Fashion as Intuition

Hansell shares about their gift for reading the style palm of others and tuning the gender dial.

Gurtie Hansell’s love for fashion and connection to altered clothing stems far into their past. At a young age their grandmother taught them to sew and from there it seemed, in Hansell’s words, “I always made clothes or augmented clothes to fit my weirdo personality.” However, Hansell started to make a more communal and consistent practice of it in 2015. For the retirement party of Chicago’s Chances Dances, Hansell was approached about facilitating a fashion show. The project materialized into something substantial. Hansell reminisced on the crowd’s positive reactions. “And I had a lot of fun and the models really liked it,” they added. That Hansell would receive such positive reviews from all around didn’t surprise me. It’s in their nature to honor and connect with others, something I’ve experienced first hand in all my encounters with them. 

After the fashion show, Mary Eleanor invited Hansell to display in the window of the boutique and gallery space Tusk. From there Hansell thought, “Okay, I guess this is what I do now.” They credit the encouragement from their community as the spark to transition to an entrepreneurial artist. At the time they’d been working for six years doing corporate level branding and graphic design for Whole Foods. “I lived in front of a computer,” Hansell said, “And I’m a very tactile person,” making their transition to the material world of fashion and alterations a natural one. Though that’s not to say their practice is without challenge. Mostly recently, they’ve been struggling to decipher how to maintain the political heart that fuels their work without capitalizing off of tragedy. Much of their altered fashion consists of upcycling t-shirts by screen printing on them. They do not shy away from imbuing political statements with humor, referring to such t-shirts as “an analog meme.” With hefty doses of intention and goofiness, Hansell’s work hits with a heartfelt relevance and their humor buoys grave subjects with a zany spirit of hope.

Ox-Bow, its traditions and culture, have largely influenced Hansell’s practice. They first visited in 2020 to volunteer at a Halloween event, which has since become one of their annual reasons to come to campus. “Halloween has become [a] part of my practice because of those visits,” Hansell said. These experiences have encouraged Hansell to more deeply explore drag, which they say is “directly linked to the freedom [they have] experienced at Ox-Bow” during Halloween each year. This sense of liberation is one they hope to facilitate in their workshops and one they’ve clearly achieved in years past. In particular, Hansell loves to twist what they refer to as the gender dial. “If I wear a dress, and I love to wear dresses,” Hansell explained they’ll tune in the dial by “then [throwing] on a ballcap” to add a dash of masc to the fem look of a dress.

Hansell rocking the dress and ballcap combo.

Interpretations of gender and willingness to play with them comes naturally to Hansell. They even enjoy twisting this dial when they stylize for others. When I asked Hansell how they go about creating looks for another person, they said, “I think it’s always been a facet of who I am.” They described it as a form of listening to others. When one lends their ear to how others present themselves, it becomes easy enough (for Hansell at least) to offer that individual a look that honors them. Hansell refers to this act as “reading the style palm” of others.

One of Hansell’s favorite parts of Art on the Meadow Workshops is watching folks settle into the space. At the start of the class, participants learn to shed their fears and grow comfortable with the sense of whimsy and spontaneity in Hansell’s workshop. Hansell describes that the four day workshop has a kindred feeling to getting ready for a party as they sift through clothes and help each other find and modify objects to achieve a desired look. The intergenerational aspect, hosting students from 16 to 60+ has also fueled Hansell’s time on campus. “It’s always such a wild mix,” Hansell said. The exchange of creativity between all ages in the workshop and the friendships that form over just four days is truly remarkable.

Those looking to revamp their wardrobe and encounter the enthusiasm and inspiration that Gurtie Hansell always provides, should consider enrolling in their upcoming workshop Renewed Ready-to-Wear.

Gurtie Hansell is a multimedia artist, teacher, and entrepreneur working out of their home studio and backyard in Chicago. They draw on fashion, printmaking (and print-breaking), as well as graphic design to outfit their community for pageantry, protest, and pleasure. Their wearables are deeply inspired by decades in queer nightlife, camp craft, and generally being loud in public. Gurtie owns a gender-expansive streetwear brand called Kangmankey which they've run since 2015, and they also co-operate a production and costume design company called MotherTwin. This is their fourth year teaching "Renewed Ready to Wear" at Ox-Bow.

All images are courtesy of the artist.

Research and interviews were conducted by the article’s author, Shanley Poole, Engagement Liaison & Storyteller. The article was originally published in Experience Ox-Bow 2024.

LeRoy Neiman Fellow: Jack Holly

Jack Holly (Summer Fellow, 2023) discusses their path to photography and the portrait series they developed during their summer at Ox-Bow.

At age 18, Jack Holly bought their first camera and has ever since been entranced by what appears in the view lens. Through photography, Holly has captured everything from the landscapes of rural America to intimate glimpses of BDSM culture, at times even intertwining the two as seen in How to Steal a Plane. Their ongoing portrait series sits in thoughtful juxtaposition to their past career as a model. Ultimately, they were unsatisfied with their experiences in front of the camera. “It made me feel like a hat rack for other people,” Holly shared. This perspective deeply informs how they aim to render images of others. Their untitled project, which documents genderqueer and gender-nonconforming individuals through portraiture, prizes the autonomy and power of individuals. Through interviews with the subject and collaboration during the shoots, Holly hopes to capture their subjects in a way that honors and elevates.

(left) A portrait of EXYL.

(right) A portrait of John Rossi. Photos by Jack Holly.

During the summer of 2023, after completing their BFA at the Kansas City Art Institute, Holly started their portrait series on campus where they spent 13 weeks as a Summer Fellow at Ox-Bow School of Art & Artists’ Residency. In each photo, an individual identifying as queer or gender nonconforming faces away from the camera and holds an object of meaning to them. “It's one of those projects that I kind of consider a sketchbook practice because it's not really a main tenet of my practice, but it's a way for me to continue photographing and getting to know people and understanding the weird part of people's lives,” explained Holly. During each portrait session, Holly incorporates an interview to better understand the individual. Oftentimes, the stories they reveal are deeply personal. “It's an honor that people feel so open,” Holly said.

