research—a compositional jewel that I could never have dreamed up on my own:
The City of Roses was still, impossibly, in bloom.
Finally, something tangible to show you! This is the point where all of the elements for my new body of work are just starting to come together. The past couple of months have been somewhat of a nail-biter—sometimes I wonder what possessed me to create twenty-six new pieces for a last-minute show. Now that the promo postcards (see above) are in hand and I can see the finish line, however, I can tell that my instincts knew what they were doing.
Mnemonic Sampler is my new solo show, opening October 14 at the PLU University Gallery. Here are the details:
Mnemonic Sampler: An Abecedary by Chandler O’Leary
October 14 to November 11
University Gallery, Ingram Hall
Pacific Lutheran University, Tacoma, WA
Opening Reception: Wednesday, October 14, 5-7 pm
Open Monday – Friday, 8 am – 4 pm
For more information, call 253.535.7573 or email soac [at] plu [dot] edu
On display will be something of a room-sized artist book, consisting of twenty-six hand-embroidered monoprints on calico (a monoprint is the opposite of an edition, a one-of-a-kind piece). Together the prints form an abecedary, or alphabet, and tell the story of how our concepts and ideals of “Home” are linked to the everyday objects that surround us. More on this topic when the show opens, but for now, here’s a peek (since the work is not quite finished, a peek is all I’ve got for now):
Many, many thanks to the talented and infinitely helpful Katie Skovholt at PLU, who took care of having show postcards printed and mailed (!), orchestrated every logistic detail, and who has made the whole process as smooth as pumpkin pie. I would have long since lost my mind if it weren’t for you, Katie!
Speaking of amazing women who run galleries, another big thank-you and shout-out to Laura Russell of 23 Sandy Gallery in Portland, for featuring End of the Line on the promo materials for another new show that opens tonight. Broadsided! is national, juried exhibition of letterpress broadsides featuring the work of thirty-four artists. Here are the details from the 23 Sandy website:
Broadsided! The Intersection of Art and Literature
October 2-31, 2009
23 Sandy Gallery
623 NE 23rd Avenue
Portland, OR 97232
Opening reception: Friday, October 2, 6-9 pm
Open Thursday-Saturday 12-6 pm and by appointment
Before books, before blogs and before broadcasts, there were broadsides. Historically, single sheet broadsheet posters were ephemeral in nature. They were developed in the fifteenth century for royal proclamations, official notices and even advertisements. Today, broadsides hang at the intersection of art and literature. Letterpress printed broadsides are valued as fine art designed and printed by a true craftsperson; but also as fine literature featuring stellar poetry or prose.
The best part about the Broadsided! exhibit is that you don’t have to be local to see it! Laura has set up a fantastic online catalogue of the work in the show, with photos and the complete text from each broadside. Nothing beats seeing art in person, of course, but if you can’t make it to Portland this fall, this is a brilliant alternative.
Thank you for all the Harriet Tubman love! I’m still up to my eyeballs in orders to fill, so this’ll be a quick one to let you know about some events coming up on the calendar.
Tacoma is for Lovers!
This Sunday, August 23, is the third Tacoma is for Lovers benefit craft fair—this time we’ll be part of the North 21st St. Bridge Fest, here in T-town. We’ll be setting up shop from 2-6 pm at Source Yoga. I’ll have a table, with Harriet Tubman, prints and cards, and some new birds (see above) in tow. Stop by and say hello!
Design by Amy Redmond
Wayzgoose!
It’s time for Seattle’s answer to the Wayzgoose festival! The School of Visual Concepts is hosting the party, and it promises to be extra-super spectacular, with a letterpress marketplace, print demos, equipment swap, and of course the star of the show: Steamroller Smackdown! Jessica and I are sitting this one out, but we will have a table in the marketplace, and the weather should be better than it was at the March Wayzgoose, so let your inner printer’s devil out to play! Saturday, August 29, 1-6 pm, at 500 Aurora Ave. North, Seattle.
Maritime Fest!
The friendly folks at the Commencement Bay Maritime Fest asked me to design this year’s poster. It was an absolute blast of a project, and even more fun to see plastered all over Tacoma. The party is taking over the docks on August 29-30, 10 am – 6 pm, along the Thea Foss Waterway here in T-town. And speaking of Thea, Jessica and I have entered the very last copy of Tugboat Thea in the Maritime Fest juried art exhibition, which runs through September 13. Come see Thea in her spiffy new frame, and wish us luck!
Bumbershoot!
Last year I fulfilled a personal dream by finally attending the infamous Bumbershoot Festival in Seattle (Neko Case, you were fantastic. Just sayin’). This year, I guess I’m shootin’ the moon, because I get to be part of the action! I’ll be helping out at the Seattle Center for Book Arts booth in the Indie Market (located just outside Key Arena; you can download a festival map here) on Saturday, September 5, from 11-4 pm. We’ll be practicin’ and preachin’ (and selling!) the book arts to a whole new choir, so come check it out.
Space-age letterpress in Seattle!
Ever wanted to try your hand at letterpress printing? This fall I’ll be teaching the techniques behind End of the Line, Victory Garden, Versailles, and other pieces at the School of Visual Concepts in Seattle. This class will combine the latest digital applications, old-school printing equipment, and good old hand-drawing, and will push the envelope of what letterpress can do. This ain’t your grandpa’s style of printing—unless your grandpa signs up, that is!
Digital Design Meets Letterpress Printing
Ten Mondays, Sept. 28 – Dec. 14, 2009*, 6:30 – 9:30 p.m.
School of Visual Concepts, Seattle, WA
For more information on the class, look here.
*(no class on Columbus Day, Monday, Oct. 12)
Tricksy bookbinding in Portland!
Who says books aren’t meant to be toys? In October I’ll be traveling to the lovely Portland, Oregon to teach the Jacob’s Ladder binding at 23 Sandy. This is the structure used in my last artist book, The Faery Gardener, and a replica of the famous children’s toy. This binding is is so tricky it’ll make your head spin, and so devilishly simple it’ll blow your mind. If you’ve ever been tempted to rip one apart to see what makes it tick, this class is for you. Come build your very own from scratch, on Sunday, October 4, from 12-4 pm. You can read more and register for the class here.
