Linda Newman is a fine, good woman. she is goddess-like, gracious, gifted, gorgeous, giving, goofy and, yes, often full of genius. On Friday, Linda and I sat in our sun-drenched living room, looking at the most recent nail/wood prototype that i made earlier in the week, experimenting with different sized nails. Four kids frolicked around us in almost a surreal state of harmony, which allowed Linda and I to actually have a conversation. The sun hit the nail heads beautifully and she and i began talking about the community contribution to the wing. I had told her of one thought of people being able to paint the heads of the nails, but that didn't feel very inspired. A second idea was for me to just get the nails in the wood and then others could bring their hammers and pound the nails deeper into the wood. but that could be disastrous. men, women, children, hammers, fingers, noise. no.
And Linda, as rich of an artist as she is a deeply insightful human being, envisioned something which brought me to a new level of excitement and tears. She suggested red sewing thread. This thread could be tied to one nail and then connected to another and another and so on. An individual could spend time just tying bits of thread to single nails, leaving a length of it hanging in the breeze. Or, they could create an elaborate web of thread connecting many nails together. There would be no right or wrong way for a person to contribute to the piece. any way works. Cooper and Eleanor spent some time doing this during the weekend. Their process was silent, peaceful and intimate.
What Linda suggests, in my view, adds a vital third element to the wood and nailed wing that introduces so many needed things: color, movement, participation, fragility and impermanence. Yes, hundreds of people could spend their time tying red thread onto the nails in any way they wish and eventually, due to the elements of nature, their contribution will fade, decay and fall. And over time, new waves of people could put their thread on the nails. In binding a group of nails together, it looks as if a family is being bonded together by the thread. Or a group of students in a school. An orphanage. Or a small village. It's possible to contemplate these aspects of the loss while meditatively winding the thread around the nails with ones own hands. Of course the thread is red, representing blood. Blood that was spilled. The blood that runs through the hands of the living as they pay homage to the dead. The blood of life.
The past week felt like one of small accomplishments: a new prototype, a gathering of more wood from a kind gentleman in the West Adams district of LA, more scheduling organization, etc. And Linda's input was hugely inspiring regarding the thread.
On Saturday, we hosted a family here for dinner. Ilda and Chris came with their two children. These two provided rich insight into the cultural perspective of this art. Chris is deeply imbedded in work at the California African American Art Museum and Ilda's personal immigrant family history is so rich. It made for a genuine evening of conversation and turning over of ideas. I kept asking Chris about how the piece would be received in Rwanda next spring, and he kept shrugging his shoulders, suggesting that, it doesn't matter how it is received. "you just have to do it. And see what happens." He's going to help me be as prepared for that phase of the piece as i can be. He will be a link to Rwandans in the Los Angeles area and those whom i may be able to contact in the country itself. I just feel that he will be very helpful in that way. As it is now, he and Ilda are incredibly supportive. He left a catalog and power point presentation with me about a recent show at the museum: A photography exhibit on the orphans of Rwanda. I hope to find some uninterrupted time tomorrow to be present with this material and take it in.
Whew, what a week. I still don't have nails because i didn't ask for them. However, I just completed an artist's statement and letter tonight that i will be sending out to corporations and individuals this week to see what will unfold.
Oh, and today was the first day of my graduate studies. This semester's course: "The Roots of the Holocaust in Western Culture: Anti-Semitism from Antiquities to the Shoah." The first day's lecture was fascinating and I know this course will illuminate similarities for me between the struggles of Jews/Christians...Tutsis/Hutus. Onward...
