Exo

Ayala Serfaty was born in Tel Aviv in 1962 and studied Fine Art in the Bezalel Academy of Art and Design in Jerusalem. She was the recipient of the America- Israel Cultural Foundation Scholarship to Middlesex Polytechnic in England where she concluded her BFA. Over time her style and interests became more rooted in design practice and in 1994 Ayala founded 'Aqua Creations' with her photographer husband Albi Serfaty. 'Aqua Creations' was founded with the aim of creating lighting and furniture that melded advanced technology with organic design.





Serfaty has been working on a project since 2002 that has lead to the development and creation of sculpture/lighting called Soma. The word Soma comes from the Greek word for body and the structures are composed of glass and polymer-skin. Layer upon layer of transparent glass create the 'frame' that gives the structure depth. Polymer is sprayed over this to create a skin.




The video below shows how a Soma structure is built and assembled.

Serfaty states that "Soma's structure is composed of 'lamp-worked' layers of tinted transparent glass veins that create both depth and surface. A clear membrane-like skin is webbed over the glass structure. Both materials are extremely fragile. Their symbiotic relationship creates a strong spatial structure, merging the two materials into a new specificity. Soma illuminated objects explore the interaction created between the glass structure and the skin, and the relativity of coverage to visible depth. The practice of Soma evolves from one piece to the next. Each of these pieces explores ways to transform calligraphy into texture and into structure. In each piece various particular relationships are created between the surface, light, and shade. The configurations show a more abstract authenticity of the Soma practice, a form created by free drawing in space, captured like a frozen moment of existence."


To see more work from Ayala Serfaty and from Aqua Creations check out the following links:

http://www.ayalaserfaty.com/

http://www.aquagallery.com/

Libidinous

http://www.galtmacdermot.com/

Unforgettable Part 2: Sojourner Truth

The woman who eventually became Sojourner Truth was born Isabella Baumfree. One of 13 children, she was born in 1797 on the Colonel Johannes Hardenbergh estate. Her parents Elizabeth and James Baumfree were slaves on the estate in Swartekill which was a Dutch settlement in upstate New York. Isabella spoke only Dutch until she was sold from her family around the age of nine. She was sold along with a herd of sheep to John Neely for $100. Neely's family only spoke English and beat Isabella constantly for frequent miscommunication. It was during this time that she found refuge in religion and started to pray aloud when she was scared or hurt. Over the next few years she was sold a number of times and endured horrific treatment at the hands of her owners.



Circa 1815 she fell in love with a fellow slave named Robert. Robert's owner forbade the relationship. He did not want his slave having children with a slave he did not own as this would mean that he would not own the new 'property'. Robert visited Isabella but was followed by his owners who beat him savagely, bound him and dragged him away. She never saw him again. Isabella bore Robert a daughter whom she named Diana. In 1817 Isabella was forced by her owner to marry an older slave named Thomas. They had four children: Peter, James, Elizabeth, and Sophia.

In 1799 the state of New York began to legislate the gradual abolition of slavery; which actualized on July 4th 1827. Isabella's owner at the time, Dumont, had promised her freedom before the state emancipation on the condition "she would do well and be faithful." She did so but he claimed a hand injury had made her less productive and used this as an excuse to renege on his promise of freedom. She was angry but continued to work until she had completed enough labour to quell her sense of obligation to him. She escaped with Sophia and later spoke of the incident "I did not run off, for I thought that wicked but I walked off, believing that to be all right."

In 1827, New York law emancipated all slaves and she went to work for the family of Isaac Van Wagenen. While working for Van Wagenen she discovered that a member of the Dumont family had sold one of her children to slavery in Alabama. As her son had been emancipated under New York law, she sued with the aid of a quaker family and was successful in freeing him. It was around this time that she became more immersed in religion. In 1843 she took the name Sojourner Truth, believing this to be on the instructions of the Holy Spirit and became a traveling preacher. Sojourner made a lasting impression-physically strong and over six feet tall, she also had a powerful, booming voice

In the late 1840s she connected with the abolitionist movement and became a popular speaker. In 1850 she also became involved with woman suffrage and became famous for a speech she delivered at the 1851 Women's Convention in Akron, Ohio

"Ain't I A Woman?"

"Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's all this here talking about?