Throughout their 13 weeks on campus, they continued taking photos and also ventured into another new project, a performance piece that would eventually become the short film “Big Yellow Horse.” The film’s inspiration took root in Holly’s long standing fascination with Dante’s “Inferno” and Holly describes their work as a “surrealist adaptation” of the text. Having first read the work at age 14, Holly said, “it was a pretty formative text growing up and… [I] always had it checked out at the public library.” Perhaps it is partially this childlike fondness that charges Dante’s themes with new relevance. “The dead have collected and keep my memories now. The world will go on without them,” serves as the film’s opening words. These two lines baptize viewers with the sense of existential modesty that guides them through the rest of the film.  

Still from Jack Holly’s short film “Big Yellow Horse.” Image courtesy of the artist.

Big Yellow Horse builds its own language and logic, creating a world for its audience. Though the piece only runs for six minutes and twenty-some seconds, Holly creates a universe that tugs at the threads of death and memory, weaving them into a visual oasis. The word inferno doesn’t easily come to mind amidst the shots in which Cole Bespalko floats on an air mattress on Lake Michigan's water, but Holly isn’t aiming for simple, as is evident through the psychedelic editing style and sound design that wavers between transcendent and terrifying, like the film’s many symbolic coin flips and flickering lights. While others may have been tempted to manifest inferno with more depictions of brimstones and damnation, in Holly’s hands “Big Yellow Horse” presents downfalls as an opportunity for inferno to function as rebirth, akin to a phoenix gifted with the liberty of a tabula rasa. 

In creating the film, Holly was eager to involve other artists on Ox-Bow’s campus. A number of other summer fellows joined the film as actors. Artist and LeRoy Neiman Fellow EXYL consulted on sound design and staff member Michael Stone wrote the poem that opens the film. The process of filming held its own adventures including late night shoots and on one occasion, Holly fell into the lagoon while trying to capture the perfect shot. At each moment, Holly emphasized the warmth the community offered, whether that included volunteering to help during the witching hours of campus or laughing alongside them when they took their unintended dip. The film’s private debut was also communal; it first aired on the meadow during a 10 p.m. screening in which staff, students, faculty, and other artists gathered together. After its private showing at Ox-Bow, “Big Yellow Horse” made its public debut at the Glenwood Arts Theatre in Kansas City.

(left) A Portrait of Aidan Mudge.

(right) A Portrait of Cole Bespalko. Photos by Jack Holly.

Since the conclusion of Holly’s fellowship, they have settled into their post-graduate life in Kansas City. While working full time at a frame shop and gallery alongside keeping up a studio practice has not been without challenges, they still manage to get into the studio most days and have continued the portrait series they started at Ox-Bow. Nowadays, Holly photographs people in their own homes. “It can be intimidating because I'm a tiny person, and you never know what someone's gonna do when you meet them on the internet,” Holly acknowledged. “It's a really weird exchange of trust and intimacy,” they added, an exchange that has cultivated a captivating series of images.

For the foreseeable future, Holly hopes to continue developing short films, rendering photographs, and spending time with their family and new niece.

This article was written by Shanley Poole based off interviews conducted with Jack Holly in August 2023 and February 2024.

For the Love of Landscapes

For the Love of Landscapes: An Interview with David Baker

“There’s a magical place when painting the surface of the water,” David Baker says, “where [the surface] switches from mirror to window.” This magic trick was something he spent hours trying to capture during his early years at Ox-Bow. He’d venture out with a canoe on the lagoon, Baker donning a wide brimmed hat to shield himself from the sun and toting a set of paints. While the process might sound romantic, Baker emphasized it was pretty grueling work. 

Baker first came to Ox-Bow in the 90’s and reminisced that in those days you could get a cold beer from the campus vending machine. At the time, he mostly rendered abstract oil paintings, the kinds of work that might draw Rothko to mind. All that began to change at Ox-Bow. As if inspired by the school’s founders, he suddenly found himself driven to landscapes, a style he’d previously written off as a “tired genre.”

Rivulet, David Baker, 2020, charcoal, 11 x 14 inches. Image courtesy of the artist.

In the years beyond his first summer at Ox-Bow, Baker continued to expand his practice. He ventured into watercolor, motivated by a class he was to teach at South West Michigan College. Baker eventually brought his professorial skills to campus. He taught his first core course Watercolor in 2000 and continued to do so through 2008. In 2010, he switched gears and crafted his first Art on the Meadow Workshop. Since then, he’s taught community members everything from watercolor to charcoal.  

This year, Baker looks forward to introducing students to some of his favorite subject material: the landscape of Ox-Bow, of course. Those taking Ox-Bow in Black and White can anticipate field studies of dunes and lagoons, while those in Painting with Oil Pastel can look forward to studying the arboreal ghosts and muses of Ox-Bow in the form of felled and still standing trees across campus. And all can count on spending time with an instructor who not only knows all the prime views, but will also teach you to capture them on canvas. 

David Baker holds a painting under a tent in an Art on the Meadow workshop. Two students sit at a folding table behind him. Photo by Ian Solomon (Summer Fellow, 2023).

David Baker (he/him) is a visual artist who specializes in poetic landscape painting, much of it done en plein air. Baker is a lifelong artist and teacher who has taught at Ox-Bow School of Art since 2000. He is represented by Rising Phoenix Gallery in Michigan City. 

This article was written by Shanley Poole and was initially published in the 2022 Experience Ox-Bow Catalog.

Then & Now: Intergenerational Art-Making Through the Years

Ox-Bow has played host to a variety of imaginations, the most receptive of them? Kids. Over the years, the children of professors, staff, guests, and neighbors of Ox-Bow have delighted in the wonders of the meadow, lagoon, studios, and trails. More than anyone else, these kids understand the magic of Ox.

