a message to myself from the past

My memory of the Freedman Gallery   by Beth Krumholz

I started to hang out at the Freedman Gallery when I was an artsy teen living up the street,

in Hampden Heights. My mother had been a devoted community member active on the Fine Arts Commission for years. I liked the director and the artists. At the time Marilyn Zeitlin was running things. She was brilliant, dynamic, inspiring and infectious. She gave me my first art history book. Exhibiting artists would arrive from New York and sleep over at our house. I would ride the bus into NYC with them and see their studios.

It was the beginning of having meaningful and radical dialogues about art, creativity, expression, and ideas. I began an internship there. We hosted salons at our house. I developed relationships that I have maintained till this day and that steered the course of my life. It was the 1970’s. Graphic art was cut and paste. I was trying to figure something out. I was figuring out how art figured into my life and the Freedman Gallery gave me a place and a way to do that.

I did have all the art books that I poured over in the house I grew up in. I did have trips to New York City and Philadelphia. But this was in my back yard. I would ride my bike down many hills and arrive there.

The lectures and receptions were a hotbed of discourse and my curiosity was tapped. I remember conversations with Tom Watcke and Gary Adlestein. And of course Harry Koursaros. Marilyn’s office was upstairs in the White Chapel. The light would stream in. We would have miso soup and pita sandwiches and make the exhibition announcements old school style.

The exhibitions that I remember most dearly were small is beautiful which included works by Laurie Anderson and Dotty Attie. And Messages, where I had my first introduction to Joseph Beuys and Francesc Torres. And of course The Great Pyramid Show, where at the age of 16 I was entrusted with giving my first lecture and gallery tour.

Something big was happening there. And for me personally, it had something to do with what I did next, my pursuits and passions. After art school and my graduate degrees and stints in museums on both coasts, I returned to Albright and work at the Center for the Arts today creating public outreach programs that build on the exhibitions and other points of interest on the campus as well.

( I made the announcements pasted above- with manual cut and paste graphic design. The other announcement shows that I cut my teeth as a teen lecturing in the gallery. )

Art for Inspiration: from Poland with Love

There is so much incredible art that has been produced, but it sometimes seems the sheer amount prevents us from seeing and appreciating some really great artists! My name is Ellen, and I’m a student at Albright College here to show all of you some great artists for you to draw inspiration from. One of my favorite sculpture artists whose work I find breathtaking, is Igor Mitoraj. He was a Polish sculptor who primarily worked with marble and thematically had a classical style, but with a postmodern flare in the ways with which he altered the human form. He originally studied painting at the Krakow Academy of Art and the National School of Art, but became inspired to pursue sculpture while travelling in Mexico. Here’s some cool pictures of this amazing work for appreciation and inspiration!
Can you think of a neat project that draws inspiration from Mitoraj’s work? Let us know what you think the comments section below!

Want to see more? Check out this link! http://www.artnet.com/artists/igor-mitoraj/

Tibetan Sand Art: A Lesson in Temporality

Art from Around the World: An Art in Letting Go
Tibetan Mandala

I remember being about five years old walking into Kutztown University with my parents and seeing people crowding around still, robed men bending over a tall black table. From my vantage point and limited life experience, I could not figure out for the life of me what it was I was witnessing. Why had my parents brought me here? Despite this confusion, I could feel there was something special about it, something about the stillness, yet deep fascination of everyone in the room. We walked up closer to the podium and my mother picked me up in her arms so I could see. As I finally rose above the height of the table, I became absorbed in incredible colors. The robed men were Tibetan Monks, slowly and deliberately tracing a beautiful mandala pattern with colored sand. The design was so intricate, the colors perfectly composed, and the monks were so peacefully concentrated on their creation. They were in town working on this huge piece of art for nearly a month, and it was something everyone was talking about, something everyone went to see. I was so moved by watching this sand pattern unfold that I still remember it vividly today. But what happened to this work of art? At my age, growing up in western culture, this was nearly unfathomable to me: when they finished placing every grain of sand on this intricate pattern, they swept it off the table, placed it in bags, and had a ceremony at the local creek where they released all the sand into the water. They put hundreds of hours into a beautiful piece, and then let it all go.

And that is the whole concept behind the Sand Mandala. It is a tradition of Tibetan Buddhists and the act of time-consuming, peaceful creation following ritualistic “dissolution” is a practice in accepting and experiencing the transitory nature of material life. Everything comes and goes, so instead of feeling a need to preserve something once time has been put into it, they instead release it back to the earth.

The mandalas are either made with sand or natural materials like bark, roots, and pollen as well as minerals such as gypsum, charcoal, and yellow ochre. The intricate, geometric designs usually depict spiritual deities that each represent a philosophical view. To begin, a design is chosen by great teacher. Then, the monks who will be making it study the design and will draw it from memory once they are ready to begin. The process of making the sand mandala is part of the path to enlightenment for the monks making it and is meant to be purifying and healing for both the monks, other people, and the world. They believe it has healing proprieties because the mandalas emit positive energy, both to the monks and the viewers. While working, they use it as a meditation practice and thoughtfully contemplate the philosophies of the deities represented. They will also chant as they work to call for the energy of the deities and ask for them to bring healing to everyone. When they have completed the mandala, they do the dissolution ceremony that I described above. The flowing water represents both the impermanence of life and the sharing of the healing power of the mandala with the world.

The 2 bottom images are raw vegan cakes inspired by mandalas made by the bakery chef Stephen McCarty. What kind of mandala will you make?

Henna Designs!

Art From Around the World: The History of Henna 

 

Have you ever been to a fair or a carnival and had someone do a cool henna design on your skin? This neat tattoo-like substance is something many of us have tried, but how much do you know about its origins and traditional uses? The story is pretty interesting. This art form was introduced into Western culture in the 1990s where it is often referred to as “Henna tattoos.”  

 

Henna is actually the name of the plant that has been used for this intricate body art. Since it has such a rich color and is such a strong dye, it is has also been used to for dying hair, fingernails, fabrics, and even animal fur! Usually the plant is dried and crushed up to form a powder and then mixed with a liquid such as water, lemon juice, and even molasses. The first signs of henna use are in ancient Egypt where some mummies were found to have their fingernails dyed with the paste of this plant.  

While we now get to try out Henna tattoos for fun, this beautiful, traditional art form is actually called Mehndi and has been around for thousands of years! It was developed by the Ancient Indians and was part of Hindu ritual. Its use began as part of the tradition of women meeting their husbands and it developed into a symbol of fertility and femininity. Festivals and holidays began incorporating henna as part of the celebration and this practice continues to this day. It began being symbolic of luck, joy, and beauty. The designs represent the “outer sun” and “inner sun” and is usually painted on the hands and the feet. At first it was only meant for women, but eventually it was used on men as well. Today, Mehndi is traditionally used for weddings and is a very important part of the marriage process.  At a pre-wedding ceremony, usually held at the bride’s house, a professional artist will come and draw the intricate designs on the hands and feet of the bride. Among these beautiful, traditional designs, the artist will often incorporate the initials of the groom. Because of its use in weddings, the art form and its methods have undergone numerous innovations such as developing even more intricate line work, adding glitter, cultivating different henna varieties, and improving how the henna is processed. So, now you know this awesome art form came from thousands of years of history and tradition, and now you get to enjoy it too! To try out henna on your own, follow the link for kids and design patterns!  

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/167-0609869-8624947?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=hena+tattoo+kit&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Ahena+tattoo+kit