Monday, November 29, 2010

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Thursday, November 18, 2010

A world made of paper





Sherri McDonald says she's an artist with a paper problem.
"I have an addiction to paper - I make books or do art so I can buy more paper."
Luckily, McDonald's paper landscapes and her company, Paper Mountain Studio, have been well-received, allowing her to keep the addiction alive. Her intricate landscapes are made using scraps of colored and textured paper that are bound by non-toxic adhesive. Two of her pieces, "Blueberry Hill" and "Douglas Harbor," were selected for the All Alaska Juried Art Show in 2008. She has a show at Annie Kaill's opening Dec. 3, for Gallery Walk, and is working toward a solo show opening March 4 at the Juneau Arts & Culture Center.
When she isn't preparing for a show, McDonald is known as "Wild Bird" on Juneau's Roller Derby team.
Drawn to paper
McDonald received her undergraduate degree in art at the University of Minnesota, with a focus on printing and papermaking. After graduating, she apprenticed for three months with Japanese-style bookbinder Karen Saro in Washington state, whom she met at a Saturday market in Oregon.
"I fell in love with bookbinding during the apprenticeship and the craft - it just connected," said McDonald. "It's the physical act of tearing the paper and laying it down that connects to me, I guess I'm more of a physical artist."
She began creating landscape collages for her book covers, but soon became hooked on bigger works.
"That's when I started to challenge myself and do more complicated collages."
McDonald said the art form combines aspects of two- and three-dimensional work.
"Paper is like sculpture and drawing at the same time," she said. "It's two-dimensional but at the same time there's a three-dimensional quality to it because you are cutting and shaping it. It's very forgiving - you can layer it."
Creating space
After apprenticing with Saro, McDonald moved to Austin, Texas to work in a hand bindery. She met her husband, Mick, in Austin, and he got a job in Juneau two days after their wedding. While shopping for houses, McDonald and her husband agreed they had to find a home with a studio and a garage.
"We weren't going to stop until we found a place that would offer both," she said.
They found a place with a large basement crawl space on Douglas Island that fit the bill, but it took another two years before renovations began and about eight more months before they were complete.
"It was just a basement when we moved in. It was very dungeon-esque with dirt floors, visqueen, plywood and a single light bulb."
The project accelerated when her father, who came out to help during the birth of their second child, ended up doing electrical work and installing sheetrock. They used gravel to raise the floor, put in floor heat and concrete and had stairs put in.
Now the studio has a large window overlooking Gastineau Channel providing natural light.
"It's great as a landscape artist to be able to look out at a gorgeous landscape that's constantly changing."
McDonald says she uses her art to deal with the dark winters and wet weather.
"Part of the reason I do the art I do is to help me get through the winters, and a view helps me see the beauty during weather that normally makes me depressed. If you capture that weather in art, then it becomes something different, it isn't your enemy as much."
Having a separate studio also allows her to flourish in a home with two young children.
"I like to come down and work on things and then leave things and know that I will find things exactly as I left them. I don't have to clean stuff up every time I walk away."
The creative process
McDonald says her time in her studio is not always productive. She sometimes procrastinates by pacing, checking e-mail, and figuring out music to play while she waits for inspiration to strike.
"In the beginning of a project you are filled with uncertainty, you don't know exactly what you want to do, whether it is going to be a good choice and worth spending any effort on or not. At a certain point you just have to say, 'Okay, go for it.'"
Once she has an idea, she starts to give it form before it eventually takes off.
"When it starts to come together - after making critical early moment decisions which are the hardest - if you make good choices, then it starts to take on its own life. Everything seems more clear, where you are going to go next ... it's just a flow from the brain to the paper or to the art."
The challenges
Although McDonald's art is primarily done in her studio, where she has a 16-drawer flat file filled with all types of paper, she has gone out with Juneau's Plein Rein artist group - with mixed results.
"Any bit of wind blows the paper away, if it's raining it gets wet. But there's a certain aesthetic to an immediate application of when you are looking at something and doing it right away that you can't really get in studios."
For those who are stuck or just starting out on their creative journey, McDonald suggests seeking out an encouraging person. For her, it was Rie and Juan Munoz, who bought McDonald's first prints to resell in their gallery. Their belief in her helped her accept that she was an artist, a major epiphany for her.
McDonald has learned that when she creates art that speaks to her and isn't created with a profit in mind it turns out better.
"For me it's really rewarding to create something that's not expected with paper, constantly trying to make it look like something beyond just a piece of paper - more of a painting. That's the challenge for me."
To read more about Sherri McDonald visit www.papermountainstudios.com.
Courtney Nelson can be reached at nelsonfamily@acsalaska.net