Then:

Family Camp began as a place where artists and their families could gather together at Ox-Bow and make art. Created by Patricia Pelletier and Phil Hanson (the Academic Director at the time), the tradition lasted for over 10 years from the late 80’s to the early 2000’s. The one week class usually took place at the start or end of the summer season. In the morning, adults would attend class, while James Brandess led a session for the kiddos. Afternoons were reserved for family time: hiking, canoeing, or trips to the beach. Each day ended with an evening of intergenerational artmaking. Often hosted in the paint studio, group work usually focused on the creation of masks and costumes. Culminating annually into a Friday performance and parade, everyone would don their work on the meadow at the week’s end. 

Artists and families included Karl and Lori Wirsum, Bobbi and Steve Meier, Richard and Cathy Pearlman, Rodney and Renee Carswell, Paul Solomon, Nancy and Tom Melvin, E.W. Ross, Gretchen Brown and Peter Kuttner, Carol Neiger, Ginny Sykes, George Liebert, and Blair Thomas. A variety of disciplines were represented amongst the artists present including muralists, performance artists, photographers, ceramicists, painters, and filmmakers. President of Ox-Bow’s Board and former Family Camp attendee, Steve Meier reflected, “Many of our children ended up in creative fields, I would credit [this] somewhat to this experience – seeing artists work with their children among such a diverse group of creative people was a truly unique experience.”

Two participants, a child and adult, don homemade masks at Family Camp. Photo courtesy of Board President Steve Meier.

Now: 

For many Michiganders, summertime means beach days or trips Up North, but for artist and educator Kim Meyers Baas it means the annual Ox-Bow getaway. Baas first came to Ox-Bow as a graduate student from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where she received her Masters of Art in Art Education. After graduating, she returned to Ox-Bow several times to take more courses. In the mid 2000’s the student became the teacher with a proposal to bring youth workshops to Ox-Bow.

A child and adult work on paintings at the edge of the woods on campus. Photo courtesy of Kim Meyers Baas.

Baas didn’t view the idea as revolutionary; in fact, it seemed all too natural. Kim noted, “There’s always been kids [at Ox-Bow]... it’s a kid’s dream!” The concept for youth workshops took inspiration from her mentor, the late E.W. Ross, a loyal member of the legendary Family Camps.

Over the years, Baas has created spaces for young artists throughout West Michigan, most recently creating a canvas quilt portrait of Patrick Lyoya in collaboration with students of East Kentwood High School. Lyoya was a Congolese refugee who was killed by a police officer in 2022; his death deeply grieved the community, especially impacting a number of Baas’s students who, like Lyoya, are also Congolese. Baas, alongside a number of students and a few other teachers, painted “Through the Veil,” which was then featured at the 2022 Art Prize Festival. “I feel like I’m part artist, part community organizer,” Baas said when reflecting on her work. “Amplifying voices is my true practice.”

A child sits in a tire swing with pencil and paper. Photo courtesy of Kim Meyers Baas.

After taking a pandemic-pause from Art on the Meadow workshops, Baas returned to Ox-Bow with a new plan of action in 2022: family workshops. The intergenerational aspect of Family Camp had long enticed Baas. In this new format, Baas facilitates various “ah-ha” moments with kids, while simultaneously encouraging parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles to work collaboratively with their young artists.

Over the course of the four workshops, participants explore ceramics, cyanotypes, and watercolor. Each workshop coincides with a natural theme: earth, sun, and water. The workshops’ environmental lens is very much intentional. Baas describes nature as a key part of “the Ox-Bow factor.” 
In 2023, Baas looks forward to bringing back family workshops. She plans to continue exploring art and the elements and is eager to introduce more families to the meadow. Returners might also notice a new addition to this year’s family series, entitled Seek, which Baas hinted will include a campus-wide treasure hunt. By popular demand, the Water workshop will be held twice this summer.

Headshot of Kim Meyers Baas, courtesy of the artist.

Kim Meyers Baas (she/her) is an arts educator who has worked in public and private settings in Michigan, Chicago, and on the Mexican/Texas border cultivating youth artists and community workers since 1992. Her teaching and art making practice focuses on exploring family identity, inequality, migration, cultural recognition, art and technology literacy, and media representation in marginalized communities.

Research and interviews were conducted by the article’s author, Shanley Poole, Engagement Liaison & Storyteller. The article was originally published in Experience Ox-Bow 2023.

Artist Profile: Chidinma Nnoli

Chidinma Nnoli creates a place to belong in her holy, haunting paintings.

Artist and Ox-Bow Alumni Chidinma Nnoli resists those that put her in boxes, and I understand why. She describes herself as a homebody who rarely leaves her home studio in Lagos, Nigeria, but in 2023 she spent two months in London, three weeks in Florida, and another three at Ox-Bow School of Art & Artists’ Residency. It all began with a desire to explore new places and create without the pressure of deadlines. “I needed to pause… and put out work that I was curious about,” Nnoli specified. To spur this shift, she decided to get out of her home studio, and the country while she was at it. “I wanted to go out and see new things,” Nnoli said. And so she did.

Nnoli didn’t find herself navigating any major shifts in her work while she was abroad. Instead, she spent time resolving paintings and, particularly at Ox-Bow, enjoying quiet time for contemplation. “I needed time to be in a space that was different,” Nnoli said. She used those three weeks to follow intuition and pick up whatever materials she felt inclined towards. Instead of exploring new territory, she dove further into the subjects and narratives that she has paid diligent tribute to over the years. 

The pains of growing, 2022, oil and acrylic on canvas, 62 x 54 inches

This habit of diving deeper is not new to Nnoli. When engaging with her practice, it’s clear she has sunk her teeth into something substantial. Her past three bodies of work share a kindred core, but each investigates new subtleties and depths. “When I think about my work, I think about it like a journey, like interconnected phases,” Nnoli explained. She has ventured through this journey at paradoxical speeds. On the one hand, she works through expansive and cohesive bodies of work simultaneously; on the other, each painting reveals the dedication and attunement of an artist that gives each piece the time it is due, never rushing to complete the next. 

