"Stephanie Cole: Secular Cathedral" catalogue published by Fuller Craft Museum by Fuller Craft Museum

S tephanie C ole: Secular Cathedral

S teph anie C ole : Secular Cathedral

In the seaside town of Rockport, Massachusetts, artist Stephanie Cole has been quietly working out of her antique home and studio for over forty years. A private and introspective person, Cole has kept her work under wraps for decades, showing it to only close family and friends—that is until recently when the artist’s two daughters convinced her to share her work with a wider audience. The public took notice, and her pulling back the metaphorical curtain led to long-deferred recognition. Fuller Craft Museum is pleased to present her one-woman exhibition, Stephanie Cole: Secular Cathedral. An artist, storyteller, and collector, Cole has dedicated her creative life to making found object assemblages that map her complex history. Executed in a range of media—from mosaic and stained glass to wood and fiber— the artworks traverse a wide range of themes, including family, the Earth, special milestones, identity, grief, and love. The constructions, formed with thousands of personal items collected by Cole, offer an intimate view into an artist’s life. Cole, a second-generation artist, started making art as a child, often sketching en plein air with her father. After his passing, Cole moved to California with her mother and later studied painting at the California College of the Arts in Oakland. It was in California where she married James Cole, and the two subsequently moved to Hartford, Connecticut, where Cole earned a fine arts degree from the University of Hartford. She would later study at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design, Salem State University, and Montserrat College of Art. Ultimately, the Coles settled in Rockport, Massachusetts, where they raised two daughters, Irene and Paula (the latter a Grammy award-winning recording artist). While she and Jim raised their children, Cole taught art at a nearby elementary school. Throughout her life, artmaking has provided an important means of selfexpression for Cole, and she often remarks that words are her second language. Her early creative efforts in painting and illustration were fueled by her relationship with her father. The two had a complicated relationship, yet their connection was close, and it stoked her early love of art. As she explains, “My father was an artist, and he inspired me to look at life through the lens of a pen, or pencil, or paintbrush.” Her early studies in painting notwithstanding, Cole ultimately decided that creative expression in two-dimensions proved inadequate, and she consequently turned to objects to articulate her personal narratives. In the 1980s,

< Grief Piece, 1996 (detail)

she began creating assemblages composed with all manner of things—ceramic shards, figurines, household objects, repurposed clothing, museum tags, seashells and natural materials, discarded jewelry, and countless other artifacts. The objects are carefully selected by Cole for each artwork, and while the utter volume threatens calamity, Cole’s trained eye ensures cohesive compositions that make sense and meaning of the sundry pieces. Cole has a remarkable perception of the quotidian items many of us take for granted. An “object whisperer” or Stephanie Cole in her Rockport studio. “thing medium,” she intuitively understands embedded meaning and breathes new life into discards: a fiddle case becomes a head, a discarded box is now a sarcophagus. “All of this exploration and experimentation helped develop my body of work,” Cole reveals. “My making ‘things’ using whatever was at hand enabled me to speak artistically in ways paintings alone couldn’t. Because of that, I now ‘paint with stuff.’” One might even say she is an archivist, collecting artifacts to preserve her personal history and mark important life moments. Some are joyful, such as birthdays, loving relationships, and vacation spots. Others are more painful—the loss of a pet, her mother’s passing, and Cole’s ongoing health issues stemming from childhood polio. But as an overall body of work, they tell the story of her life as a mother, wife, daughter, teacher, engaged citizen, and artist. Key West honors the natural diversity of a special vacation spot for Cole and her husband Jim with a commanding figure encrusted with shells and stones plucked from the shore. The vibrant abundance of Paradise reflects the layered symbolism of gardens, from the Garden of Eden, to more formalized historic estates, to the lovingly-cultivated landscape of her own backyard. The artist’s voice turns political in Don’t Wake the Tiger, a mosaic commentary created following the 2016 presidential election that evokes the power of feminine resistance. The three-part, stacked sculpture Warrior suggests the evolution of Native tribes, beginning with the outermost birch structure to the inner washboard slot machine. Some works also honor cherished loved ones, both the living and the deceased. My Golden Man celebrates her husband through a kindly figure articulated in the enduring element of gold. Grief Piece, conceived in the style of an Egyptian sarcophagus, honors the passing of her beloved cat Hazel. 4

