Digging in the past, I'm republishing my artist's statement from my senior project. You many note that it was all about the smell of darkroom chemicals, something I haven't used in years. The digital age has changed how I create art, but hasn't changed how I feel about it.
I associate art with odor.
My early memories as a five year old
are posing in my grandmother's studio, breathing in the sharp sweet
smells of oil paint and turpentine. She would work quietly and
swiftly, trying to finish the portrait she had started of me from a
photograph. A few years later I am in my dad's darkroom, earning my
first Girl Scout merit badge for photography. The pungent smells of
stop-bath and fixer sting my sinuses and make my eyes water. I
didn't like it then, but years later it evokes special memories of
that all too rare time alone with my dad.
Bodie 1996 |
What excites me about making art is the
process. While some people are stimulated by the anticipation of
creation, others are only satisfied by the results. My fulfillment
is found in the activity - being immersed in the aroma of the
chemistry, the rhythmic rocking of the trays, the ticking of the
timers and the changing interplay of the lights. Working in the
darkroom is a sensual dance of creativity. It is a solitary labor of
love.
Andrew 1986 |
My art speaks of that solitude
and sensuality. Whether it is a single human figure painted by light
or an old musty bed in an uninhabited building, my images are conjured
up out of the darkness, smelling of sweat or reeking of age.
Cannonballs sit stacked in readiness for a war that will never come.
An elderly lady sits waiting for grandchildren that rarely visit. A
baby reaches its sticky fingers, trying to capture dust motes
floating in the air. Art is a poignant fragrance that evokes a
memory of the past.