Like the artist behind the paintings, Nnoli’s work defies neat boxes and definitions. She skirts away from words that might assign theories and abstractions. “I’m talking about belonging and the search for belonging” she says of her latest body of work. And as she shares more about her practice it becomes clear that she’d much rather engage in conversation about matters of the heart than words that might threaten to academize her paintings. 

“I feel grief, you know, and I hope that's something that is visible within the work,” Nnoli says. This grief she refers to is rooted in her empathy for women, an empathy which serves as her primary lens for the world. When she heard the news about Morocco’s earthquake, the first thought that passed her mind was, “What are the women going through? What is it like for them?”

None of these clocks work, 2020, oil on canvas, 40 x 48 inches

These questions and Nnoli’s deep well of empathy are often sources that exhaust her. To replenish her hope and wellbeing she credits three things: detoxing from the internet, spending time with friends, and listening to music. “I have amazing people around me,” Nnoli glowed as she mentioned them and reflected on the power of having a community with shared values. Similarly, she fills her studio with the music of powerful and heartfelt voices such as Florence & the Machine, Lorde, and Lana Del Rey.

Nnoli did not shy from the label feminist being attributed to herself, saying she identified as such “even before [she] knew what the word meant,” but she insists that her work is more than feminist. “I’m talking about things from a very personal point of view,” she elaborates, “it’s very feminist, but at the same time, I think the art world has this way of running with labels.” She fears that such labels will constrain and limit her work as well as misguide the emotions of viewers. Her ultimate desire is not that viewers will see a painting as feminist, but rather as soft, sad, and haunting. She hopes others will walk away with feelings rather than categorizations. 

Untitled, 2021, oil on arc shaped panel, 34 x 50 inches

Evident also in Nnoli’s practice is an insistent muse who rises from an unexpected source. “Religion is very much evident in my work,” Nnoli shared, “That’s something I've been trying to escape somehow, but it just keeps coming back,” as is seen in her depictions of arches, halos, and rosaries. Nnoli described her experience growing up in Lagos as one shaped by patriarchy and conservative Catholicism. Though Nnoli’s works contain an ethereal quality, I would describe the religious elements in them as haunting rather than heavenly. They hint towards familiar corruptions present in reality. However, they do manage small comforts with an implicit proposal of a differing potential, a holiness rooted in open meadows, an overgrowth of flowers, and women whose faces bleed wisdom and sorrow.

As she reflected on the cultural context’s effect on her work, she realized “that's probably why I create these dreamlike spaces that do not exist… because I don't currently know where I am or am headed. I just know I'm just finding that.” In her paintings she can carve out this space for herself, and others.

While Nnoli humbly protests that her works won’t change lives, I beg to differ. I see images and narratives that have already touched viewers at Ox-Bow and beyond. Arts writer Daniel Mackenzie sums it up well when he writes, “The wider effect of spending time with Chidinma's work is one of comfort, that the suppressed among us are being watched over; that the lonely can find comfort in universal forces that, though not always easy to detect, are always there.” Nnoli’s modest hope and belief is that her works “might be able to start a conversation.” And I would argue that such conversations are the seeds and eventual roots of life changing actions.

Banner Image: Various storms and saints, 2022, oil and acrylic on canvas, 72 x 62 inches

Headshot of Chidinma Nnoli courtesy of the artist.

Chidinma Nnoli (b. 1998 Enugu, Nigeria) is an artist working primarily with painting. Her practice contemplates the importance of a single subject ’s embodied experience(s), overlaying the past unto the present while insisting on the emotional link between body and space often in conflict with self and a background mostly saturated with religion and gendered obligations. Nnoli earned her BFA from the University of Benin and has gone on to participate in solo and group exhibitions internationally. Her works are a part of several notable collections and have been featured in Hyperallergic, The New York Times, Colossal, and Vogue. She currently lives and works in Lagos.

Ox-Bow’s Summer Residency Program offers 12 artists the time, space, and community to encourage growth and experimentation in their practice for three weeks on campus. The Summer Residencies are held while our core classes and community programs are in session. During this time, a small group of residents have access to Ox-Bow’s artist community of students, faculty, and visiting artists.

Our Summer Residencies are open to artists at any level. Currently enrolled students, MFA candidates, arts faculty, emerging, or established artists are encouraged to apply.

To learn more about the Summer Residency Program visit www.ox-bow.org/be-a-resident

This article was written by Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole.

Artist Profile: Jessee Rose Crane

Jessee Rose Crane first came to Ox-Bow at age 24 as a student at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Thirteen years later, she’s still coming back.

Most recently, Crane returned as a faculty member for our core academic season. Her studio practice is robust, ranging from inflating steel to performing live music and recording albums. In her lecture at Ox-Bow House, she shared about finding a place to nest within the arts and in my one-on-one conversation with Crane, she focused on the importance of making space for others in those same sectors.

When Jessee took possession of what would eventually become Rose Raft Residency, she didn’t know its contents. The building, a defunct funeral home constructed in 1872, was most recently owned by a hoarder. Crane had not yet seen the inside of the building when she signed the dotted line, and when she first stepped into the building, every room was brimming with materials that had succumbed to mold and mildew. Rather than trying to sort through and scavenge, Crane took action outside of her ordinary. She threw it all away. And she started from scratch.

It was more than an intensive remodel that made the process of opening a residency in New Douglas, Illinois a challenging one. At the time, Crane and her partner, Philip Lesicko, had questions about how leaving Chicago might impact them. “We’re leaving civilization. How are we going to function as a band?” was the semi-melodramatic question they asked themselves. In truth, the town is only 45 minutes from St. Louis, making their claim of leaving civilization a slight exaggeration, but it was a huge leap away from their core community and networks. Yet time has proved they aren’t hurting for their decision.