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Tersteeg exercises her creative muscles in new show


Alice Tersteeg has been exercising her creative muscles lately. Last month, the local artist and former University of Alaska Southeast professor of art was featured in exhibits at both the Canvas and Annie Kaill's, in two shows that highlighted her extensive influence on the arts community of Juneau. The Canvas show, which included Tersteeg's work, featured pieces by many of her former students in a variety of media, from silk screen prints to etchings. The Annie Kaill's show featured art from Tersteeg's personal collection, and was organized to raise money to help pay for large medical bills her husband incurred before he succumbed to lung cancer in July.
This month she headlines a second show at Annie Kaill's, this time featuring her own original work. The show opens Friday with a First Friday reception also celebrating the downtown gallery's 35th anniversary.
Born in northern California, Tersteeg earned a degree in art from the University of California Chico, then received her masters in fine arts from Syracuse University - in spite of her father's wishes.
"I was always interested in art and I knew it was all I wanted to do, but my father thought it wasn't a very practical career - that didn't deter me at all," said Tersteeg.
University days
Tersteeg paved the way for many more people to tap into their creative energy by creating new art degrees at UAS, including an associate of arts degree and certificate in Northwest Coast Art. It's the accomplishment she's most proud of.
"I was working to support the Northwest Coast Art program, which I started in 1983 with Dr. William Demmert," Tersteeg said. "Members of the community had come to the university to ask if the classes could be offered on a more regular basis because they were hit and miss, so we started the program."
With her help, UAS went on to offer bachelor's degrees in art, as well as degrees with an art emphasis, for a total of five art degrees.
"To me that was my biggest life goal, to provide that many opportunities for students."
The importance of art
"I think they are making a huge mistake when they start cutting art programs and music programs. These are areas of creativity that are absolutely essential for people to grow," Tersteeg said. "If you go through your life without creating artwork or always listening to other people's music instead of creating your own music, then you may be doing a disservice to yourself - there may be a lot more creativity inside you that never comes out."
While doing art is often perceived as relatively expensive, Tersteeg believes making different choices can lead to more creative endeavors.
"If you spend your money on expensive cars or expensive sound systems or talk on the phone a lot, what do you have to show for it when you are finished? If you are spending money on art supplies, you are doing yourself a lot of good for your own mental health as well as developing the creative muscle."
Early years
Tersteeg moved to Sitka in 1973 after doing graphic design in Chico. She worked for eight years at Sitka's community college before taking a job at UAS in Juneau in 1981, where she fell in love with the setting. She's lived here 35 years.
"It was the setting and the personality, and it's the size city and state where you think you can make a difference."
Tersteeg met her husband Roger, who'd moved to Juneau from Minnesota, on a blind date set up by one of her students, Joanie Dahl, who was a model for one of Tersteeg's drawing classes.
Although Tersteeg sticks primarily to landscapes and wildlife, she did a show last year titled "Chrome" which showcased her appreciation for Harley Davidson motorcycles the Pandhandlers biker club, which she says collects toys for kids and coordinates other charitable fundraisers.
Her husband Roger was a mechanic in town and he loved restored cars and liked to attend car shows like "Dip Sticks" in Juneau, which got her interested.
Lessons
Tersteeg recently suffered a huge loss - her husband died of cancer. Roger was a smoker and Tersteeg urges people to do whatever they can to help their loved ones stop smoking and to prepare for financial strain of potential illness.
"Discuss medical coverage early and often," Tersteeg said.
Her husband's Social Security did not cover the costs of emergency transportation because he was covered under Tersteeg's insurance at the time. When she retired, he was no longer fully covered.
She also advises people to look into emergency Medevac insurance with ground transportation, such as the one offered through Apollo MT for $100 a year. Airlift Northwest is another option for $79 a year that covers entire households but they don't offer coverage for ground transport. Without the insurance, the air and ground emergency transportation can cost over $50,000.
Tersteeg has been through some stressful experiences, but is doing better.
"I have a wonderful support system of friends and I would never move anywhere else because I have such wonderful friends here. There's no way to explain how important that is."
• Courtney Nelson can be reached at nelsonfamily@acsaalska.net.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Artists' spaces: Playhouse turned artist's retreat

