Clinton St. Quarterly, Vol. 10 No. 1 | Spring 1988 (Twin Cities/Minneapolis-St. Paul) /// Issue 1 of 7 /// Master# 42 of 73

Clinton Street GALLERY CONSTANCE A. LOWE Each of my works gathers its individual content as it evolves; choices of particular images and materials are provoked both by specific worldly concerns and compelling emotional resonances. Physical and psychological layering and fragmentation, marked by a play between the nameable and the almost-nameable, create shifting tensions. These shifts thwart the logical construction of specific meaning while creating junctures or openings through which a viewer may intuitively and emotionally participate in the work. The binding thread within my work as a whole is a wish to evoke a poignancy of relationship, attachment, and conflict by suggesting both the desire for and the futility of reconciliation of diverse elements. KATE HUNT I work from a deeply personal level of intuition and response. I am interested in the individual journey into the world: the Hero’s Journey. I am interested in the interaction of power, vulnerability, and violence. My sculpture has an assemblage approach. Currently, I am combining other materials to the steel, both for the added content/imagery, and for the color inherent in the additional materials. I feel at times a need for a more organic form which isn’t generally found in steel; the color and contrast of bone, bronze, wood and stone combined with the rusted steel surface electrifies me, and seems a step beyond a more traditional approach to steel sculpture. I have a personal connection with all the found objects in my work—who gave or sold them to me, where I found the objects, how they came to be included in my sculpture. These connections let me into other people’s lives and experiences. When I’m back in my studio, the conscious and unconscious memories of conversations, sights, sounds, smell, and emotions merge with my experiences, my past, and what I look to for my future. This merging is the crux of my work. When the materials, personal connections, and memories converge, transformation occurs. Each sculpture takes on its own life, emotional personae, and meaning. At times, my work speaks to myth and sources of strength and guidance. In other sculptures, I give up-front visual form to those emotions we rarely admit we have—rage, hatred, fear; the deep frustrations that evolve out of the inability to affect circumstances and surroundings. It is within the silence of unresolved frustration that power, vulnerability, and violence interact. RICARDO BLOCKThe silence. The silence was the most unexpected thing. All that I saw in Mexico City afterthe 1985 earthquake was a surprise. The scale of everything was much greater than I had imagined. The devastation more wide spread and diversethan I could have guessed. But.the silence of the city, after my eyes had gotten used to all else, was the shock that has never gone away. It was the quiet of a Sunday, day after day. Because the streets were blocked with rubble and there was no traffic, because schools and businesses were closed, because people had left the city and people were in mourning, the city lay like a beached whale in tropical siesta time. Then there was the dust. Everywhere. Millions of tons of concrete, pulverized and airborne. People walked around with face masks, like displaced orderlies and nurses. People stood around and waited. For the whereabouts of their loved ones. For housing. For water and food. For medicine. For something to happen that would right it all. The first days after the earthquake, the phone lines were in disarray, and communication with the provinces and abroad impossible. Television became the beacon of people’s lives and deaths. An announcer facing the camera read $ disordered litany of name after name—the names of those that had survived and were sending messages out and the names of those that had died. CURTIS HOARDThere are a number of issues that I am involved with in my work that continue to excite and challenge me. I have a love for sculptural form as well as painting. Therefore, making the two- dimensional surface work with the three-dimensional form is a primary challenge. How the painting works as the viewer moves about and around the piece never ceases to engage me. The edge, compositionally, is always in flux in addition to the form being transformed by the painting. I love it. There is considerable content in the painting that revolves around a narrative dealing with human experience. Primarily, the issues that develop in relationships whether man and man, woman and man, the family, politics, or whatever. I endeavor to create visual situations that allow the viewer to participate by bringing their own parPage layouts by: Julie Baugnet ticular baggage to my painting. I’m very interested in their perception and how their particular prejudice effects my intention. Lastly, I love the ceramic process and the uniqueness in color and form that can be achieved with this process. It really is quite different than anything available in the material world. Clinton St. Quarterly—Spring, 1988 19

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