On the contrary, multiple Chicago-based musicians have made a point to visit them. Recently, Ox-Bow’s own Madeleine Aguilar (current Print Studio Manager and former Artist-in-Residence) recorded her first album at Rose Raft. It’s partially because of the residency’s remote location that allows them to offer a residency and studio recording facilities at a more accessible price, a factor that Crane is passionate about. Many of the artists that visit Rose Raft come to record their first album or EP. It’s clear that Crane derives a distinct sense of purpose from bringing in artists at such a crucial point in their artistic journey. “It really is like a stepping stone,” Crane said, “it’s like dipping your toe into what a residency experience is.”

Doozy, 2017, mixed media, found objects, steel, wood, bronze, magnifying lenses, 8’x3’x9’

It was at an artists’ residency at ACRE that Crane initially started to think about this element of accessibility in relation to the arts, an element she’d taken for granted. At the time, performing music served as a lifeline for Crane, who was grieving the loss of her brother Nathan. She was discussing the places she performed in Chicago when another artist chimed in, “I’ve never felt welcome in those spaces.” It was those words that chipped the glass for Crane. She started to see the culture as less than perfect and she began longing for something greater, something safer. “That’s why you go to residencies, kids!” Crane said in both jest and sincerity.

Crane understands firsthand how impactful the residency environment can be.  It was her time as a student at Ox-Bow where she first caught the bug. “Having enriching meals and conversations and meeting people from all over… when I was student there, I was like ‘I want to teach here!’” Crane reminisced. And it was also during one of her summers as a student that she witnessed an artist’s talk that shaped the lecture she would give a decade later at Ox-Bow House.

During the years that Jessee was a student, lectures were given in the basement of the New Inn. One summer, Jimmy Wright gave a talk about his work. He presented slides on a series of paintings he’d made. Each were studies of flowers that were dried out or wilting. During the lecture, he shared about his partner dying of AIDS. “He spoke about it with such care, and just not even a white air of exploitation,” reflected Crane. To her, this served as a guide for how she could share about losing her brother, who died by suicide when she was in college. During prior album releases, she received several PR pitches that seemed bent on exploiting Nathan’s death for the benefit of the record. At the same time, she felt uncomfortable with remaining entirely quiet about her grief. In Wright, she found an example of how to share with love and candor.

Kink (detail), steel, plaster, 6”x3”x5’

This past July, Crane was able to share more openly about navigating arts school and grieving her brother than she’d ever done before in a lecture. An avid documentor of her work, Crane made a conscious choice to not record the lecture. “I will act differently if I’m being filmed,” Crane admitted, and she wanted the talk to be as honest as possible. And honest it was. Following the lecture, a number of students connected with Crane, confiding to her their kindred experiences. “How long will it take for me to feel okay?” One student asked her. And though she didn’t have answers to many of their questions, it was clear that just sharing those snapshots of her story had a profound impact on the audience. Or, to speak more personally, they certainly had a profound impact on me.

There was something deeply powerful and moving about the way she spoke to us, her audience. She stood close to the rows of chairs, she paced, she paused often, she lost her train of thought. It felt conversational. It felt… human.

During Crane’s stay on campus, I was able to drop in on her course Inflating Steel. Seeing Crane in action as a professor carried over a similar energy from her lecture. Present for an afternoon in which the studio was alight with students at work, I witnessed Crane coaching each student with her trademark kinetic and fervent energy. “Give it more! Give it more!” She cried out on several occasions as we watched the steel balloon open.

Headshot of Jessee Rose Crane. Image courtesy of the artist.

While Jessee Crane is often lauded for inflating steel (a method invented by Elizabeth Brim), her personal practice is quite expansive. In her own words, she “make[s] art out of everything.” Most recently, she enjoys working with lighter materials to make massive sculptures. “I’m trying to take care of my body,” Crane said. “So I can smoke longer,” she added with a wink in her tone.

Those interested in learning more about Crane or Rose Raft can visit jesseerosecrane.com and roseraft.org.

Artist Profile: Emilio Rojas

Former Ox-Bow Artist-in-Residence, Emilio Rojas (2017), responds to the last 15 years of his work. Even while looking back, he never stops the pursuits of forward and next. While on tour with his exhibition tracing a wound through my body, he has executed new performances at various museums and galleries. At his last stop at the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Arts, he takes the time to reflect on the process.

The exhibition tracing a wound through my body was first conceptualized in 2020. As Rojas began to look back on his work he realized it stretched back 15 years. Multidisciplinary in scope, the work investigates colonialism through film, print, and photographic capturings of various performance pieces.

“I’m making work that is not always easy to digest,” Rojas says, nor does it appear easy to execute. His performance pieces often require undergoing intense physical duress. “I’m interested in these sorts of intense experiences, or catharsis, rather,” Rojas elaborated. This is obvious in the capturing of a performance piece in which the artists’ arms are wrapped around a cactus. He spent hours hugging it in heat of over 100º F, conditions so extreme that it solicited hallucinations. In another video, Rojas sits under a tree for six hours, drinking a slow drip of sap from the tapped tree. The performance ends when he has consumed liquid equal to the amount of water in the human body.

Visitors of the exhibit inevitably might wonder about the why behind it all, and those that search for an answer discover Rojas’s work never lacks intent or poetics. “Performance, for me, it’s a way to process,” says Rojas. In “Instructions for Becoming (Waterfall)” the artist participated in what he described as a sort of rebirth. The photo was taken the day after Rojas moved to a new city and took a new job after a divorce. “It looks like I’m drowning,” he says of the photo, “but it actually felt like a purification.” This is not the only piece for which Rojas’s initial audience was mother-nature. In his similarly titled portrait photo “Instructions for Becoming,” Rojas disappears into the root system of a tree. He sought it out during a trip back to Mexico amidst frustrations and anxiety while awaiting his green card. “I tried to find a tree with the thickest roots to connect back to my roots,” he explained.

While reflecting on more political work, he shared the advice he once received from his mentor Tania Bruguera “Political art, it’s site specific, but it’s also time specific… you have to do it when it’s urgent.” Though he initially attached this lens to political art, the same can be said for the work that leans more heavily on what Rojas describes as “poetics.”