Landscape artist Constance Baltuck's space for creating is tucked away in the Juneau flats, on a grassy plot of land next to Gold Creek with a view of Mt. Roberts from the porch. Before becoming her studio, the small house on 10th Street had been used as a getaway spot from her family's main home just a few blocks away, an arrangement she admits is unusual.

"Most people buy recreational property in Shelter Island or Mexico, but we came here everyday because it had a yard in the flats and swings in the trees," she said.

Baltuck renovated the previously abandoned house in 2006, hiring a guy to fix the holes in the ceilings and floors and to stabilize the building. She now creates her colorful paintings in the kitchen.

"I tried setting up my work space upstairs and in different corners, but it always ends up being central," Baltuck said, adding that the kitchen has the advantage of access to running water.

Baltuck has been painting and showing her work in Juneau since 1983, when she had her first show at the now closed Orpheum Theatre.

"I've shown my work once or twice a year since then, except when my children were babies, so Juneau has been really receptive to my work."

Though her paintings are based on the natural world, she allows herself plenty of room for elaboration and interpretation.

"I want it grounded in reality, because that's what makes the painting convincing, but I want a lot of freedom to play with it, because I'm an artist and if we can't do what we want with our worlds on canvas, then why bother?"

She doesn't sketch things first or recreate scenes from photographs, but rather paints things as she sees them in nature, taking her materials to different spots around Juneau. She takes creative license with her colors; most of her paintings contain bold, vibrant hues.

"I really try to paint what I see, and then the colors just sneak in and are brighter and more intense and completely unrelated to what I'm looking at, but for some reason it works," Baltuck said. "By the time I get home and look at my work, it really has no relation to what I took a picture of - it's a whole different thing. I'm not thinking 'Does it look like what I was looking at?' I'm thinking, 'Does it make a good painting?'"

From Detroit to Juneau

Baltuck was raised in Detroit, Michigan, and learned the basics of drawing at the kitchen table with her father. After her father's death, her mother hatched a plan to take the kids to all the national parks in the United States.

"We didn't do that, but we saw a heck of a lot of them, including Alaska," Baltuck said. She already had some familiarity with the state through her great aunt, who worked at the Mount McKinley Lodge in the 1950s.

"We drove here from Michigan with all the kids in a van, so it was 1967 when I first came to Juneau. It was the trip I remembered."

It took Baltuck 14 years to get back to Alaska. During that time she earned a degree in museum studies from the University of Washington and in 1981 got a job as a naturalist for the state ferry system. The job was over before it began: on the ferry to Juneau she was seasick the whole time, and ended up working for the Legislature instead.

She also worked with the U.S. Forest Service and studied botany.

"It was a combined sort of approach to study where I did a lot of work interpreting natural history," Baltuck said.

While she paints primarily Alaska scenes, she also paints when she travels. Last year, with help from a scholarship from the Juneau Arts & Humanities Council, she took her VW bus filled with blank stretch canvases to Arizona's Petrified Forest National Park, working there as an artist in residence through the National Park Service program. She stayed in an adobe house, venturing out to paint in her bus, sheltered from the harsh elements.

"It was great, I had nothing else to do but paint and really explore the park."

Baltuck, who admires artists John Singer Sargent and Claude Monet, believes painting is a luxury.

"In these days and times (being an artist) is really self indulgent," she said, "but I lead a simple life so I can paint."

Juneau's Plein Rein

Although painting is largely a solitary activity, Baltuck says it's nice to have company. She often joins Juneau's Plein Rein on their weekly excursions around Juneau. The group, founded by Barbara Craver and Pua Maunu, go out every Saturday to paint in different locations.

