A Wedding Song

The Damsels in Distress were asked to play a song at the Lockehart wedding at Grace Church. M and I decided to play  “Mr. and Mrs.”, from album, “Spinning Plates.”

photo 1

photo 3

“Mr. and Mrs.” was originally titled “Mr. and Mrs. Epperson.” We wrote the song in response to being asked to play a song at the Epperson wedding. We later shortened the title to “Mr. and Mrs.” so that it could be used in a more general sense for many wedding lovers.

“Mr. and Mrs.” is about the wedding and the marriage of two lovers.

Mr. and Mrs.
Your lovely heart’s bold
To love someone like me
Who sees this life in the only way to be free.
“I do” forever.

We’ll make the changes.
We’ll say what needs to be said.
And then we’ll do them in our hearts and our heads.

With this ring, I thee wed to be true love to be true.
With this ring, I thee wed to be true love to be true.
To be true.

So would you join me?
Soon our flesh will be one.
We’ll live together forever and forever.

“I do” forever.

 

Our friends Doug and Sue Mary from Family Life took this video and sent to us. Thanks Doug and Sue!

 

Printmaking Workshop Part III

In the Printmaking Workshop Part II, we left everyone’s linoleum block carved, stored, and ready to print.

I covered the tables with paper and handed out (with my lovely assistant Barbara Jones) printing paper, envelopes, palette paper for ink, ink, brayers, wooden spoons, paper towels, stamps, and an ink pad.

Everyone put their aprons back on and I gave an inking and printing demonstration.

Romania Day 4 (101)

The printing process just took some getting used to, but everyone did a great job! They rolled the ink on the palette paper (which next time, I would just use cardboard strips instead of palette paper because the palette paper is pretty thin and shifts a lot when rolling out the ink). They rolled the inked brayer evenly onto their carved linoleum blocks, and transferred their image using a wooden spoon (rubbing the back of the paper on top of the block using the flat of the wooden spoon).

Romania Day 4 (110) Romania Day 4 (109) Romania Day 4 (105)

Once the prints were a bit dry, they stamped inside of their cards.

  
 

I had 4 out of 12 participants finish their blocks the whole way through.

Romania Day 4 (130) Romania Day 4 (127) Romania Day 4 (125) Romania Day 4 (122)

Some of the finished prints!

Romania Day 4 (112) Romania Day 4 (111)

We took our “artist” picture together.


Romania Day 4 (140)

Photos: Courtesy of Jessica Zimmerman Belote

Printmaking Workshop Part II

I made it to Romania with my suitcase full of supplies.

20140708-103125-37885689.jpg IMG_2387

In Printmaking Workshop Part I, I talked about the supplies needed for the printmaking/artisan card making workshop. Now I had arrived, and I was ready to teach how to make prints, and had willing and eager participants. I even had some guys in my class, which was a great surprise!

10506880_10152520639762500_4163692444128566755_o 10379949_10152520637622500_5353777700624859131_o

I (and my assistant Barbara Jones) handed out everyone’s aprons (courtesy of Sara Bowyer, Stephanie Sue McDonald Baker, Beckie Sudduth, Maryann Baroody, Anita Davis, Mindy Clark, and Denise Nesbitt), drawing pencils (2b), erasers, pencil sharpeners, transfer pencils (6b), sharpie markers, drawing paper, tracing paper, linoleum blocks, and linoleum cutters.

Romania Day 2 (15) Romania Day 2 (19)

I instructed participants to draw the outline of the linoleum block and to draw an image inside of the block outline on their drawing paper. For those who were not comfortable drawing, I had some drawings made up that they could trace.

Romania Day 2 (16) Romania Day 2 (82)
Romania Day 2 (66) Romania Day 2 (59)

Once they drew their images, they transferred them to tracing paper.

Romania Day 2 (25) Romania Day 2 (39)
 Romania Day 2 (36) Romania Day 2 (45)
Romania Day 2 (67) Romania Day 2 (52)

They flipped the drawing on the tracing paper to transfer the pencil marks onto the linoleum block.