Far from completely abandoning the political nature of his work, Rojas has instead attempted to strike a balance between poetics and politics. Since 2021, he has created site specific performance pieces that engage with the history of the exhibition spaces. In the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Arts, he conducted a choreographed performance piece that centered around cleaning the Center’s Hanes House, whilst wearing Hanes clothing. His work is highly influenced by poets such as Gloria E. Anzaldua, Ocean Vuong, Nikki Giovanni, Clauda Rankine, Audre Lorde, and Pamela Sneed. Rojas views performance as “poetic movement… with your body you’re creating poetry.”

In his ongoing performance piece “A Manual to Be (to Kill) or To Forgive My Own Father,” Rojas literally dissects his father’s book Pequeño Hombre and reorients the words on self healing cutting matts. As if the materials themselves aren’t poetic enough, the poems he creates through the words elevate it all the more, as does the communal foundation of the process. Rojas refers to the process as “mining” for poems and invites others that have complex relationships with their fathers to participate in the process with him. During one-on-one sessions with Rojas, participants are encouraged to engage in conversation with him and construct a poem of their own on one of the self-healing matts.

Rojas started this exercise eight years ago in 2015. “My healing of that relationship has taken that long,” he expressed. Even as he continues to mine into this multi-year investigation, he keeps looking forward. The Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art marks the last stop of the three-year exhibition tour of tracing a wound through my body. Next, Rojas heads to Georgia to participate in a residency where he looks forward to digging through footage of the various performance installations he’s created over the past two years.

More information on Emilio Rojas and his work is available at emiliorojas.studio.

Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: Paul Peng

Hell in the Summer, graphite on paper, 28 in. by 20 in.

Peng discusses breaking free from artistic blocks, moving beyond the studio, and finding freedom in the 9-5.

When I sit down to call Paul Peng, he first appears on screen beaming a smile. Peng confesses he’s just finished another virtual meeting; “If I seem a bit tired at the start of this call, it’s because I am.” I’m charmed by this candor, his willingness to disclose what’s going on in his world. This same earnestness carries us through the rest of the call, a two and a half hour conversation, which spans in focus from his studio practice to DDR competitions. It’s 1:30 p.m. on a Wednesday, the most notorious slog hour of the work week and I too am a bit tired, however, the energy soon takes off. It’s not long until the general spark of the conversation has us both alight.

It’s been six years since Peng last attended Ox-Bow. In that time his relationship with his studio space, artistic practice, and career have changed significantly. A longstanding element of Peng’s practice is cartoon work, but his associations and explorations of this work have proved adaptive over the years. From 2017 to 2022, Peng rooted his work in exploring similarities between cartoon and mark making. By exploring their shared nature, Peng produced a number of works. This investigation he pinpoints as a significant shift in his practice. He noted laughingly that others might not be able to notice the shift, but he viewed it as a driving force that propelled him forward. However, in 2022 that curiosity found its end. Peng initially tried to continue the exploration, but realized the effort was forced. The question had gone stale.

Ground, graphite on paper, 38 in. by 50 in.

Peng next began to focus on object oriented ontology, most typically associated with sculpture, and applied it to his drawing practice. The goal was to create drawings that were actual objects and not representations. Peng produced a number of works based on this investigation. He laughs as he recalls, “I made some very strange drawings,” and ultimately realized “cartoons are representational, no matter how much I don’t want them to be… they are.” In retrospect, he recognizes it as a strategy to break free of his block. While it successfully did that, it more importantly made Peng realize that this was just another fashion in which he was “radically changing how [he] made art to match how [he] thought about art.” Now “instead of trying to change my art to match the way I think,” Peng recognizes, “I need to change the way I think to match my art.” This is the philosophy that Peng leans into today, an attitude that produces work indisputably authentic to the artist.

In similar spirit, Peng enjoys investigating how space affects his practice. Some of his favorite drawings of late have been produced in coffee shops. Though he still keeps a studio space, he finds freedom in pursuing his work beyond those walls. To only produce work in the studio, he finds, limits the scope of what he can produce. Just as thoughts can restrict artistic expression, so too can spatial influences.

Like many artists, Peng has juggled a number of jobs to pay the bills. After graduating from his MFA program, he navigated a variety of part time teaching contracts. He resisted committing to a nine-to-five for fear of the toll it would take on his artistic practice, but Peng found the financial pressure of these part time contracts to be a burden that still siphoned energy from his creative goals. He came to the conclusion, “I can't continue living life in fear… under this assumption that having a full time day job would like completely drain… because I'm already experiencing that through this weird part time gig.” So in 2018 he picked up a job in coding.

In undergrad Peng had studied computer science alongside studio art. “And no I didn’t do it as a safety net,” he chided. He insisted that for the sake of his soul, he needed to study computer science. He truly loved the world of math and programming. When he returned to it in 2018, he experienced an incredible relief as a he realized, “my life is big enough for more than one passion.” 

Over the past few years Peng has been creating more and more space for his variety of interests. He first felt this sense of permission at Ox-Bow as a student. “Ox-Bow was the first time where I experienced this environment where art didn't feel like it was in a zero sum game with the rest of my life,” Peng said. As it turns out, Peng lives a life filled with an abundance of pursuits, two of the more recent ones being DDR competitions and trips to amusement parks. He disclosed, only half joking, he might organize a trip to the local coaster park in Michigan this summer. As he anticipates his return to Ox-Bow, Peng hopes for equal parts work and play. Just as much as time in the studio, Peng looks forward to time to “frolic on the meadow” and venture out on the lagoon with canoes, to let art and life sit in an unencumbered exchange with one another, and to delight in whatever arrives. 

Birthday, graphite on paper, 38 in. by 50 in.

Photo of Paul Peng. Image courtesy of the artist.

