under distant skies: the art of jane balsgaard

last weekend i visited the studio of artist jane balsgaard. she's one of six artists that have their studios in a lovely old building in frederiksværk. a trained painter and sculptor, she has been working for many years with natural materials - handmade paper, bendy willow that she grows herself - materials that she gently twists into graceful, lighter-than-air shapes that seem to float.  i was especially fascinated by her boats. she allowed me to wander her light, airy studio with my camera(s) in hand.

jane balsgaard talks about listening to the willow as she works with it and about the point where she often allows it to bend her artistic vision to its will rather than vice versa. i asked her about the pieces she was sending to an upcoming show in chicago and how they would withstand the journey. she said the pieces are surprisingly durable. one had blown away from her last winter and she didn't find it 'til the snow melted in the spring, surprisingly not worse for the wear.

light, delicate sculptures of beautiful unique handmade paper, twigs and delicate fishline fairly float around her studio. they have a way of capturing an enigmatic moment, freezing it momentarily, but releasing it at the same time. the sculptures are elusive in their lightness, yet dense with meaning that feels like it's right there, waiting to be snatched up.

these columns on the wall gave me the feeling that they could capture light and channel it. or choose not to, according to their whims.

there is a blend of nature and fancy in jane's work. the two curvy works in the middle of this photo seemed to be in motion tho' they were still. i had a notion that they were singing softly to themselves and that i would be able to hear their song if it were quiet enough. and i kept thinking that they moved just as i looked away. for structures so light, they are heavy with potential meanings.

 this fantastic organic shape, kalabasbåden, suspended on the ceiling was part of an exhibition at the himmerlands kunstmuseum on års in 2009.

there was so much to look at, i could have stayed for hours. here's a hint of some fascinating feathery works that i will save for another post.

i had the feeling that this beautiful boat was already there, lurking within the willow and jane just called it forth, coupling it with her light and beautiful handmade paper.

for those in the chicago area, you're in luck, you can see (and buy) jane balsgaard's beautiful work for yourself in person at SOFA nov. 5-7, 2010 at navy pier.  she also has gallery representation in the US at browngrotta.

jane balsgaard's beautiful works have me thinking about art and artists and the lifetime it takes to hone a craft. has art made you think this weekend?

deep thoughts

you never know where your life will take you. what the people you meet will inspire you to do and think. the world is so complex and there are so many things that have to align for you to live exactly the life that you're living.

to try to predict what's next or what will come of your decisions and relationships is completely impossible. you have to find a balance between allowing life to carry you along and guiding it in a direction that you more or less think is the right one. but it's always a fine line. and you never really know which side of it you're on.

sometimes tho' it just feels right. and the path seems sure. and your doubts dissolve. and you know the path is the right one for you in the here and now. even if you don't know where it leads.

because any path at all leads to adventures and new chapters and it's exciting to contemplate what lies ahead. but you have to remember to stop and take a walk and a deep breath along the way and just enjoy it. because life, as far as you're able to comprehend here and now, only happens once. or at least this particular version of it.

do remember to stop and enjoy the sunset once in awhile, because it all goes by pretty fast...

in the same boat

there are these moments, not moments of perfect clarity exactly, because those are something else, but moments where you suddenly, out of nowhere are able to take in, just for a second, The Enormity of Things. i had one the other day when we took a load of books and things to the house. i had unpacked them onto a shelf so we could take the boxes back home to load again and it suddenly hit me, in all of its fullness, exactly how much work we had to do on the house before it would be as we want it. luckily, it only lasted a second, because otherwise i would have just gone mad from the enormity of it.

i had a similar flash of The Enormity of Things today on the train, when i looked up and saw a strange, goofy, awkward man looking at me. you know how you can feel someone looking at you sometimes? and i tweeted something uncharitable about how i had forgotten about weirdos on the public transport. and then i was suddenly hit by the feeling of how everyone is really just trying to get on with their life in their own way. and our paths cross or they don't, but we're all just living along, inside of ourselves, trying to make our way. and the enormity of all of us going along, living, was just THERE for a second. and then it passed. thankfully most of the time our minds protect us from that knowledge of The Enormity of Things. i think if it didn't, we'd just be paralyzed, unable to move. just sitting here frozen, but in the same boat.

i wonder what it is about right now that's making me susceptible to these gateways of my mind...