Cole further marks pivotal life events through a series of self-portraits commemorating major birthdays. The first, created in 1992, honors her 50th birthday, which she describes as “a signature year in one’s life.” For this work, Cole deliberately used the most meaningful materials she could source for self-representation, from the table legs to the ironwork scrolls of hair. Her Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63 retroactively marked her 60th birthday, the three-year delay intimating the busyness of her life at that time. In this exuberant work, Cole celebrates her role as a caregiver and art teacher with intricate mosaic work, a vibrant palette, and multiple figures that surround her likeness. Her Self-Portrait Age 70 presents a multitude of materials to reflect the richness of her many years, including a snaking row of buttons based on an x-ray image of her curved spine, and a chair purchased for her 60th birthday. The power of art for Cole lies in its unique ability to represent both her physical and spiritual selves, and this duality is evidenced throughout Secular Cathedral. For example, Cole’s stained-glass works resemble stately church windows, yet they are rooted in domestic themes. Her lush mosaic panels hold space as altars, each one exalting an earthly person, place, or thing. There is a vestment adorned with clothing labels and a reliquary containing the artist’s DNA . Even the cheerful Key West dovetails the mortal and religious realms, its shell-encased arms outstretched in a cruxiate gesture. The works on view in Secular Cathedral illustrate the complex arc of Cole’s life and reveal a great deal about what the artist holds dear. Yet despite the autobiographical content, the detailed sculptures universally resonate. While viewers may not directly share her memories, all can glean inspiration from a life well lived and well loved.

nnn Fuller Craft Museum would like to express sincere gratitude to Stephanie Cole for sharing her work with the public and our visitors. She is a dream collaborator, and it is an honor to present her one-woman show. Many thanks to her family for their support of the project, in particular her two daughters Irene and Paula for encouraging Stephanie to reveal her work to the public after all these years. We would like to applaud Jim Cole for his able assistance with exhibition preparation and for creating the innovative bases for the stained-glass windows. Ample gratitude goes to Copper Hound Pictures for generously providing photography and video content for the catalogue and exhibition. Finally, much appreciation is extended to the entire exhibition team for making the project possible, including museum staff, catalogue designer Cynthia Randall, and video producer/ director Alex Griswold. B eth C. M c L aughli n Chief Curator of Exhibitions and Collections

S teph anie C ole Interview

You’ve kept your work private for most of your career. Why go public now?

I was pushed, lovingly, by my two daughters. I really didn’t know how to go about it, so they helped me to set up a website. I have avoided attention so that I could see where my artistic vision would lead me. Early attempts with galleries showed me that, in order to stay true to only my input, I did not want their association. That was a luxury I gave myself after years and years of hard work doing what many young people do. They get married, have children, finish their education, focus on helping their offspring to find their own calling. We have held jobs, rehabbed an antique house in total disrepair (which is why we could afford it), and lived as cheaply as possible. It was time to go public, but only if I could do that via non-commercial venues. I love museums and the way they offer art to people who care, who are inquisitive, who like to self-educate. It was also time to put my work “out there” because I have run out of room! I have created so many pieces, that it is hard to move throughout my studio! It is also time, because my work has come together in a cohesive way that makes a statement. Last year, you had your first solo exhibition at the Cape Ann Museum. How did it feel to share your work after all these years?

I loved it! This is what I have strived for. It was a way to share, to be acknowledged, through a venerable institution that values real art. People loved it! To create your artworks, you collect and combine thousands of individual items to make cohesive forms. You often find the perfect item to suggest a specific meaning—buttons for your spine, museum tags as brain activity, for example. Can you explain a little about your process, i.e. how do the parts become a unified whole?