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women's rights or Negroes rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn't you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him. If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say. "

Truth met Harriet Beecher Stowe, who wrote about her for the Atlantic Monthly and wrote a new introduction to her autobiography 'The Narrative of Sojourner Truth'. During the Civil War she raised food and clothing contributions for black regiments and met Abraham Lincoln at the White House in 1864. Whilst she was there, she tried to challenge the discrimination that segregated street cars by race.

After the Civil War ended she again spoke widely-mainly to white audiences and mostly on the topics of religion, African American and women's rights. She remained active until 1875 when her health started to deteriorate. She died in a sanitorium in 1883 due to infected ulcers on her legs and was buried in Battle Creek, Michigan.

The Narrative of Sojourner Truth

Fecund

This is the female form,
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor,
all falls aside but myself and it,
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, and what
was expected of heaven or fear'd of hell, are now consumed,
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response
likewise ungovernable,
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all
diffused, mine too diffused,
Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling
and deliciously aching,
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of
love, white-blow and delirious nice,
Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh'd day.

This the nucleus--after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the
outlet again.

Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the
exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

The female contains all qualities and tempers them,
She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,
She is all things duly veil'd, she is both passive and active,
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.

As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness,
sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.


Excerpt from 'I Sing The Body Electric' by Walt Whitman

Integument

Derick Melander is an American artist whose work mainly consists of large geometric structures made of clothing. Melander was born in Saratoga Springs, New York in 1964. Over the years he has a vast wealth of experience in numerous fields: an Associate Degree in Communications from Elizabeth Seton College in NY allowed him to study music programming, film making, acting and graphic design.

Upon graduation he moved to Philadelphia where he sang in a band and worked as an assistant to the artist Jerry Goodman for a few years. After moving to NYC in 1987, he taught nursery school and continued playing music. He earned a B.F.A. in 1994 from The School of Visual Arts and continues to make art from his studio.


His pieces (usually in the form of wedges,walls and columns) are constructed from precisely stacked second-hand clothing that can weight up to two tons. Melander states "As clothing wears, fades, stains and stretches it becomes an intimate record of our physical presence. It traces the edge of the body, defining the boundary between the individual and the outside world. The clothing used for these works is folded to exact dimensions and attention is paid to the ordering of the garments. For example, the sequence can relate to the way we layer the clothing we wear or the clothing can be sorted by color, gender or by the order that it was received."

"Individual components are often connected together with shirt sleeves, pant legs and belts forming bridge-like appendages. For me, the process of folding and stacking the individual garments adds a layer of meaning to the finished piece. When I come across a dress with a hand-sewn repair, or a coat with a name written inside the collar, the work starts to feel like a collective portrait. As the layers of clothing accumulate, the individual garments are compressed into a single mass, a symbolic gesture that explores the conflicted space between society and the individual, between the self and the outside world. "

http://www.derickmelander.com/

Elapse

"This fall I think you're riding for - it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started."

J.D. Salinger (1919-2010)

from 'The Catcher in the Rye'

Vincire

There will be some happy endings
There'll be dreams that don't come true
But in the times ahead, there's love and hate and hope and dread coming
All and all, in makes it that much harder for you, yeah
I know you're worried - I'm worried too

But if you're ready, I'm here to fall with you...

Ownership vs. Embodied Knowledge

"There are likewise three kinds of dancers: first, those who consider dancing as a sort of gymnastic drill, made up of impersonal and graceful arabesques; second, those who, by concentrating their minds, lead the body into the rhythm of a desired emotion, expressing a remembered feeling or experience. And finally, there are those who convert the body into a luminous fluidity, surrendering it to the inspiration of the soul."

Isadora Duncan

Image of Martha Graham: "Letter to the World (Kick)" by Barbara Morgan

Paradise Circus (NSFW)

One of the shit things about not blogging regularly over the past 8 weeks: there is now a backlog of links/videos/music/art that i need to shift through and share with you. In the meantime the video above has whet my appetite for the forthcoming Massive Attack album 'Heligoland' , which is due for release on February 8th . It's atmospheric, edgy, beautifully lit and shot and definitely NSFW. Directed by Toby Dye and featuring frank observations by Georgina Spelvin who starred in the 70's film The Devil in Miss Jones.

http://www.massiveattack.com/

Realisation

"Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option"

Mark Twain

Unforgettable Part 1: Vali Myers

With flame red hair, heavily kohled eyes and tattoos curling around her lip, Vali Myers cut a striking figure. Born in 1930 to a violinist mother and marine officer father Vali displayed a talent for art at an early age. The family moved to Melbourne from Sydney, Australia in 1941 and Vali left home at 14. After working in factories she became immersed in dance and later became the leading dancer for the Melbourne Modern Ballet Company.