Romania Day 2 (50) 10348392_10152224685607549_7971259726329105659_n Romania Day 2 (77)

Once the image was backwards on the linoleum block, they went over their image using a sharpie marker.

Romania Day 2 (72) Romania Day 2 (81)
Romania Day 2 (144)

At this point I demonstrated the proper way to cut (away from your hand and yourself at all times). I assisted in cutting.

Romania Day 2 (140) Romania Day 2 (141)
Romania Day 2 (139) Romania Day 2 (142)
Romania Day 2 (145)
Romania Day 2 (143) Romania Day 4 (134)

Once everyone’s blocks were cut, we cleaned up our work space and stored the finished blocks for the next session (the printing).

workshop workshop2 Romania Day 2 (79)

Photos: Courtesy of Jessica Zimmerman Belote

It’s uninteresting, but is it…art?

Damien Hirst The Dream, 2008

Damien Hirst
The Dream, 2008

When one thinks too long about art, the act of writing or painting or composing for an audience, even if that audience is never manifest, the act itself assumes all of its oddity, and embodies its queer position as both foundational to existence and utterly irrelevant. There is no question that, without art’s dialogue in chronological time, life as human subject could not exist as it does. We would have no record of our language in past epochs, no idea what conflicts our ancestors faced, no appreciation for manipulation of material to make buildings, technology, or even medicine. Art has been used as a catch-all term for the things which comprise the collective consciousness of a community. Without the memory function enabled by our cultural production, then, we would be a people without a past, and because artists construct reality, without it we would be a people with no future (in the temporal, narrative-based way we understand that term).

And yet, despite art being the vehicle for “culture” in the broadest sense (of human-centric life), the individual instances of art can appear so arbitrary, non-sensical, and even boring to most people who don’t know or care to know what it is. Indeed, even to someone literate in one of cultural production’s many artistic dialogues, if presented with an unfamiliar work out of context, may find it uninteresting, silly, and worthless.

I recently overheard two adolescents on a first date debate whether women should be allowed to wear baseball caps. Art can sound like that. Not every conversation is relevant or mature. Additionally, an academic once spent 45 minutes explaining to me Deleuze’s concept of the rhizomatic. Not every conversation is necessary. We can fool ourselves into thinking certain topics are important, but they quickly become dated. Not every pop song endures. It depends on the power of expression, and the relevance of the articulation.

These problems of art are metonym for the awkward, and even humiliating, position of human life: Can we honestly say that our culture, which is foundational to human existence, is worthwhile? Is it worth the time and effort it takes to preserve and perpetuate it?

Take a look around at the people today. Not the ones you hear about or idolize, but the ones you know intimately. Consider the things they do—make money and spend it, like things on facebook, take pictures of food at restaurants, throw plastic into the ocean, yell at customer service representatives, play games on their phones, buy dogs with smushed faces, protest at abortion clinics, sign petitions for legislation, wear make-up, get hair cuts, try on clothes, get tattoos, drink beer, visit monuments, comment on YouTube, and talk about people they know. Consider all of it and more: humanity as it is, of the things they spend time on, what they talk about, murders they commit and reasons they give for committing them. Think of yourself living with them, and take stock of all the ways you spend your time. After long contemplation, which person would like to tell me humanity—not in the abstract, but in its everyday actions—is indispensible or important? Who wants to bleat at me that our culture is worthy of preservation, perhaps so we can enjoy its excellent shopping?

If you aspire to more than present humanity can give, you must work for it. Not just in art, but within specific and local communities, engaging the people in your everyday life.

For let’s not pretend that art can do more than the culture it arises from. Human beings are condition and will, and though the will is strong, it cannot completely dismiss its surroundings. If art appears silly, it could be that you are looking at the expressive equivalent of the adolescent debating women in baseball caps. But, equally, it could be that you are that adolescent, and maturity will make the object in question more meaningful.

Matt Siemer
Contributor