Paul Peng (b. 1994, Allentown, PA; pronounced “Pung”) is a contemporary artist who makes non-representational and cartoon drawings based on what it feels like to be a real person. This feeling comes from his adolescent experience witnessing and participating in an internet-based folk art tradition of sad closeted teens drawing pictures of themselves as anthropomorphic fantasy creatures, anime monster boys, and other cartoons of things that they are not. Paul is currently interested in how his art practice directly extends this tradition: how his work, born from queer teen anguish, exists under conditions where that anguish used to exist but no longer does.

Paul graduated from Carnegie Mellon University in 2017 with a BCSA in Computer Science and Art, and has also studied classical drawing at Barnstone Studios in Coplay, PA (2013) and experimental drawing right here at Ox-Bow (2017). Alongside his art practice, Paul is a roller coaster enthusiast, a programming language design hobbyist, and an aspiring long-distance runner and competitive DanceDanceRevolution player. He currently lives and works from Pittsburgh, PA.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: bex ya yolk

The Mother and the copy, the copy, the copy, the copy…, 2022, paper, poplar wood, walnut stain, wood glue, 11x 26 in.

Book binder and maker bex ya yolk speaks to their passions: queering the maternal complex, broadening the cannon, and (of course) bookmaking.

“Thungry is a neologism,” Artist bex ya yolk explains, “a combination of two words: thirst and hunger.” THUNGRY is also the name of yolk’s independent book bindery. That evocation, hunger and thirst, encompasses how the bookmaking process started for yolk. “It’s kind of a compulsion,” they share, “I’m not a religious person, but I felt called to make books.” The process began in undergrad through their studies in graphic design. Yolk noted laughingly that most artists might make one or two artist books over their career to capture a specific exhibition or collection, but yolk had stumbled into making a whole practice out of book bindery.

Amidst the indie press community, yolk finds a distinct importance and sense of hope. “The publishing cannon in America, in capitalist America, is failing,” yolk says. In contrast, they see indie presses stepping in to fill the gap, “They’re carving out ways to exist and move forward,” and the contributions of indie presses and binderies are broadening the canon. It is yolk’s desire that THUNGRY will elevate and partner with queer and BIPOC artists. Collaboration, yolk specifies, is a core part of the work.

In general, collaboration is not uncommon in the world of indie presses. For yolk, partnerships keep the work engaging. There is a loss of control that they understand to be daunting, yet essential. They find that within collaborative work “it becomes more experiential, you’re excited about the literal joy of making, which gets lost when you’ve been doing this [alone] for a couple years.” To add a collaborator is to lose certainty, and thereby reinsert mystery. “We do this to connect with other people. Very simply, I am doing this to have someone else be like, ‘Yeah, me too,’” a moment and affirmation, which happens organically and in live time with collaborators.

Book Belly (the first prototype)/ 2021, acrylic, screenprint ink, zinc-plated wood joiners, nylon straps, matte, sealant, 13 x 45 x 7.5 x 1/8 in.

In addition to yolk’s bindery, they also have a rich research and writing practice rooted most substantially in exploration of the maternal complex. Their work asks, “What does it look like when that maternal narrative or that internal need is still there, but it might not be performed in this way that is traditional.” They call the theory they’re developing “the new maternal,” another facet of which includes degendering and queering the maternal. Yolk describes the maternal at its core as a care ethic of protection and nurturance. Even giving attention to something (a person or creative practice) qualifies. By this definition and in yolk’s words “everyone has the propensity for the maternal.” Plant care, teaching art classes, feeding the cat, walking the dog all become a part of the complex. 

The research has led to deeply speculative work for yolk. “I’m not really looking for an answer,” they admit. “It’s about posing questions.” This too seems to echo their collaborative work. The stories of others propel yolk forward. They spoke candidly of trauma they faced in the medical system and how what they encountered inspired them to speak loudly about what many AFAB and non-binary people face within the medical system. “I don't have any shame or embarrassment about the things that I've gone through in the healthcare system… I'm very open about that… because if I do [stay silent] they win.” By speaking out, yolk is finding ways not only to empathize and connect with others, but also to resist and destabilize the system that perpetuates this traumatization of AFAB and non-binary people.

Yolk also sees the maternal manifesting within the physicality of books themselves. A book can be seen as both a womb and a shelter. While yolk describes this similarity as a coincidence, it’s one that they’ve embraced within their work. Consequently, feminist theory has woven itself into many of their recent books. This can be seen explicitly in their works “Womb Cage” as well as the wearable “Book Belly,” while other pieces are more intrinsic in their maternal nature such as “Texture Notes,” which was created with handmade paper that yolk produced during their first summer at Ox-Bow.

Womb Cage Book, 2021, muslin, PVA, thread, polyester stuffing, basalt + limestone, 11 x 13 x 1.5 in.

Throughout conversation with yolk, they kept returning to the idea of connecting with others: “If we're really gonna strip away all of the pomp and circumstance… at the core of it, it's about connecting to someone else or a group of people,” yolk says. This summer they hope to continue to do just that through their work as an Artist-in-Residence and as co-faculty for Riso-Relations & Bookish Behavior. They cite books as a powerful material, an object which has been tied for millennia to the human experience. Yolk plans to investigate the intersection of performance and storytelling. They’re asking the question, “How can we explore storytelling through sculpture or dance or movement or sound or voice?” in hopes that their time at Ox-Bow can be, perhaps not a firm answer, but (even more satisfyingly) an exploration of this inquiry.

Headshot of bex ya yolk. Image courtesy of the artist.

Yolk feels this is a project destined for Ox-Bow. “I felt comfortable proposing this as a thing that could only really flourish at Oxbow… because I’ve already spent time there and understand its culture.” Part of this process, yolk feels, is a method of giving back to the campus, which significantly nurtured their own practice. Ox-Bow in turn waits eagerly in hopes of all that this project will surely evolve into.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: Mia Rollins

Alumni Mia Rollins talks process, permission, and the spring board that Ox-Bow provided for their work.