I work very instinctively, so explaining my process is difficult. I save things that appeal generally, not knowing how they might be used. Sometimes, if a project is ongoing, I will seek out needed materials. The internet has been very helpful at times. After I have the inspiration for a piece, my next step is to find or create the basic shape, frame, or matrix. Assembling materials from my collections is a joyous thing. It all gets tied together with form and color, just like a painting. I generally don’t know how pieces will be used unless I am into a project and looking for additional specific things. I have a feeling about items—their

< Self-Portrait Age 70, 2012 (detail)

color, shape, subject matter. Most things get broken. I collect things without knowing their purpose, so I have built up a great palette of materials. Once I have them, I can “see” them in my head and know where they are. You have a talent for finding just the right item—whether it’s to convey meaning or for formal concerns such as composition or color. How do you decide what to include? How do you know when it’s finished? Sometimes the materials are Dining Room Window, 2013 (detail) the things that start the process. Dining Room Window began when my husband needed an antique knob for a piece he was repairing. I said, “I’ve got just what you need,” and in finding the brass knob that fit his project, I found a group of antique opalescent glass knobs in the “knobs box.” They don’t get seen in a box. They don’t even get appreciated on a piece of furniture. They need the light alternately coming through or bouncing off of them to see how magical they are. Thus the window began. Knowing when something is finished has come to me with age and experience. I can now say “I just know.” The statement, or the idea, or the feeling is complete. With so many elements at play, I can imagine there is some kind of preparatory work that you do. Do you use a sketchbook? I have a bunch of sketchbooks, but they are not preparatory. I only draw when we are on a trip somewhere. I can only think of one instance in which something in the sketchbooks relates to one of my constructions— the Key West headdress, which references a fruiting body from a Travelers Palm plant. I drew that in the West Martello Tower Gardens in Key West, one of my favorite places to draw. Your body of work, created over nearly four decades, marks major life moments, some joyous—your marriage, a favorite vacation spot, your esteem for the ocean—and some painful, such as the passing of loved ones or your health challenges. Can you describe the ways in which your work helps you process emotions?

Key West, 2009 (detail)

I am basically a happy person. I’m lucky that way. I was born that way according to my mother. Even the polio I had as a child gives me more drive than despair. I did not begin to crumble until basically the last 20 years, and I can still do my art! (Just have to have someone else lift it!) By incorporating things like grief, joy, or momentous occasions, I can feel “There. It is done.” I like to-do lists. Crossing things off gives a sense of accomplishment. The un-done thing can nag at you. It is the same with my art. It took a lot of art to cross some grief off the list, but it really helped. Being vulnerable is key to connecting meaningfully both with the art and with any future audience. I do not shirk this. Reacting to grief, or fear, or anger, or disappointment via an art project allows one to be in control ultimately. Sharing seems logical to me. I am gratified when others identify with my artistic statements. Has there been any event that has been too painful to represent through your work? There has been one event that was extremely painful, but nothing so far has been beyond expressing in an art project. The art is the way to deal with it. That piece is not like me at all, and it was very needed to work out some anger. It will not be shown. You live in an antique house just steps from the ocean in picturesque Rockport, Massachusetts. Has living in coastal New England impacted your art? You would think that being by the ocean would inspire things like seascapes, etc. I have never wanted to do a seascape. I am in awe of its vastness and power. What it provides is a feeling of what I think of as “an open window.” When we have lived away from it, I feel shut in. My mosaic piece La Mer is a tribute to that vast part of nature that I appreciate from afar. The beach right down the street has provided me with materials, such as beach glass. I like the surface of the sea-worn glass and I like the fact that I am helping to remove “trash” from the waters. Aside from being by the ocean, New England is my home. Having the change of seasons offers diversity as well as adversity. In the good weather, I am drawn outside to our yard, with its gardens and its animal life. The quiet of winter welcomes one to be inside, and that is when much of my studio work has taken place. My environment has given me not only inspiration but actual materials—feathers, antique pottery shards, beach glass, birch bark, and so on. Your environment also includes a lovely work space on your property. Can you describe a day in your studio? A day in the studio is what I shoot for. That means I have to have all my daily responsibilities over with. I don’t always have an art project, so those days are pretty lackluster. When I do have a project, it is always in the back of my mind until I can get out there and be my artistic self. My studio door says “sshh” and I mean it. I like it silent. I get deep into the art. My clothes have to be comfortable and they get pretty messy.

