[shel-ter]

noun

1.

something beneath, behind, or within which a person, animal, or thing is protected from storms, missiles, adverse conditions, etc.; refuge.

I'm thinking about shelters as an animal behavior. A survival mechanism of scavenging your surrounds and collecting objects to create a haven. Birds make structures by gathering all sorts of items. Bottle caps, shells, nuts, twigs and glass are used to make their place of security. Bower birds take it even further and use their shelter building skills to express their identities during complex mating rituals. The shinier, prettier, more colorful and interesting their abode - the more females they attract. Sound familiar?

I think you can see where this is going. As humans we objectify things for our own needs. In my show at Fruitlands Museum, THE NOBILITY OF THINGS, I talk about the fact that objects are created for two purposes - to be used and to be possessed. They represent memory, science, social history and heritage. As Daniel Miller says "Objects make us as much as we make objects".

So... a can opener, baskets, computers, toys, furnishings, clothing and other homegoods all serve the dual purpose of utility and expression. We use them for what they are, but also to define who we are. Even more, materiality seems to be an impulse found in all types of shelters... even those without an actual roof overhead.

I'm just beginning to process these ideas and starting to see parallels within contemporary society, politics and recent economic disasters. How one can be blinded by both desire and greed in the pursuit of seeking refuge from the elements.

I've been collecting objects for the outdoor sculptures to be installed at Fruitlands this summer. Animal shelters of human objects that one might find in the wild. We'll see how it goes... stay tuned for updates!

Tick Tock

 

I've been reading tons about material culture  and the innumerable ways we as humans relate to the objects around us. While on vacation, and attempting to lose track of time, I read a caption about clocks as an invention by man to make time more concrete. 

Industrialization needed a clock to produce a world of measurable sequences and synchronized action and capitalism depends on regimenting human time and human bodies to succeed.

As mentioned in the caption, all around us timekeeping is ignored. Not only do birds and dogs work by their own rhythms, but figures of the past did also. Knights showed up for duty at sunrise. Siesta happened when the sun was high. Indigenous peoples worked by the lunar cycle. Only contemporary humans seem to concerned with the 'chimes of the hour'.

This caption showed up in my mailbox by chance - a product of a website my daughter subscribed me to called Stumbleupon where you're presented with serendipitous links to all sorts of information.

Lisbon's Flea Market

Lisbon's flea market is called locally the Feira da Ladra, often thought to mean "Thieves Market" (in Portuguese "ladra" is a woman thief) but it actually derives from "ladro," a bug found in antiques. A market of this type is thought to have been in place in Lisbon since the 12th Century and the name Feira da Ladra was first mentioned in the 17th Century. 

Imagine my delight when I found this! A real resource for some material culture field study. One interesting observation was the delicate care each individual took in arranging and displaying their wares. 

As you can see from the photos the commerce is not valuable - very ordinary and in humble terms - a lot of junk. But the objects weren't treated as such. They had implied value for the vendor who was counting on a consumer who agreed. I was moved by this and compelled to photograph as many as I could given the weather conditions.

I'm struck by the subversive placement of unlikely categories of objects. These juxtapositions bring more meaning to the objects than if they were displayed by themselves. The glass, beige sandals and plastic figures play off each other above.

  
Deodorant in context with gold tone watches. An iron with outdated CDs and polyester baseball caps. A red handled pliers and rusty coil sitting in marked contrast to the soft sweaters and white sunglasses.

These things are so omnipresent in our world, here and there (Portugal), that we stop seeing them and they become background. At the flea market I saw them for what they are and wonder. Where did they came from? How were they were found? What were they were used for? Who desires them and why? Where are they going?

Divestments

I am approaching the halfway point of my month long residency at Vermont Studio Center. I don't have time now to give words to the rich experience of being here - that will come in a later post - probably when I'm home and have had time to absorb and synthesize.

But for today I'd like to share some of what I've been working on and thinking about. I'm planning a body of work around the concept of material culture and have been devouring the books written by the anthropologist Daniel Miller. I'm taken by his writings because of his empathy and deep examination of a very complex subject. When mentioning material culture one's first impulse is to think of consumption and consumerism. Miller acknowledges those issues but spends more time contextualizing the causes and effects and humanity of the relationships we all have with our things.

Miller quips "Things make us just as much as we make things". This statement is much deeper than it first appears - with concerns around issues of identity pertaining to clothing, materials, technology, housing, birth and death. In short, he observes and makes notes on, our relationships with objects and how they define us.

The photo above is a work in progress entitled DIVESTMENTS. It is a tower of layers of shirts, blouses, and other tops that belonged to my mother. The act of assembling this tower has already been a powerful act of divesting for me on a very personal level. Miller writes, "... People use their divestment from things to maintain a control over the process of separation which is less violent and sudden than death itself." In other words, you can't control death happening but you can control your separation from the objects that were associated with the living person. There isn't a textbook approach, it's very individual, and mine is to express it through my sculpture.

This topic of separation from material objects has come up in my previous work called STASH where I put a call out for objects to be assembled in bundles and installed in a tree in Union Square.

Once again, I'd like to ask you all to participate by donating a piece of clothing that is worn on the tops of the body (not pants, socks, etc.). Something of your own, that carries your identity and that you are willing to divest of for the sake of the installation. Something that can be stuffed into a large envelope and mailed to me in Vermont so I can incorporate it into my final piece - my goal is to have it reach the ceiling. I cannot receive anything after Feb. 26 so it needs to be mailed soon to make it into the tower.

Thanks in advance to all who participate. 

Jodi Colella
c/o VSC
PO Box 613
Johnson, VT 05656
802-635-2727