"Literary Muse" – An Artistic Dialogue influenced by Literature
A celebration of the symbiotic relationship between visual art and the written word. We invited artists and writers to explore the profound impact that poems, prose and the written word have on our creative consciousness. As well as the gallery of art work submitted we also had an excellent range of written peices mixed in with art which you will find here.
Artist name - Kate Rigby
Bio: Kate Rigby is widely published and has been writing for over four decades. She writes mainly edgy or retro novels, but also flash fiction, short stories and poetry.
Instagram account - https://instagram.com/kate_jay_r
Description of the work
I misread the words my mum had signed off her email with as 'lofts of love' instead of 'lots of love' as she often signs off. The phrase lent itself to poetry!
Lofts of love she signed off in her email
for the night, in error or fatigue or freudian slip
before retiring aloft to her slumbers
leaving me with a—well, lofty—image high up
in the gods, open to the clouds and angels
where lovers are exalted. Or the tops of grand
forgotten mansions where attic rafters
and floorboards steal the sun before
the lower floors get a look-in and have to
make do with the leftovers if they're even
that lucky. Where in their upper secret hideouts
lovers entwine like the ancient branches without.
© Kate Rigby 2023
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Artist name James Mellor
Instagram account - @jamesmellor06
Metamorphosis
In the realm of wire, where visions take flight,
James Mellor crafts a series, bold and bright.
"Metamorphosis" unfolds, a story to tell,
In an immersive space, where emotions swell.
Suspended in air, a delicate dance,
Wire sculptures hang, a visual trance.
Concepts of change, both broad and fine,
Transformative tales in each design.
Through dim-lit spaces, an otherworldly grace,
The installation beckons, a sensory embrace.
Young adults wander, through sculptures they weave,
A journey of introspection, in the art they believe.
Wire, the medium, transparent, and frail,
Symbolizing the human, vulnerable and hale.
Transformation's essence, both near and far,
In each wire creation, a metaphoric star.
Human connection, a theme that entwines,
Sculptures depicting ties, where empathy shines.
Cooperation's dance, in wire's gentle sway,
A call for community, in the art's silent display.
Metamorphosis
Through the Artist's hand-crafted wire sculptures and the transformative power of light and color, they explore the profound themes of change, metamorphosis, and the intricate workings of the human mind. The photographic series, brought to life through projector light, offers viewers a glimpse into a world where wire and shadows merge to convey the intricate stories of transformation and the human experience. Each wire sculpture is born from the raw material itself, intricately crafted by hand, much like the changes that we, as humans, undergo throughout our lives. These sculptures are symbolic of the malleability and resilience of the human spirit, capable of adapting and evolving in the face of challenges and growth. The stark contrast between the dark void of the background and the vibrant, reflective colors of the wire symbolizes the journey of change transition from obscurity to self-discovery
Metamorphosis
Through this photographic series, it invites viewers to contemplate the ever-evolving nature of the human experience. The wire sculptures, bathed in the ephemeral light, inspire introspection and an exploration of metamorphosis. The series acts as a visual narrative, encouraging viewers to embrace the beauty in the transformation, the resilience in adversity, and the vibrant colors that emerge from the depths of the human soul. In the intertwining of wire and light. Seeking to foster a sense of wonder, hope, and understanding about the human experience. The art is a testament to the power of change and the endless possibilities that exist within the human mind and spirit. It is an invitation to explore the shadows, discover the light, and recognize that the process of metamorphosis is a profound and beautiful journey we all share.
Life cycles unfurl, from birth to demise,
Wire whispers tales of temporal ties.
Impermanence woven, in delicate strands,
A reflection of life, where eternity stands.
Nature's resilience, a tribute in wire,
Adaptability echoed, higher and higher.
From roots to the sky, a lesson they teach,
As young minds explore, the wisdom they reach.
Mental states in wire, chaos to serene,
A journey through consciousness, unseen.
From confusion's tangle to clarity's gleam,
Each sculpture narrates, in the wire's silent stream.