Your constructions are deeply personal yet immediately accessible to the viewer. Why do you think the work resonates with viewers despite being specific to your life and your experiences? My topics are universal, although I must add that they appeal more to women. We share/have shared many life experiences. We are the protectors of the nest (Earth) via peaceful means. I want for most of my artworks to have outer beauty, to draw the observer in, at which point one can hopefully discover a depth and many details. Your father was an artist who struggled to achieve success in his career, prior to his death at age 43. How do you feel his professional struggles impacted your own artistic drive? My Pop found ways to earn money using his artistic skills, but none of those jobs went directly to his artistic soul. I followed his example by being an art teacher and by doing various freelance things. I worked in a bakery and within a year they had me decorating cakes for special occasions. This brought in a bit of money, and I kept my true art apart from this. Not only have I been driven to find my artist soul because of him, but I have also felt the need to finish my college degree. No one else in my family has done that. They have come close, but did not go the distance. I have the few paintings that my Pop was able to do. He is in my heart and mind all the time. With a career that spans four decades, I imagine your outlook on making work has changed over time. What advice would you give your younger self? I would tell my younger self not to do such hard work (like moving big rocks, transplanting shrubs, and lifting bags of clay and cement). I did not realize that my childhood polio was going to cause me to deteriorate at a certain point. I am handicapped now. Do your ongoing health challenges impact your work? My childhood polio made for a bit of growing up and facing reality more quickly than usual for a seven-year-old. Then the death of my father when he was only 43 added to that. I recovered from the polio enough to feel fairly normal, which led me to do rather hard work. I was motivated to accomplish as much as possible, and I was later told (by the specialist who made back braces for me) that people who had polio are “Type A” personalities. Evidently we recover somewhat and we strive. I have addressed my physical conditions within my work. In the piece SelfPortrait Age 70, I referred to an x-ray of my spine when I included that in the piece, so it shows a rather accurate picture of it at that point in time. Even my Self-Portrait Age 50 shows a spinal curvature. In Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63, the central figure holds a small carved person. I had my husband take a photo of me in my back brace, then executed the figure as realistically as possible. I call that my “grip on reality.” The piece as a whole is a very happy thing.

Self-Portrait Age 70, 2012 (detail)

Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63, 2006 (detail)

Who have been your major influences and why? I can tell you of a few artists who have inspired me in the past: Grandma Moses, Louise Nevelson, Vincent Van Gogh, and Nek Chand. But I’d also have to say my father and not for the reasons you might think. He was an artist, and I think he was a good one. But he never got to reach his potential. I felt that deeply. He died when I was 13. In that short time, I was able to feel his drive to create. He wanted to teach me. My brother was not as interested a student. We went on many family sketching trips. I attended the little school my father created for young artists. I feel that I am living the life he would have loved to have. What are your current inspirations? Nowadays, it is not another artist who inspires, but an event in the family, the world around me, or just a material that presents itself. What’s next? I never know! Interview conducted by Beth C. McLaughlin

Iconic Figure, 1992 Wooden spoons, scrap wood, antique wood and furniture pieces, antique hardware, antique croquet set, glass, paint, brass, and artist photos 89” x 25” x 19”

Self-Portrait Age 50, 1992. Antique croquet box, family violin case, antique wood, gold leaf, antique “smalls,” found objects, family memorabilia, artist’s medals, plastic, and paint. 86.75” x 18.25” x 9.5”

