Saturday, April 3, 2010

Fiber Artist, Julie Kornblum: Visually Delicious

Entwined Copper Midnight by Susan McGehee

Talking with Julie Kornblum, April 2010

Julie Kornblum is a fiber artist, a weaver, a mother, an eco-arts activist, and a featured artist in the 
Fiber 2010 show at the Studio Channel Islands Art Center. 
Her recent shows include: “Materiality” at ARC Gallery in Chicago; www.arcgallery.org; “Women’s Works 2010” sponsored by the Northwest Area Arts Council in Woodstock Ill, www.naac4art.org; and “ReVisions, New Creations from Scrap” at two locations in San Francisco, sponsored by SCRAP, www.scrap-sf.org. 
She has been awarded first place in the fiber art category in the Art Buzz 2010 competition, which was published in a hard bound book, www.artbuzz.org/book.html) . One of her woven wall pieces was awarded first place in the 2-D division in the 2009 Juried Member show at Studio Channel Islands.


LV:  There is a specific moment I've been interested in lately, a moment 
that is common across different artistic disciplines. It's that moment 
where action is taken on vision, the moment when imagination is no 
longer just in the mind, but is becoming manifest by doing.  I've been 
asking different artists, and different types of artists about this, the 
pleasure of doing, why it's pleasurable, how pleasure is perceived  





(through which sense organ--is it mostly visual?), and what it is  
about that particular moment that characterizes it as different from  
normal daily activity.  A task is being performed, but not a pedantic  
one.  It may be a repetitive task, but it may not be characterized as  
drudgery.


JK: I'm about ready to go into that place again.  I just finished a project 
and I'll be starting something new soon. I have ideas simmering on the 
back burner of my mind, about ready to boil over into doing, to make the 
idea a reality, sampling, playing with materials, working it out. 

I've been wanting all day to go into the dining room and sort materials
while I visualize the project I want to do next. The idea is hot, burning in
my head. It's the next one in the queue, it started to bubble closer to the
surface as I was coming to the end of the last project. its always this way.
I'll start thinking about the next thing as I'm finishing the current one.

Sometimes it's not pleasurable. It can be frustrating for days and weeks.
There can be technical issues, the materials don't work the way I want them
to. I try something, and try it a different way; it doesn't look how I
pictured it in my head, or it just doesn't look good to me. I walk away, I
leave it for the day or I have other tasks and duties in life to attend to.
the idea continues to percolate on the creative back burner. This is the
working-it-out phase. Its in between the vision and the actual doing.

On my circus piece, "Behind the Cotton Candy," this phase took almost six
months. for the yardage I just finished yesterday, the fused plastic gave me
a couple weeks of frustration.

After this stage there will be a moment, an aha moment when I know this is
it, this is what the project will be. Then I can begin. And this is a
pleasurable moment. I'll feel a sense of accomplishment, like the pleasure
of solving a problem - even though the project is far from being completed.
Sometimes I'm still far from the actual doing, since there is much
preparation of the materials ahead of me. Sometimes its also a huge relief,
like getting your car unstuck from the mud, and back on the road. This is
especially true when there's a deadline for getting the piece done.

The doing is enjoyable, very enjoyable. Sometimes it is so pleasurable that
people don't want to finish things. There can be almost a let down when
something gets finished. Maybe that's why I start thinking about the next
thing just before I've completed what I'm working on. Starting something new
is the most exciting part. 

LV:  Is the pleasure coming from what you're seeing, or is it derived from a 
different sensory input?

JK:  It is visual, yes, but it extends beyond that.  Sometimes when
knitting or weaving, I so love the colors and textures of the yarns I'm
working with; the pleasure of creation is from seeing them up close in my
hands. Sometimes its tactile on top of visual, the feel of the fabrics in
sewing, or the yarns in knitting and weaving. It is akin to eating a really
well prepared dish, a soup, cake, roasted chicken, bread, wine - whatever
does it for you; only you're taking it in with your eyes and finger tips.
It's that kind of enjoyment. When I'm really loving the work is when its
visually delicious.

There is also the pleasure of mastery. When I've joined the right technique
with the right materials, and it all comes together well, and I know I'm
making something of beauty; then that goes beyond the senses. Another
element is meaning. When I make something that looks great, and the
materials and technique support the concept and meaning I'm hoping to
communicate, then that's the ultimate. Is it a conceptual pleasure of the
intellect? It's mental and emotional. I don't know where it resides.

LV:  Do you still feel this if what you're doing is repetitive, like weaving?

JK:  The fiber arts do involve repetitive tasks, but they differ greatly from
daily tasks because as you repeat stitch after stitch, you are building
toward a finished product. As you weave, knit or crochet row upon row, you
are accomplishing something that can be completed. Daily household tasks are
maintenance, they can never be finished. You do the cleaning, cooking,
laundry, and soon your work is all undone and you have to start again. If
you clean your house every week for a year, you'll still end up with a dirty
house. If you knit or weave every week for a year you will end up with a
pile of textiles - garments, hand towels, art objects, whatever.  

More works by Julie Kornblum are visible at:


Julie Kornblum's work amazes me, because she uses re-purposed and found materials to weave traditional and non-traditional pieces.  The two works shown above are large-scale weavings, and both use plastic shopping bags.  That's amazing.

