Cosmos Nocturnes
I hope you’re doing well during these wild and woolly times!
Over the past few months, I have been collaborating with colleagues in the Inter-Society Color Council to present Color Impact 2021 (with participants from 24 countries around the world), hosting Fluorescent Fridays as a color research-sharing platform for university students, and developing the Color Literacy Project, a global initiative focused on facilitating colour communication across disciplines and connecting color education to everyday life.
Studio-wise, I’ve been immersed in painting projects (subject of upcoming blog posts) alongside a new series of paper cutout collages that I recently added to the Cosmos Nocturnes gallery. This series of twelve collages is titled Cosmos Nocturnes III: The Garment. I’m in the process of finalizing a “Studio Visit” video with the same title. Look for a link in my next post!
Why nocturnes? Somehow it makes sense to start with the cosmos. I’ve always found the Hubble Telescope photos to be truly mind blowing, and have amassed a sizable collection of beautifully illustrated Hubble books for my reference library. The dazzling night sky vistas connect us to the cosmic splendor of which we are part.
Mary Wollstonecraft was the inspiration for The Garment, with her courage, audacity, and unswerving sense of purpose. Her trailblazing book A Vindication of the Rights of Women was a founding manifesto of feminism published in 1792. As soon as I finished reading Romantic Outlaws, the Extraordinary Lives of Mary Wollstonecraft & Mary Shelley (Wollstonecraft’s daughter and author of Frankenstein) by Charlotte Gordon, I began to compose the nocturnes. This time, I decided to do something I’ve never done before—curate a persona into each scene and just include the garment. Sans head. Mary’s white gown from a portrait by John Opie is the featured garment in Black Hat, the first nocturne of the series.
Each collage begins with a Hubble photo, like the view of M51, Whirlpool Galaxy Spiral in Nocturne VI: Homage to Magritte. The theatre is staged with a headless actor and a selection of props that may include comfortable seating, an assortment of dinnerware, and the occasional gold frame. Often a curtain is pulled back, revealing an elastic moment that links the drama to deeper regions of the cosmos.
“It appears to me impossible that I should cease to exist,
or that this active, restless spirit, equally alive to joy and sorrow,
should only be organized dust.”
I was surprised by a few developments. Once the head was cut out (this act always made me feel a bit squeamish!) I noticed that I didn’t miss it. Specifics of the actor’s identity seemed beside the point. But, in a nod to the missing appendage, all manner of hats made their appearance, from the classic western model in White Hat, and a flying appetizer plate in Front Row, to the teacup/saucer “fascinator” in Nocturne XII: Soliloquy.
Yours in color,
Luanne