"It's like we hunt and gather and we come home with our prize. The fun part is going out and collecting and painting outdoors - I could do the first stage so easily forever. Then you come home and you've got to make it work. That takes time and sometimes days to finish up."

Sometimes she comes up with a painting she wouldn't show to her own mother.

"When you put that kind of energy and focus into something for days and it doesn't work, that's horrible, it's crushing," she said.

Other times she'll look back at a painting and think it wasn't so bad.

"Nowadays if I do a painting and I'm dissatisfied, I don't destroy it right away, and if there's a chance I think I might like it I'll put it away for a while. But usually if it's bad, it's just plain bad."

Occasionally she'll pull someone in to help her pinpoint a problem.

"One time we did the old trick of turning a painting upside down and there it was, three dark spots that carried your eye right off the canvas. Just by getting rid of the middle dot of color, it stabilized the painting."

Baltuck has shows scheduled at the Canvas in November and the Alaska State Museum in November 2011. In preparation for the latter, she is taking a sabbatical to devote herself as much as she can to her craft.

"One thing about being an artist is no one can tell you you've done it wrong. There's only one important judge of the work and that's the artist."

For more about Baltuck and her work, visit www.constancebaltuck.com/.

Artists' spaces in unusual places





It's a little known fact that the Viking Lounge on Front Street downtown, known for its karaoke and martinis, also houses a thriving artists' space. Upstairs, the scent of fresh-cut red and yellow cedar and alderwood leads to a small carving studio, located behind a door that reads, "Do not enter." The space is not open to the public.

Only a few carvers and artists are allowed to create here, said Viking owner Jack Tripp. In addition to the on-site carvers, about 18 artists check out supplies from the studio and work on their carvings at home, he said.

"Someone has to vouch for you - it's kind of an honor system because there's a lot of value in this shop," said Tripp, referring to the raw cedar and ivory kept under lock and key.

One Tlingit carver, Arthur Johnson, has worked pretty exclusively with Tripp over the last six years. Johnson creates scrimshaw, soapstone carvings and masks, as well as totem poles, gun grips, sketches, museum reproductions, canoes and items used in Native regalia.

"I make paddles, rattles, drums, box drums - anything Tlingit," Johnson said.

Johnson, 45, of the Kaagwaantaan in Hoonah, has six children, and has been carving and doing artwork since he was 9. The youngest of 11 children, Johnson is self-taught. He said he became interested in the artform after observing his teenage cousins carving, and now really enjoys what he does.

"I like coming to work every day, there is always something new," he said.

The carving shop is in use seven days a week, opening in the morning and closing as late as midnight. Other artists who use the space in addition to Johnson include Jason Vonda, Nick Vonda III, Dwain Price, Charles High, Browne Willard III and Milo Irish.

The artists' finished products have many different outlets, but the majority of their pieces go down the street to the Mount Juneau Trading Post, also owned by Tripp, where they are marketed to tourists and collectors.

Johnson says his most memorable piece was a legends canoe etched on a tusk commissioned by a collector.

"The look on her face and the hugs and tears said it all," he said. "It was really cool and that's what it's all about for me as an artist. We do this because we love to do it and because people really appreciate work done by Tlingits. Nobody likes to look on the bottom and see Bali or Indonesia."

In addition to Northwest Coast traditional art, Johnson is also called in to repair art knocked over by customers in the shop, a steady problem. The shop contains art made not only by Native Alaskan artists, but also by artists outside the state. Artwork made by Native Alaskans usually bears the Silver Hand symbol, featuring a silver hand and the words, "Authentic Native Handicraft from Alaska." Items made by Alaska residents who are not necessarily Native may bear a "Made in Alaska" sticker or emblem.

Tripp said that the artists who work out of the Viking space also supply the majority of the drums and paddles used in regalia for Southeast dance troupes.

"My wife is Tlingit, so she's immersed in the culture, and my daughters are dancers," Tripp said. "Her uncles are the Chiltons, who are the silver producers in town."

"We produce about 250 drums a year, an average of two drums every three days," he said. "It's a really weird niche market."

Producing art in bulk allows Tripp to focus on the expertise of each artist. For example, he may ask one artist to produce skins for the drums, and a different artist to paint them, according to dancers' specifications.

"We have blank drums, they tell us their crest and we can have it designed and made," Tripp said.