She travelled to Paris at the age of 19 to follow her dream of dancing for a living. She had not anticipated a city completely ravaged by war. The stark poverty of Paris in 1949 was a shock, money was scarce and jobs were almost impossible to find. Vali began living in the Latin Quarter of Saint Germain des Pres on the Left Bank with the rest of the displaced. She lived on the street, survived on bread and milk and carried a knife for protection.

"It was a rough and tough time...there was nothing romantic about it. We didn't hang out in the cafes because it was hip - we didn't have anywhere else to go...dancing kept me alive. I saw so many of my friends die"

Her dancing and haunting face became well known in the city amongst the bohemian set. Photographer Ed van der Elsken made Vali the main subject of a series of photographs, documenting bohemian life in Paris and featuring some of her art that was published in 'Love on the Left Bank' in 1958. Van der Elsken said "Vali, the incredible super freak lives a funny life. We all know that she was the most far out bohemian, hippie, yippie, smokey the bear. She was Vali de St.German-des-Pres; inspiration and companion of artists, eggheads, tramps and travellers. Beautiful, way out, painted like a Papua, dressed like a Gypsy, always in absolutely perfect taste."

Vali was eventually expelled from Paris in 1952 after years of constant harassment over visa papers. Authorities were trying to clear Paris of refugees and unwanted foreigners and after numerous spells in prison for vagrancy she left Paris and travelled around France, Italy, Britain, Brussels and Austria.

It was in the winter of 1952 in Vienna that Vali met Rudi Rappold, the son of a Hungarian gypsy who shared Vali's wanderlust. For three years they travelled and in an effort to keep Vali legally in Europe, they married and returned to Paris. By now Paris was an draw for a lot of artists, bohemians and Vali became friendly with philosophers and writers like Jean Paul Sartre, Jean Cocteau , Tennessee Williams and Jean Genet. It was also during this period that she became heavily addicted to opium. In an effort to kick the addiction that was slowly killing her, she left Paris for the final time.

Months later Vali and Rudi came upon the wild green valley of 'Il Porto' in Positano, Southern Italy. Positano is a small town on the Amalfi coast and the main part of the city sits in an enclave in the hills. John Steinbeck wrote that "Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn’t quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone."

Vali felt inspired and ''Il Porto' became her home. Protected by 1,000-foot cliffs, the lush and often impenetrable valley opened to the sea and wild animals roamed the hills. One animal in particular made a huge impact on her. A young vixen was found starving after her mother had been shot. Vali cared for the fox who she name Foxy and created an amazing bond with this wild creature over the next 15 years. Vali's distinctive artwork had Indian, Irish and Celtic-Pagan influences and her creativity flourished in the small moorish electricity free pavilion.

"Working under my gaslight at night when all the animals are asleep excepting Foxy and the mice - my inspiration spinning from Irish Monks to Vikings and the Never Never Land - the small fine pen nib placed on a goose feather for lightness in my hand touching the soft white paper...the silence of the great valley... my nights - a harpooned whale turns toward the sun."

The valley eventually became home to her lover Italian artist Gianni Menichetti and together they created art and cared for animals that came to the retreat. Over the years they built up a menagerie of over one hundred. It took years of battling with local police and government bureaucracy but Vali finally obtained permission to turn the valley into a wildlife sanctuary under the protection of the World Wildlife Fund and dedicated all of her money, time and energy into it's preservation.

"They wanted to get rid of me, to use the areas as a source of building materials. The Mafia are honorable gentlemen compared to the police. But I kept fighting - you have to fight for what you believe in. We have a beautiful valley - the largest owl population in Southern Italy. All of the wild animals are returning."

In 1970 she was running low on funds and in an effort to look after herself and her beloved animals, Vali travelled to New York to sell her artwork. One of the first to champion her work was Abbie Hoffman who introduced her to the Chelsea Hotel and its strange mix of inhabitants. Shortly after this Andy Warhol advised Vali to print reproductions of her work and not sell the originals. Given that each piece took her between 6 months and 2 years to complete; she was reluctant to sell her work for less than it was worth. Dali praised the quality of her work and urged her to exhibit formally. It was because of his recommendation in 1972 Vali held the first of her exhibitions in Amsterdam .