In the hearts of the young, well-being takes root,
As "Metamorphosis" weaves its visual loot.
Introspection blooms, emotions set free,
A sanctuary of art, where transformation can be.
James Mellor's creation, a gift to the soul,
A series of wire, where stories unfold.
"Metamorphosis" whispers, in silent repose,
A catalyst for change, as young minds compose.
Metamorphosis
The process of metamorphosis, both physical and psychological, is not linear but a fluid dance of light and dark, art capturing this intricate choreography. The interplay between the wire and the projected light reflects the duality of our experiences, where moments of brilliance emerge from the depths of obscurity. The transition from darkness to vibrant hues symbolizes the transformation by undergo as we navigate the labyrinth of change, embracing the spectrum of emotions and thoughts that accompany the journey. The dark void in the background signifies the unknown, the uncharted territory of transformation, and the depths of the human psyche. It serves as a reminder that even in the most challenging and uncertain times, there is potential for growth and enlightenment. The darkness is not something to fear, but a canvas for transformation.
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Artist name - Carla Lobmier
Instagram account - @vandanceboat
Description of the work
Grace In Dwelling, the book, was published on the occasion of the Queens Museum exhibition and includes detailed images of the painting of the same title as well as text and photographs of interviewed participants. My Word document is an excerpt from the book with the text and photograph of one of the participants. The entire book with the text from all of the participants can be viewed at https://carlalobmier.com/grace-in-dwelling.html. All the text on the art piece was selected and lettered by me to make the house of text. The literary inspiration and component for this visual work come directly from my community of thinkers who offered up their words.
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Artist name - Conrad Milne (Dystopian Artist)
Instagram account https://www.instagram.com/dystopianartist/
Description of the work
After recently connecting with Peter Graves Roberts, we discussed collaborating on words and imagery, and this submission opportunity fit perfectly.
The visual response to "stillness, Kate" by Peter Graves Roberts captures the essence of the prose by symbolizing the transition from chaos to calm through landscape and natural elements. A simplistic, predominantly black-and-white colour palette enhances the contrast between past turbulence and present stillness. Integrating words from the prose adds a textual layer, emphasizing key themes and deepening the connection to the narrative. The artwork features a less delineated structure, playing with font sizes and opacity. Sentences are restructured haphazardly and pushed away from a centralized position, making the verses crammed and disjointed. This approach creates a greater visual impact, encouraging deeper viewer interaction. The disarray of the text mirrors the speaker's journey from chaos to tranquility, highlighting a profound appreciation for calm after a lifetime of relentless motion.
This is the full Prose that inspired the Artwork that is in the gallery section here
"stillness, Kate" ( written by Peter Graves Roberts)
Forced into motion from birth restless nature or prodded, goaded, and hurried- worried along. it's no wonder I've come to love the stillness, Kate. after a lifetime as this object is always in motion. I don't miss the exhaust from the cyclically bellowing diesel trucks in the parking lot by the post office in the dust and howling sand blower as the ice truck's compressor shakes freezing money for the day's delivery, no Kate. I much prefer the times now when all that shaking noise is done, none but thunderstorms and falling rain and steam, flash-fortified with all the trash of human footprints vaporized and rising from the retail blacktop. it's still in my light blue bed in my room a stillness of a shaken head.
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Artist name -mLucas Rebelo
Instagram account - @luqalbuq
Description of the work
BIO: Lucas Rebelo (b. 1991) is an experimental audiovisual artist from the Brazilian Amazon. He started working with art in 2018 when he helped produce some dance videos. Since then, he started producing his videos, and having them shown at festivals around the world. In addition to video, he also works with music, photography, digital art, and writing, all with a strong focus on experimentalism and improvisation.
"The Great Garden" is a short film I made based on the poem of the same name by poet Edith Södergran. In the poem, she says that we are all equal and that we should learn to live together with nature, which I find very inspiring and matches my artistic practice. In the link below, you have access to the original poem in English in the "Files & Attachments" part, in addition to the video whose password is also available below.
https://filmfreeway.com/Thegreatgarden
Password: Ogj_Tgg2023
Frame of the video based on the poem written by Edith Södergran called "The Great Garden".