Mia Rollins is an artist whose work utilizes video installation sculptures to experiment with optical illusion, investigate scientific hypotheses, and journey into the mystical. While Rollins’s work takes big bites, it never seems to be more than they can chew, even when they go, in their words, “knocking on the door of a nuclear reactor.”

Early in undergrad at Brown, Rollins considered studying physics or environmental science, but it was ultimately the arts department that lured them. It was in the studio that they felt compelled to explore scientific principles and theories that had almost tempted them into a career of lab coats.

Prodigal (I-440W), May 2021, video projected on salt and cake installation, 1 x 7 x 7 ft. (as installed, dimensions variable), 3 min 45 sec (loop).

While Rollins incorporates and utilizes various aspects of their past in their work – their pursuit of becoming a professional figure skater, their father’s obsession with camcorders, their affection for physics – they still rank their first summer at Ox-Bow as one of the most significant pivot points in their career.

“My first time I went was really a huge shifting point in my practice… the Visiting Artist while I was there was Dario Robleto.” Rollins had been an admirer of Robleto’s work since age 15 when they listened to his feature on Radio Lab. “It was the first work to make me cry just conceptually,” they shared. During Robleto’s first visit to Rollins studio at Ox-Bow, the admiration was returned. Rollins still sounds giddy when they describe that initial interaction.

“It was one of those weird things... He watched one of my pieces and he was like ‘That was the best work I’ve seen in years.’” From then on, Robleto and Rollins became fast friends, while Robleto also served as a mentor to Rollins. He gave them one particularly impactful piece of advice: to knock on doors. He confided with Rollins that after 30 years, no scientist had ever knocked on his door, and that many scientists he’d called had said no, but a few said yes, a few had opened their doors.

Headshot of Mia Rollins. Image courtesy of the Artist.

Liberated by Robleto’s advice, Rollins started taking initiative. “That motivation changed everything for me. I went back to Providence and I just started doing that… talking to researchers at Brown University who were studying the brain and dementia.” That initiative propelled them forward. “The nuclear reactor residency came out of knocking on a door of a nuclear reactor,” which further down the road led to a NASA Grant. According to Rollins, “It was totally all due to meeting [Robleto] at Ox-Bow.” While not every situation ends in NASA Grants, Rollins time at Ox-Bow encapsulates much of what residencies strive to provide: a time to build community with other artists, to take risks in one’s practice, and to leave not just refreshed but emboldened. 

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Header Image: Sominum (Transmission I), June 2022, video projection on sprayed haze clouds and parametric, arcylic dishes, 12 x 10 x 10 ft. (as installed- dimensions variable), 7 min 15 sec (loop).

Archive Deep Dives with Abbey Muza

Dogfight, Chewey and Baby, 2022; silk, wool, cotton, organza, enamel, wood; 26” x 48”

Artist Abbey Muza.

Congratulations to Abbey Muza (2022 Fellow) on their Fulbright-Harriet Hale Wooley Residency at the Fondation des États-Unis. Muza is currently participating in their Artist Residency in Paris, France, where they have begun a series of tapestries inspired by queer artists and writers of Paris. Much of Muza’s residency involves diligent research in the archives, similar to the work they conducted while at Ox-Bow as the Leroy Neiman Historic Preservation Fellow. In a Q&A Muza shared they were “delighted to learn that Ox-Bow’s history is actually linked to what [they’re] looking at in Paris.” The beloved caretaker of Ox-Bow, Mary Kay Bettles lived on campus for years with her partner Jean Palmer and Jean Palmer’s sister, the feminist writer Margaret C. Anderson – founder, editor, and publisher of The Little Review – eventually decamped to France and joined the bustling literary scene of Paris in the 1920’s, which Muza is now researching today.

Photo Caption: Archival Photo. Mary Kay, Jean Palmer, and Norm Deam enjoy a canoe ride on the lagoon.

Mary Kay’s Legacy

Jean Palmer and Mary Kay Bettles lived at Ox-Bow in one of the many quaint cottages scattered at the edge of the Tallmadge woods. The cabin the couple called home is now named the Mary Kay in honor of the woman many referred to lovingly as the Sheriff of Ox-Bow. Nowadays, the building is used as housing and studio space for Faculty, Students, and Visiting Artists… though guests might share the space with an unexpected visitor. Many individuals on campus have claimed to have encountered the spirit of Mary Kay in the cabin. Fittingly, the place has also become a staple feature at Ox-Bow Goes to Hell. This past weekend Artists participating in Residence Evil, dressed the cabin up in the spookiest of fashions creating a haunt we’re sure our visitors will remember for many moons to come. 

Photo Caption: Mary Kay crouches down to pet her dog on the meadow. Archival Photo.

Fun Fact:

Did you know about Mary Kay’s love of dogs? She was especially fond of her German Shepherds. Next time you’re on campus, pay Mary Kay’s old home a visit: you’ll find her tribute to one of her dear four legged friends behind the cabin.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Sharon Louise Barnes Awarded Fellowship by Los Angeles’s Department of Cultural Affairs

Image courtesy of Sharon Louise Barnes. Photo by Bria Goodall.

This year, Alumni Sharon Louise Barnes (2019 Longform Resident) was awarded the City of Los Angeles (COLA) Individual Master Artist Program. During her appointment, Barnes delivered a lecture entitled “Resistance, Resilience, and Radical Beauty” for the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery. In her lecture she shares about her latest work and the inspiration behind them, including excerpts of poetry from Gwendolyn Brooks. Barnes’s ongoing collection Seeds of Wind is centered in what the Artist calls “poetic materiality,” which she describes as “an evolving practice using discarded materials, abstraction, and poetic visual language.” 

Each year the Fellowship culminates in a collective online exhibition of the artists’ works. The collection is currently live and Barnes’s work is available for viewing. Hear more about Sharon Louise Barnes in COLA’s 2022 Design Visual Artist Feature.

We’re so thrilled to see the work of Sharon Louise Barnes being celebrated and honored in Los Angeles and beyond. Congratulations, Sharon!

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.