Tripp believes that by sharing the space and supplies, he is helping artists create work that might never have been attempted.

"Maybe they don't have the $50 to buy the piece of wood to make a paddle, then that piece of work never exists," he said.

Johnson agreed. "I don't have to pay for any of the materials, everything is provided for me, except for my knives, so we have no costs," he said. "Other artists have to put stuff on commission and hope that it sells that year and lose a large chunk of the profit. We don't have to worry about whether our stuff is going to sell or not. We are good at what we do and have been doing it for a long time."

A small totem pole will take Johnson about a week to finish, working eight hours a day. His scrimshaw pieces are also labor-intensive but he doesn't mind.

"I've been a tattoo artist for years, and crossing over from tattooing people to tattooing walrus tusks is about the same thing, but you don't have to worry about the walrus tusk moving, or saying 'ow' or bleeding all over you. It was a great transition for me."

Contact Courtney Nelson at nelsonfamily@acsalaska.net.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Won't you be my neighbor?

Do you know your neighbors? Should you know your neighbors?

Everyone defines a perfect neighbor differently. My ideal neighbor would do the following: say hello, check my mail and watch my house, shoo ravens and bears from my garbage, comment when I look nice, provide cooking ingredients, alert me to good weather coming, notice if my tires are low, loan me power tools and mechanical advice, proofread my stories, remind me to file my Permanent Fund Dividend, call me when solicitors are heading my way, babysit the kids in a pinch, and make me feel okay about the junk pile on the side of my house.

Luckily, I have this all rolled into one neighbor - they've got my back. It might be better if multiple neighbors each took on a few of these traits so my one neighbor isn't burdened with my high maintenance. But after five years on the block, I've never been in anyone else's house, haven't had many conversations and don't know anyone else's story. What if we have big things in common that will make me feel warm and fuzzy? Or what if I got to know them, and found out I didn't like them or they had a shady past?

Some swear friendly neighbors will make life more pleasant. By being the neighbor you want to have, you might get that reflected back. Here are some thoughts on improving neighbor relations.

Make yourself available

Take walks around the neighborhood and say hello to people in passing. Or sit or work in your front yard and act approachable. Have an open seat next to you for a short visit.

Meet new neighbors

We just had new neighbors move in next door so I arranged for my "good" neighbor and I to go in on a little homemade goodie basket. I had the kids draw some pictures of our family and we included some baked goods, smoked salmon, homemade jelly and assorted teas in a bag and hung it on their door on move-in day. They stopped by to thank us and I learned their names, occupations and landscaping plans. Could be the start of a beautiful friendship - and with two boys, it's nice to know there's a nurse next door.

Lend a hand

If there are any struggling elderly people on your block, offer to help them somehow or give them your phone number in case of an emergency. This will foster good feelings and make them feel a little safer. If you are the struggling elderly, don't be afraid to ask for neighbors' numbers or hire neighborhood kids to help out with strenuous chores.

Pets and music

Noise seems to be a big problem for many people. My mom fought with neighbors over their barking dog by blaring Mexican music full blast in their direction when the dog wouldn't stop. The neighbors in turn reported my high school parties and I spent a summer weeding the side of the house. However, this led to their son helping me and we started dating.

Walk the line

There's a fine line between being neighborly and nosey. If you want to talk, leave your neighbors wanting more, not wishing you would go away. Just a little information will go a long way.

Have an open mind

Neighbors are thrown together with no real rhyme or reason except that they can afford to live in the same neighborhood. A tree hugger can live next door to a logger, a Republican next to a Democrat. Use this as an opportunity to get to know the "other" a little. With some common ground, maybe some understanding can be reached.

If that doesn't work, as Robert Frost said, "good fences make good neighbors."

This is the last Straight Talk column. Thank you for reading. Courtney Nelson can be reached at nelsonfamily@acsalaska.net.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Artists' spaces: Down in the basement



Basement Studios, a glass business opened six years ago by married artists Tasha Walen and Lincoln Farabee, began in the corner of their cellar with only a torch and an open window. Now it's taken over the whole floor.