"I work on each painting for a long time, some take almost two years, so I remember them all. Most of my work uses the finest English water-color and gold leaf, but now I just work with Chinese ink and a goose feather pen nib. I'm self taught - I naturally use fine technique. I go deep into myself to be distinctive - I gave up using drugs after my youth. The art just comes out. When I feel happy I dance, when I'm sad I paint. I don't justify these feelings - I'm not a thinker. My art has a lot of pain but I'm not afraid of anything - I need to be creative. If there wasn't spirit in life, you'd be a zombie." .



In 1991 Vali suffered a series of seizures. She recovered and it was a catalyst for her returning to her native Australia in 1993. Gianni continued to care for the animals whilst she was away and she made the occasional trip back. After returning to Melbourne she opened a studio in the Nicholas building and continued to make art.

She was diagnosed with terminal cancer and true to form she faced death with the same flair that she lived life. In her final interview with 'The Age' she said "I've had 72 absolutely flaming years. It doesn't bother me at all, because, you know love, when you've lived like I have, you've done it all. I put all my effort into living; any dope can drop dead. I'm in the hospital now and I guess I'll kick the bucket here. Every beetle does it, every bird, everybody. You come into world and then you go."

Vali Myers died from cancer on 12 February 2003. Gianni continues to live in 'Il Porto' where he is fending off developers from taking over the valley.

http://www.valimyers.com/

http://www.giannimenichetti.com/

Pavilion Image: Lina Eve

Prosopon

I have been following a particular project of Vancouver artist Pamela Masik with interest for some time. 'The Forgotten' will finally be unveiled at the end of January. Consisting of 69 portaits measuring over 3 metres in height, each one depicting the women who have gone missing from the downtown eastside over the past ten years. The project has taken her over four years to complete, during this time she found herself becoming immersed in the project, suffered injury (tearing her left rotator cuff) and moved to a new 14,000 sq foot studio.


The huge canvasses incorporate personal information and materials, slashed with deep cuts and feature text, stitches and dense brushstrokes. Each portrait is a stark reminder that each of these missing women were individuals with experiences and stories; someone's mother, daughter, friend, sister or wife. It is too easy to dehumanize these women, to pigeonhole them as prostitutes, to dismiss them. Some had escaped from abusive relationships, some were drug addicts, some mentally challenged, some had families to support and few resources to do so other than prostitution. Masik immersed herself in their stories, building up details of the final sightings through their families, friends and social records.

To date 26 of the missing women have been identified as victims of Port Coquitlam pig farmer Robert Pickton. I was amazed how 69 women can go missing (presumably murdered) and outside of Canada, very little has been heard about it.


Some examples of the vanished women and the time it took for them to be noticed as missing. One of the "official" victims, 43-year-old Sherry Rail, would not be reported missing until three years after her January 1984 disappearance. Thirty-three-year-old Elaine Auerbach told friends she was moving to Seattle in March 1986 but she never arrived, reported missing in mid-April. Teressa Ann Williams, a 26-year-old Aboriginal, was last seen alive in July 1988, reported missing in March 1989. Fourteen months elapsed between the August 1989 disappearance of 40-year-old mental patient Ingrid Soet and the report to police on October 1, 1990. The first black victim, Kathleen Wattley, was 39 years old when she vanished in June 1992, reported missing on the 29th of that month.


Masik states "The intent of this work - not just creating the paintings, but the exhibition of the collection with performance and video/photography of the process - is to raise awareness of the social problem inherent within our society. I believe that because these women were of high risk groups and of marginalized communities, they were already forgotten - they did not exist in society's eyes.

In the future, I aim to sell this collection to a public institution and support a Social Arts Initiative and Rehabilitation Program for disadvantaged groups. It is our collective responsibility to empower individuals to heal and grow, and live a self-sustaining, healthy lifestyle. "

http://www.theforgotten.ca/

Last Image and Forgotten poster: Melissa Gidney

Exert

“Then this blonde, about 19, with rimless glasses and a smile walked up. The smile never left. “I want to fuck you,” she said. “It’s your face.”

“What about my face?”

“It’s magnificent. I want to destroy your face with my cunt.”

“It might be the other way around.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

“You’re right. Cunts are indestructable.”

Image: Diane Arbus

Carillon

As time and age distill me, i am fortunate to have people in my life who speak their minds and are unafraid of hurling themselves into new experiences. Bright pops of color amid a grey landscape.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

Jack Kerouac