Grief Piece, 1996 Antique box, antique “smalls,” seed beads, metal, coconut, marbles, papier-mâché, ribbon, antique miniature crown, wiffle ball, gold leaf, wire, hair, fur, fish scale, clay, mementos, paint, and plastic 28.5” x 5.5” x 10.75”

Warrior, 1998 (pages 16 and 17) Sticks, birch bark, yarn, plant dye, papiermâché, beads, feathers, tin, wood, wire, foil, casino token 42.75” x 18” x 20.5”

Aggies, Mibs, and Shooters, pre-2005 Antique marbles, antique glass, lead, junk glass, and beach glass 31.375” x 19.75” x 2” Cup-plate, Sky, and Landscape, pre-2005 Antique opalescent Sandwich Glass pieces, lead, art glass, antique glass, junk glass, and beach glass 29” x 20” x 2.25” Royal Reliquary: Loan For Amusement Only, 2009 Antique brass, old coins, tokens, lead, antique mirror, paint, pottery, antique glass, junk glass, beach glass, fingernails, and hair 31” x 21” x 4.25”

Vestment, 1997. Cloth and clothing labels from family members and friends, ribbon, thread, carved antique wood hanger. 49.75” x 16” x 4”

Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63, 2006. Buttons, antique pottery, children’s art pottery, wood, antique clay pipe shards, antique wood pieces, wire, mirror, and found objects. 42.5” x 20.75” x 4”

Key West, 2009. Wood, seashells, papier-mâché, pottery, mirror, tiles, coral, and paint. 76” x 42.25” x 16.25”

Self-Portrait Age 70, 2012 Garments, cloth, buttons, cardboard, antique chair, clothing labels, papier-mâché, paper, seed beads, artist graphic, needle point, felt, thread, stuffing, and metal 43.5” x 19” x 28”

Dining Room Window, 2013. Family dishes, broken glass pieces, themed shards, lead, glass, antique glass knobs, and wood. 46” x 14.75” x 4.125”

Paradise, 2015. Victorian frame, found objects, and artist pottery pieces. 54.75” x 34” x 4”

Drawing of Paradise, 2015. Paper, pencil, pen. 21” x 17” x .75”

Don’t Wake the Tiger, 2017. Old frame, new and antique pottery, Mexican coins, carnival glass, paint, ribbon, glass lens. 47.5” x 23.25” x 3.625”

My Golden Man, 2018. Antique Spanish frame, gold pottery, brass pieces, wood, gesso, gold leaf, wire, and dichroic glass. 55.75” x 28” x 4”

Getting There, 2019. Antique Victorian frame, antique pottery shards from artist’s property, antique doll bodies and parts, silver coins, dichroic, art and mirror glass, various pottery, buttons, brass wire, artist father’s paintbrush, old tokens, hair. 62” x 35” x 5.5”

My Last Three Windows: Golden, Blue, Pale Amethyst, 2019 Beach glass, Mexican glass, Sandwich Glass, artist earrings, antique doll pieces, lead, light bulb insulator, found objects, and dichroic glass 20.75” x 15.5” x 2.125”; 20.75” x 15.5” x 2.625”; 20.75” x 15.625” x 2.75”

Exhibition Checklist

All works from the Collection of the Artist. Iconic Figure, 1992 Wooden spoons, scrap wood, antique wood and furniture pieces, antique hardware, antique croquet set, glass, paint, brass, and artist photos 89” x 25” x 19” Self-Portrait Age 50, 1992 Antique croquet box, family violin case, antique wood, gold leaf, antique “smalls,” found objects, family memorabilia, artist’s medals, plastic, and paint 86.75” x 18.25” x 9.5” Grief Piece, 1996 Antique box, antique “smalls,” seed beads, metal, coconut, marbles, papier-mâché, ribbon, antique miniature crown, wiffle ball, gold leaf, wire, hair, fur, fish scale, clay, mementos, paint, and plastic 28.5” x 5.5” x 10.75” Vestment, 1997 Cloth and clothing labels from family members and friends, ribbon, thread, carved antique wood hanger 49.75” x 16” x 4”