ENGLISH transcript of the video -
PORTUGUÊS
***O GRANDE JARDIM***
Somos todos andarilhos sem lar
e somos todos irmãos e irmãs.
Rumamos nus em trapos com nossas mochilas,
mas o que os príncipes possuem em comparação a nós?
Tesouros fluem até nós pelo ar,
eles não podem ser medidos pelo preço do ouro.
Quanto mais envelhecemos
mais certamente sabemos que somos irmãos e irmãs.
Não temos nada a ver com o resto da criação
do que dá-la às almas.
Se eu tivesse um grande jardim
eu convidaria todos os meus irmãos e irmãs para lá.
Todos e cada um trariam consigo um grande tesouro.
Já que não temos pátria poderíamos nos tornar um povo.
Construiríamos uma treliça ao redor de nosso jardim
para que nenhum som do mundo nos alcançasse.
De nosso jardim silencioso
daríamos ao mundo uma nova vida.
***THE GREAT GARDEN***
We are all homeless wanderers
and we are all brothers and sisters.
Naked we go in rags with our knapsacks,
but what do princes possess in comparision with us?
Treasures stream to us through the air,
they cannot be measured by the weight of gold.
The older we grow
the more surely we know that we are brothers and sisters.
We have nothing else to do with the rest of creation
than to give it to souls.
If I had a great garden
I would invite all my brothers and sisters to it.
Each and every one would take with him a great treasure.
Since we have no homeland we could become a people.
We would build a trellis around our garden
so that no sound from the world could reach us.
From our silent garden
we would give the world a new life.
ESPAÑOL/CASTELLANO
FRANCÊS
***LE GRAND JARDIN***
Nous sommes tous des vagabonds sans abri
et nous sommes tous frères et sœurs.
Nus, nous marchons en haillons avec nos sacs à dos,
mais que possèdent les princes en comparaison de nous ?
Les trésors nous parviennent dans les airs,
ils ne peuvent pas être mesurés au poids de l’or.
Plus nous vieillissons
plus nous savons sûrement que nous sommes frères et sœurs.
Nous n'avons rien d'autre à voir avec le reste de la création
que de le donner aux âmes.
Si j'avais un grand jardin
J'y inviterais tous mes frères et sœurs.
Chacun emporterait avec lui un immense trésor.
Puisque nous n’avons pas de patrie, nous pourrions devenir un peuple.
Nous construirions un treillis autour de notre jardin
afin qu'aucun bruit du monde ne puisse nous atteindre.
De notre jardin silencieux
nous donnerions au monde une nouvelle vie.
***EL GRAN JARDIN***
Todos somos vagabundos sin hogar
y todos somos hermanos y hermanas.
Desnudos andamos en harapos con nuestras mochilas,
pero ¿qué poseen los príncipes en comparación con nosotros?
Los tesoros nos llegan por el aire,
no se pueden medir por el peso del oro.
Cuanto más envejecemos
más seguramente sabemos que somos hermanos y hermanas.
No tenemos nada más que hacer con el resto de la creación.
que dárselo a las almas.
Si tuviera un gran jardín
Invitaría a todos mis hermanos y hermanas a ello.
Todos y cada uno llevarían consigo un gran tesoro.
Como no tenemos patria, podríamos convertirnos en un pueblo.
Construiríamos un enrejado alrededor de nuestro jardín.
para que ningún sonido del mundo nos alcance.
De nuestro jardín silencioso
le daríamos al mundo una nueva vida.
