The Blackbird Exhibit

cheryldineenferrin — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 19:02:15 +0000

Today I am working on my pieces for the exhibit sponsored by the Fiber Artists Coalition. www.fiberartistscoalition.com
The group of fourteen artists proposed a traveling exhibit inspired by a Wallace Stevens poem. As soon as I read VII, I knew what my composition would be. In 1998, not long after we moved to Michigan and ages before those fun little iPod ads, my dear husband took a rather unflattering Polaroid of me cleaning the kitchen. Uh, yeah. I wasn’t having any of that at the moment so I confiscated the Polaroid, grabbed a black Sharpie and proceeded to completely blacken my image. I was intrigued by the abstract nature of the silhouette but not interested in maintaining the hyper-realism of the background. As with many things, I needed to give myself time (11 years?) and opportunity to realize the direction of the artwork. There is a “glow” around the figures which is yet to come. The works are created from my hand-dyed silks and a black commercially-dyed silk noil (raw silk).
The first venue for the exhibit will be the Gov. French Gallery in Belleville, Illinois. This is a lovely gallery. Regrettably, I am unable to attend the opening as it conflicts with SOFA (Sculpture Objects Functional Art) Chicago in early November. Here are the works – currently under construction – that I am sending to the exhibit and the poem that inspired them.

Cheryl Dineen Ferrin, Blackbirds at Her Feet, diptych each 45x36 inches

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Wallace Stevens
I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

Interview 2 » Blackbirds

The Blackbird Exhibit