Royal Reliquary: Loan For Amusement Only, 2009 Antique brass, old coins, tokens, lead, antique mirror, paint, pottery, antique glass, junk glass, beach glass, fingernails, and hair 31” x 21” x 4.25” Self-Portrait Age 70, 2012 Garments, cloth, buttons, cardboard, antique chair, clothing labels, papier-mâché, paper, seed beads, artist graphic, needle point, felt, thread, stuffing, and metal 43.5” x 19” x 28” Dining Room Window, 2013 Family dishes, broken glass pieces, themed shards, lead, glass, antique glass knobs, and wood 46” x 14.75” x 4.125” Paradise, 2015 Victorian frame, found objects, and artist pottery pieces 54.75” x 34” x 4” Drawing of Paradise, 2015 Paper, pencil, pen 21” x 17” x .75”

Warrior, 1998 Sticks, birch bark, yarn, plant dye, papiermâché, beads, feathers, tin, wood, wire, foil, casino token 42.75” x 18” x 20.5”

Don’t Wake the Tiger, 2017 Old frame, new and antique pottery, Mexican coins, carnival glass, paint, ribbon, glass lens 47.5” x 23.25” x 3.625”

Aggies, Mibs, and Shooters, pre-2005 Antique marbles, antique glass, lead, junk glass, and beach glass 31.375” x 19.75” x 2”

My Golden Man, 2018 Antique Spanish frame, gold pottery, brass pieces, wood, gesso, gold leaf, wire, and dichroic glass 55.75” x 28” x 4”

Cup-plate, Sky, and Landscape, pre-2005 Antique opalescent Sandwich Glass pieces, lead, art glass, antique glass, junk glass, and beach glass 29” x 20” x 2.25” Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63, 2006 Buttons, antique pottery, children’s art pottery, wood, antique clay pipe shards, antique wood pieces, wire, mirror, and found objects 42.5” x 20.75” x 4” Key West, 2009 Wood, seashells, papier-mâché, pottery, mirror, tiles, coral, and paint 76” x 42.25” x 16.25”

Getting There, 2019 Antique Victorian frame, antique pottery shards from artist’s property, antique doll bodies and parts, silver coins, dichroic, art and mirror glass, various pottery, buttons, brass wire, artist father’s paintbrush, old tokens, hair 62” x 35” x 5.5” My Last Three Windows: Golden, Blue, Pale Amethyst, 2019 Beach glass, Mexican glass, Sandwich Glass, artist earrings, antique doll pieces, lead, pottery artist pieces, light bulb insulator, found objects, and dichroic glass 20.75” x 15.5” x 2.125”; 20.75” x 15.5” x 2.625”; 20.75” x 15.625” x 2.75”

Credits This catalogue accompanies the exhibition Stephanie Cole: Secular Cathedral, presented at Fuller Craft Museum from January 25– October 25, 2020. This exhibition was curated by Beth C. McLaughlin, Fuller Craft Museum Chief Curator of Exhibitions and Collections. Published by Fuller Craft Museum 455 Oak Street Brockton, MA 02301 fullercraft.org Copyright © 2020 Fuller Craft Museum. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole, or in part, including illustrations, in any form without written permission from the publisher. ISBN: 978-0-934358-21-7 LOC: 202090079

Front Cover: Paradise, 2015 (detail) Back Cover: Domestic Goddess, Self-Portrait Age 63, 2006 (detail) Designed by Cynthia R. Randall Printing by Powder Horn Press, Inc., Plymouth MA Photographer Credits: All photography by Will Howcroft except those listed below: Beth C. McLaughlin, p. 4 Copper Hound Pictures, p. 8 (bottom), p. 15 (top and bottom right), and p. 22 (bottom left)