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Artist name - Clare Charnley
social media - www.clarecharnley.com
Description of the work
This work is both an artwork and a piece of writing…
Scarcely, you will agree, a venerable object
In Three Guineas, Virginia Woolf imagines a badge of motherhood – a tuft of horsehair on the left shoulder. This image concludes a long, playful passage about the sartorial trappings of male power. Writing at a time when women were barred from the professions that sported judicial wigs, ecclesiastical gowns, military regalia etc., and referring to a previous injunction by the universities against women graduates using relevant initials (B.A. etc) after their names, she brings up the idea of women wearing such symbols. In an ironic reference to St Paul’s injunction to women to deport themselves modestly, Woolf humorously points out that it would be considered gauche for women to display any badge of worth whatsoever, although men were honoured for doing just that.
She then draws a shocking analogy. Such a badge of female honour would be;
‘a barbarity which deserves the ridicule which we bestow upon the rites of savages’
During the course of her essay, Wolf pretendeds to take up a position she doesn’t hold. We are in on the joke. But concerning the ‘rites of savages’ things are not so clear. Maybe she is mocking a patriarchal model of ‘civilisation’ as a hierarchy with ‘savages’ at the bottom of a promenade of progress and what she refers to as ‘educated men’ at the top. After all she later criticises British foreign policy. But when she writes of the rites of savages, I’m not sure if there is a twinkle in eye of her text, or not.
I read Three Guineas at the same time as Maggie Gee’s Virginia Woolf in Manhattan. And I wonder if Gee has a (fictional) point. In her book, the famous author comes back to life in the twenty first century. Woolf, the bold and deeply radical thinker, the pacifist antifascist, who used feminist critique to rethink the family, education, poverty, employment and more, is still a person from the early 20th century. She raised issues we are still grapping with two generations later, but in Gee’s comic imagination, she also clings haughtily to class prejudice.
Back to ‘the barbarity which deserves’ - Three Guineas came out eighty years ago and forty years before Siad published Orientalism. If my hunch is right (and I’m still not sure if it is), if some of the deep-rooted biases of her time and place slipped by someone as fresh thinking and far sighted as Virginia Woolf,
then how many have slipped by me?
Let a tuft of horsehair on the left shoulder be a medal for motherhood –
as Woolf’s essay proposes – why not?
It knows its own ridiculousness.
Scarcely, you will agree, a venerable object mirrors the fun and pretense of Woolf’s essay. A combination of real and fake. Real horse hair, real Victorian military epaulette (at least according to Nick on ebay) but the thing holding the two together is a plastic bell for a wedding cake.
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Artist name - Anne Gart
Instagram account https://www.instagram.com/artannegart/
Description of the work
New Test 123 short film https://www.annegart.com/flammable-formula and photography were assembled from strands of thoughts on intersectional feminism floating through culture. New Test 123 is an arthouse film, postmodern in character and based on the poem by Jania Ashlynn (please see attached). We invite our viewer to participate in creative freedom by constructing their own narratives for the images.
When I’m left to my own devices, when it’s just me and the things that touch my skin, I find myself pouring the tellings of my existence.
Whatever I see, whatever I so choose to think and feel, I let it seep from me. Questions and answers and wants and needs flowing from every pore.
I often wonder who I’d be without it, my beloved ink and page. My cherished hues and gradients of feeling.
I’ve made my promises to honesty, bargained with its incessant need to find the light. I took from it what it asked of me. I gave it what it claimed to need.
Who am I, you ask? What brings me back to this persistent lover, my consistent confidant, my tempter, my ink and page?
I could cast responsibility to circumstance. Perhaps pain or some other unspeakable flaw. But I blame nature. I believe my body is guilty. I am made of ink and page. My every word pumping blood, binding bone, drawing and expelling breath.
There are others that seek to delineate all the tangled things that live and breathe within me. Those that desire to question if words are truly my only means of carrying on.
Regardless of who refuses to listen, I must say that I have never lived by the wanderings of others. Their ever-changing lustful gaze, raking its way across every twist and curve of this vessel.
They’ve never laid a finger on the tales that rush along my skin.
Whatever ebbs and flows, whatever leaves and returns, whatever inhales and exhales, my ink and page remains. So eyes can wander, ignorance can speak, farcities may spin, but I will remain like this. Filled. Brimless.
And for all purposes of life and death, I will remain free.