Showing posts with label art during quarantine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art during quarantine. Show all posts

September 2, 2020

Together in Isolation

In July I participated in a project at The Re-Institute in Millerton, NY called Together in Isolation. Artist Henry Klimowicz, owner of the space, started the project in April as an ongoing record of this time. 

Artwork is created inside a clear plastic box that is then buried in the ground and lit up at night. The work is spaced along a path in the landscape and viewers experience the work while walking at their own pace looking down through the top lit "window" of each piece. 

My piece is titled "Unraveling" 

We long to be seen and heard, and to feel our presence in the world. So we make a a mark. In a time of uncertainty and isolation, we create, in order to feel ourselves, connected, anchored.

These are unfinished drawings pieced together on found cardboard, rock and driftwood from the shore, and knitted yarn, some partially unraveled. Representing the scattering of time and focus, the comfort in the handmade, and the groundedness of the earth.


Some of the pieces that went into my box

Samantha Palmeri "Unraveling"

View of the grounds at Re-Institute

Samantha Palmeri "Unraveling"

View of the artwork lit up

Artist Christian Pietrapiana "So?"

Artist Nancy Daubenspeck "Consider the Lilies"




-from the press release:

A primary objective of the show revolves around the inherent paradox of its title: Together in Isolation. While the artists are each creating work alone in their studios, they are simultaneously contributing to the exhibition as a whole which continues to weave and morph in surprising ways. The show’s growth is organic and unpredictable and layers of meaning are created and recreated as each box is buried in the ground. The exhibition is a poignant and lasting record of this time of isolation, hardship, and sadness, but it also delivers unexpected glimmers of hope.

New pieces will continue to be accepted until such a time as we may all safely gather indoors together again. Then Together in Isolation will end as it began – paradoxically – with a celebratory closing instead of an opening.


The gallery is open on Wednesdays and Fridays from dusk until dark by appointment via the website, www.TheReInstitute.com









 

 

 

 

 

August 24, 2020

Pandemic blues and opportunities



This week I picked up the paintings from my show at Pen & Brush. Thrilled to have been asked to participate, thrilled that we were able to have an opening reception right before the pandemic, but crushed that no one got to see the show, and that those paintings are now rolled up in storage and will probably not get shown again. Also this week I finally got word about the artist residency program I was supposed to participate in this month at Arts Letters & Numbers. It is now officially postponed until further notice. 

I am extremely fortunate to be on my own, with a place to live and work, and the freedom of time and commitment, but having all communal activities shuttered or postponed, some indefinitely, is certainly bittersweet. 

Time itself is bittersweet. The state of the world, our country, our communities, leaves me feeling scattered and restless. 

I'm aware that this time I've been given is a gift, an opportunity to be focused and introspective, innovative, productive. So, each week I start all over with lists of how not to squander it. How to make the most of these moments. 

As today is Monday, I guess I'm sending this out into the world to say to anyone else feeling this way, stay motivated! Focus on the opportunities at hand, and keep working! 


Untitled Pink I, oil on canvas, approx. 46x40 inches

Untitled Pink II, oil on canvas, approx. 46x40 inches

Untitled Pink III, oil on canvas, approx. 27x35 inches





May 22, 2020

I'm still here. Pandemic update


pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches

pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches


I like my mornings for meditating, reading, writing, and drinking coffee, and lighting incense. I have often said that I am not a morning person, because I don’t like to talk in the morning, at all. But, contemplating, planning, adjusting to a new day, these are real activities that take up space. I am a morning person after all, very much so! I also do some of my best work when I don’t stop to question it, like sitting down to my drawing table without giving it a second thought, and this often happens first thing in the morning.

I am learning a lot lately about choosing to be present.

I'm still here. That's my go to answer when people ask how I'm holding up. I'm still here. I'm surviving. Some days I'm even better than surviving. 

I am so grateful that the weather is getting nice and I can go for long walks and appreciate the outdoors. I know what a blessing this is because I have friends in the city who don't leave their tiny apartments. It is also, ironically, the first time in many years that, not only do I not have a garden to tend to, I have zero outdoor space at all. It figures, after all these years of composting and growing my own vegetables, now that I can't do it anymore, the whole world has gotten into it! Today I went and planted a few pots of Swiss chard regardless. There's hardly any sun on my poor looking stoop so my options are limited, however, this feels good, like some continuity at the moment. 

There is something about this pandemic that is bringing some real truth up to the surface. Everyone is suffering in one way or another, but I feel the power of all of us being in this together. 

This morning while meditating I got a picture in my head. I am like a black and blue, and maybe I'm not the only one. I'm healing, and there’s no rushing the process. What it implies is that the damage is already done, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore, and it is almost recovered. Here is an opportunity for change. If I choose to keep bumping into it over and over, it will be like getting more black and blues on top of this one. Why would I do that?! 

So, I’m not. I'm taking a breath. I’m here making drawings, planting seeds, and accepting the moment as it is.



pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches


pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches



pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 9.5x10.5 inches

Part of the Beacon of Light Fairground Fundraiser May 26 - June 2
















April 16, 2020

coronavirus studio update


I held a paint brush today for the first time in months. Got the palette and the fingers dirty, officially inaugurating my new studio. I had some scraps of styrofoam I've been wanting to play with, and a small canvas that was barely started a while back. I didn't do much, because I haven't been able to focus for more than short spurts, but it was something.


Usually when I am faced with overwhelming circumstances I react in one of two ways. I either let it all out and paint non-stop, or I'm unable to paint at all. When I'm unable to paint, I draw, and glue stuff, and knit, and these are the things I've been doing for the last couple of weeks.


Each drawing: 5x7", Prismacolor markers on heavy cardstick, bottom right has collage element





I've gotten quite a few drawings done during odd hours mostly in the mornings, but I don't do much else.

Today I baked banana bread, thanks to a fun FaceBook group that's been inspiring all kinds of banana inspired silliness.

Last night I cooked the first legit meal for myself in a while. After weeks of cereal and forkfuls of peanut butter for dinner I decided it was time!







I'm still a little in shock from the stress of moving during all this, specifically from a house to an apartment, which is also my studio. I'm living completely alone for the first time in almost twenty years, which at the moment is changing my view of isolation quite a bit. Normally I'd be perfectly content to self-quarantine. It's a necessary and welcome choice for most artists, including myself. I think it's more that I am adjusting both to my own new space and living situation, and simultaneously to the new living situation and confinement of an entire society. It's disorienting.

There has been family drama and loss as well, adding a lot of stress and sadness all around. My sister-in-law's father-in-law passed, and several others were infected and are suffering with the virus, including my mother who was hospitalized but is now in recovery.

It's clear that everyone right now is suffering and adjusting in one way or another. I keep hearing people say, I'll see you on the other side of this. I'm very much looking forward to there being an other side to this. Attempting to be present and live in the moment has never felt more relevant, so that is what I am trying to do.

Hopefully today's little success will continue and increase a little each day. I hope you are also able to make the most of this time, and take care of yourselves and each other!

The drawings are available individually or in groups. Please inquire for details. samanthapalmeriart@gmail.com