2007 Exhibition @ Strathnairn Gallery

Memory Lines

I have always been interested in story telling and often think of my stories as memory lines. Memory lines are the threads of memories that bind and shape our lives. In another life and with plentiful time I taught myself to make simple baskets from natural fibres. These grew into larger and more sculptural pieces whilst I was studying for my degree at Art school. The pod form fascinated me. A black and white photo of me in a local paper shows me sitting with my pods looking very ‘arty’.

I have several Koelreuteria paniculata trees (Golden Rain) in the back garden of my home. The fruit is a three sided papery pod. This creamy white flora ages through a golden rusty tinge to a mature brown pod as Autumn grows into Winter. The Koelreuteria paniculata could be seen as almost a metaphor for my life.

‘The Golden rain tree is a fast-growing, deciduous tree. At maturity, it has a rounded crown, with a spread equal to or greater than the height. It has compound leaves that give it an overall lacy appearance. The leaves turn yellow before falling. The bark is light gray-brown and becomes furrowed with age. Golden rain tree is perhaps most striking in the fall with its large clusters of showy yellow flowers. These are followed by seed pods, which are equally dramatic! The fruit is a papery three-compartment full of seeds. In warm climates seed is produced in great quantities and there are always seedlings beneath a mother tree.” 1

This was my last Autumn in the home that we raised our sons. The transition of brilliant yellow to Autumnal brown will always be an evocative memory. The last stage before the trees finally loose their leaves is reminiscent of my current situation. I alone have the responsibility to clear and move.

“She sifted through the boxes of odds and ends, screws, rusted metal bits and pieces. Sadness overcame her. It was many years since her strong creative man whistled and ‘worked’ in ‘the shed’. The cobwebs and dust were layered on the remains of boxes of ‘washes and springs’ and the piles of broken parts that had waited to be ‘fixed’. Rolls of copper wire added to the flotsam of his life.

The sun was warm on her back as she dragged out the detritus. A roll of brilliant copper wire sprung away from her. She picked it up and desultory twisted it between her fingers. The loops and spirals were reminiscent of her days when she sewed and coiled her baskets. “ 2

This exhibition of my work has been a journey for me. I have used the flotsam and jetsam that erupted from ‘the shed’. I have tamed it in some aspects but in others I have developed it into forms or pods evocative of a briar rose. The thorns may bite but the beauty is ever present. My work covers a range of techniques and media but these are linked by the colours of Autumn, the fruits of the Golden rain tree, the lines of copper, rust and the bits and pieces in between. I have revisited my basketry skills and made use of the copper wire that erupted from ‘the shed’ to create the skeletons of the larger basket flowers and the smaller pods reminiscent of the Koelreuteria paniculata. The fabric I have used to develop the structure of these briars is Tyvek. This is a brand of spun bonded olefin, a synthetic material made of high-density polyethylene fibres is ideally suited and adds to the tortuousness of the construction.

The process of rusting and the associated imagery flows through the exhibition. Rust is the common name for the compound, iron oxide. It can be seen as symbol of decay but it often produces shimmering and lustrous colours, comparable to the colours of the golden rain tree and there the cycle continues.

1.http://www.floridata.com
2. “And she moved on” Short story by Barbara Jackson