Since the purchase of that first torch, the artists have expanded as rapidly as their glass. They now have a larger torch with oxygen propane, a diamond-embedded wheel, a lapidary grinder, a kiln and lots of glass materials to help them create their lampwork, beads and jewelry. To adhere to safety codes they installed a ventilation system capable of sucking all the air out of the room in just seconds. In the winter, this unfortunately chills their living space above.

Although the thought of a huge heated studio downtown is appealing, they wouldn't have their space any other way. They like to travel too much. They show their work with the Juneau Artists Gallery year-round and exhibit their larger scale work once or twice annually.

Walen and Farabee met while working on their undergraduate degrees in Bellingham; both were bass players in the symphony. They eventually moved to Alaska and attended the Univeristy of Alaska Anchorage; Walen earned her master's degree in early childhood special education, and Farabee got his nursing license.

Walen now combines her degree with her passion for glass, teaching art to adults who experience disabilities at The Canvas. She also helps The Canvas design their music program.

"I teach art glass there, and glass engraving and infusing with my students. It's amazing," said Walen.

A love of travel

Basement Studios isn't incredibly profitable, but it allows the couple to travel the world learning more about the art of glass.

"We've been using it (the company) to help build on itself," said Farabee.

"For me the fun part is traveling and studying," said Walen. "The glass community is very inspirational, people are very generous, and we've met people from all over the world just blowing glass, taking classes and working with teachers."

Farabee's mother, who was hooked on glass at the same time as her son and daughter-in-law, works out of Seattle and travels with them.

"It's such a good way to get to know your mother-in-law," said Walen. "We both studied at Pilchuck Glass School, and we spent some time studying in Murano, Italy, which is sort of a mecca for glass artists."

Farabee and his mom are currently preparing to visit Germany to study glass, and to learn how to make prosthetic glass eyes.

In addition to Pilchuck, Walen studied at the Pratt Fine Art Center in Seattle, and the Corning Glass Museum in New York. She has also worked with Martin Rosol, a Czeck glass artist who taught her a laminating process called hextol, where two pieces of crystal or optical glass are joined with laminate glue.

"When you move the piece, it changes colors," she said. "It's all cold working, so the glass is shaped without any heat."

Walen and Farabee both find that glass workshops are very productive times, but there's something about the intensity of workshops and the transformations they create that taps into emotional releases.

"There is always somebody that cries at glass camp," Walen laughed.

"Everytime we take a class it kind of bumps us up and gives us so many ideas it's almost hard to manage it all, she said. "Then there are times I come down here and stare at the wall for three days and don't know where to start - especially right before a show."

Show and politics

Their current show features engraved glass with iconic figures in unconventional locations, like an Alaskan cast-glass totem pole with the Great Wall of China as a backdrop.

"I've been exploring the mass production of Alaskan images, especially in our community where they purchase stuff from China and then everybody comes to Alaska to buy them," Walen said. "I'm trying to find humor as well as make people think about things and question what is going on. Maybe people will stop and think about it a little."

Inspiration and planning

When asked about the source of their inspiration Walen said, "My design work comes usually in the form of a weird non-sleeping evening - absolutely overwhelming ideas come one after the other. I write them all down. It all kind of comes out all at once, and then I'm working on that."

Sometimes this design inspiration is shaped by practical concerns like glass compatibility and cost of materials.

"Glass moves at different rates so it can be like trying to blend oil and water."

Some glass colors cost more than others, she said, and using recycled glass can be tricky because the glass type is not usually known.

The rewards

Besides travel adventures and continuing education, Walen says the most rewarding thing for her is teaching glass fusing and cutting to people who experience disabilities.

"It's super rewarding, and some of the best artists I've ever met are in that studio," she said. Anyone can do it, you just make it work and stop putting limitations on people."

"I think teaching is the direction I'm headed," said Walen, who also wants to exhibit in museums and out of state. "There are some people who are great artists but not good at teaching - I think I'm an OK artist who's good at teaching."

Farabee says teaching isn't in his future. For him it's a creative outlet from his day job.

"I don't feel like I'm fighting myself; I have creative ideas at work and this is my outlet for them."

Though they exhibit together, their work is very different.

"We are very individual in our taste and flavors for glass," said Farabee. "(But) we work together and respect each other a whole heck of a lot, which really helps."