The Making of “Farm to Table”: Serving
Packing always begins on the last laundry day before the trip. Pieces of clothing I know I want to land in my suitcase don’t make it back into the closet or drawers, piling up instead on the bedroom sofa like potential players awaiting their turn to read at a casting call. My suitcase holds a finite amount of clothing; and while I’m looking for variety and interest, harmony is the priority.
The vestiges of making for the Farm to Table series, which will fill my next solo exhibition at a local coffee shop, still litter my worktable in hopes I can eek out one more collage from the torn bits of green, red, gray and blue paintings. I’ve already made nearly twice as many as there is space to hang. While I’ve held firm with my concept for this project since starting it several months ago, I’ve been refining. Pieces produced during an art class where I’ve learned new techniques to work incrementally larger have unexpectedly changed the trajectory. It’s safe to say that many of the collages I’ve made since landing on the theme for this exhibition and were certain would hang in this space will not make it in simply because the chemistry isn’t there with the newer, bolder pieces.
What I love about a solo show is it offers the unparalleled opportunity to make it entirely my own. Unlike group exhibitions, I’m not responding to a call around a prescribed theme, limited by size restrictions, or at the mercy of the curators for placement of my pieces. I can use the space to tell a story; a screenplay I get to write with a cast I get to choose. I began planning this exhibition before all the pieces were made, starting with a core group of compositions from my drives through the plains. The research I do to seek out thematic and authentic terminology when naming pieces brought to light new subject matter for compositions I hadn’t imagined initially. The story builds throughout the making process, each informing the other.
Farm to Table is a whimsical, abstract collection. Created in response to the boundless beauty of farmland experienced while driving to and from my son’s home, it’s a story about the many ways farms harness natural resources to support life told through a single repeating shape representing iconic farm imagery: the face of a windmill pumping water, the crown of a tree shading a barn, a bale serving up hay in the pasture, a root vegetable breaking ground, the sunrise following the crack of dawn.
From the postcard announcement I design and print, to a summary paragraph explaining why and how I made the work, making the pieces and preparing to hang a solo exhibition brings clarity to how I talk about the series I’m showing. It’s the culmination of all the other stages in the making process. Different than a new piece quietly entering my inventory behind the curtain, the bright lights of an exhibition offer the freedom to exploit unity within the collection. With the installation, it’s my job to serve the art as succinctly as possible; to guide with my intentions while at the same time inviting viewers to exercise their own prowess about art; to let the art speak to them.
Like the suitcase I’m packing for a vacation abroad, each piece I choose to include needs to work with the entire collection while holding its own. And that’s the magic in all of us, standing in harmony with what makes us the same while standing out as individuals with what makes us different.