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Saturday, April 3, 2010

Fiber Artist, Julie Kornblum: Visually Delicious

Entwined Copper Midnight by Susan McGehee

Talking with Julie Kornblum, April 2010

Julie Kornblum is a fiber artist, a weaver, a mother, an eco-arts activist, and a featured artist in the 
Fiber 2010 show at the Studio Channel Islands Art Center. 
Her recent shows include: “Materiality” at ARC Gallery in Chicago; www.arcgallery.org; “Women’s Works 2010” sponsored by the Northwest Area Arts Council in Woodstock Ill, www.naac4art.org; and “ReVisions, New Creations from Scrap” at two locations in San Francisco, sponsored by SCRAP, www.scrap-sf.org. 
She has been awarded first place in the fiber art category in the Art Buzz 2010 competition, which was published in a hard bound book, www.artbuzz.org/book.html) . One of her woven wall pieces was awarded first place in the 2-D division in the 2009 Juried Member show at Studio Channel Islands.


LV:  There is a specific moment I've been interested in lately, a moment 
that is common across different artistic disciplines. It's that moment 
where action is taken on vision, the moment when imagination is no 
longer just in the mind, but is becoming manifest by doing.  I've been 
asking different artists, and different types of artists about this, the 
pleasure of doing, why it's pleasurable, how pleasure is perceived  





(through which sense organ--is it mostly visual?), and what it is  
about that particular moment that characterizes it as different from  
normal daily activity.  A task is being performed, but not a pedantic  
one.  It may be a repetitive task, but it may not be characterized as  
drudgery.


JK: I'm about ready to go into that place again.  I just finished a project 
and I'll be starting something new soon. I have ideas simmering on the 
back burner of my mind, about ready to boil over into doing, to make the 
idea a reality, sampling, playing with materials, working it out. 

I've been wanting all day to go into the dining room and sort materials
while I visualize the project I want to do next. The idea is hot, burning in
my head. It's the next one in the queue, it started to bubble closer to the
surface as I was coming to the end of the last project. its always this way.
I'll start thinking about the next thing as I'm finishing the current one.

Sometimes it's not pleasurable. It can be frustrating for days and weeks.
There can be technical issues, the materials don't work the way I want them
to. I try something, and try it a different way; it doesn't look how I
pictured it in my head, or it just doesn't look good to me. I walk away, I
leave it for the day or I have other tasks and duties in life to attend to.
the idea continues to percolate on the creative back burner. This is the
working-it-out phase. Its in between the vision and the actual doing.

On my circus piece, "Behind the Cotton Candy," this phase took almost six
months. for the yardage I just finished yesterday, the fused plastic gave me
a couple weeks of frustration.

After this stage there will be a moment, an aha moment when I know this is
it, this is what the project will be. Then I can begin. And this is a
pleasurable moment. I'll feel a sense of accomplishment, like the pleasure
of solving a problem - even though the project is far from being completed.
Sometimes I'm still far from the actual doing, since there is much
preparation of the materials ahead of me. Sometimes its also a huge relief,
like getting your car unstuck from the mud, and back on the road. This is
especially true when there's a deadline for getting the piece done.

The doing is enjoyable, very enjoyable. Sometimes it is so pleasurable that
people don't want to finish things. There can be almost a let down when
something gets finished. Maybe that's why I start thinking about the next
thing just before I've completed what I'm working on. Starting something new
is the most exciting part. 

LV:  Is the pleasure coming from what you're seeing, or is it derived from a 
different sensory input?

JK:  It is visual, yes, but it extends beyond that.  Sometimes when
knitting or weaving, I so love the colors and textures of the yarns I'm
working with; the pleasure of creation is from seeing them up close in my
hands. Sometimes its tactile on top of visual, the feel of the fabrics in
sewing, or the yarns in knitting and weaving. It is akin to eating a really
well prepared dish, a soup, cake, roasted chicken, bread, wine - whatever
does it for you; only you're taking it in with your eyes and finger tips.
It's that kind of enjoyment. When I'm really loving the work is when its
visually delicious.

There is also the pleasure of mastery. When I've joined the right technique
with the right materials, and it all comes together well, and I know I'm
making something of beauty; then that goes beyond the senses. Another
element is meaning. When I make something that looks great, and the
materials and technique support the concept and meaning I'm hoping to
communicate, then that's the ultimate. Is it a conceptual pleasure of the
intellect? It's mental and emotional. I don't know where it resides.

LV:  Do you still feel this if what you're doing is repetitive, like weaving?

JK:  The fiber arts do involve repetitive tasks, but they differ greatly from
daily tasks because as you repeat stitch after stitch, you are building
toward a finished product. As you weave, knit or crochet row upon row, you
are accomplishing something that can be completed. Daily household tasks are
maintenance, they can never be finished. You do the cleaning, cooking,
laundry, and soon your work is all undone and you have to start again. If
you clean your house every week for a year, you'll still end up with a dirty
house. If you knit or weave every week for a year you will end up with a
pile of textiles - garments, hand towels, art objects, whatever.  

More works by Julie Kornblum are visible at:


Julie Kornblum's work amazes me, because she uses re-purposed and found materials to weave traditional and non-traditional pieces.  The two works shown above are large-scale weavings, and both use plastic shopping bags.  That's amazing.

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Post a Comment