03 john w ford selected catalogs solo exhibitions by John W. Ford

JOHN W. FORD HOUSE NOT A HOME

A publication of ISLA Press ÂŠ 2011 First Edition

VISUAL ARTS GALLERY

Emory University Atlanta, Georgia September 15 to October 22, 2011

This project made possible by:

Visual Arts Department, Emory University School of the Arts / Faculty of Humanities McMaster University The Pollock-Krasner Foundation Arts & Science Council (ASC) The North Carolina Arts Council (NCAC), a division of the Department of Cultural Resources

CONTENTS ARTIST STATEMENT

. A SYSTEM FOR EYES, HALF CLOSED IMAGES CURRICULUM VITAE

ARTIST STATEMENT - HOUSE NOT A HOME

HOUSE NOT A HOME - WITHIN / WITHOUT

To fully understand how these sculptures developed, it might be worth considering the work that precedes it. They have evolved from a series of monumental, site-specific installation projects linked to abandoned spaces in Ireland, Poland, Wisconsin, and the Utah desert, executed between 1991 and 1999. Each past project was unique, determined by the nature of the individual site, its history, and the variables of travel and work time involved with each. The last of those large complex projects, Preview, Process, and Archive (1999, with Berlin artist Renate Herter, following pages), and owing to circumstances beyond my control, it became clear to me that I must re-evaluate the purpose of such extensive projects in light of the obstacles that arose as a result of their inherent difficulties. I knew I had to reduce the scale and ambition of my practice if I were to remain active as a creative practitioner. I felt I wanted to simulate the engagement between artist and architectural space, so typical of site-specific work, but to do so on a more intimate scale. I began to consider architectural structures in new ways, and wondered if I might be able to create a facsimile space in which to work, and which might allow me to interact within it in ways similar to those in the larger installations. While the larger works provided an immersion experience - the artist and audience present within and becoming part of the piece itself - these new sculptures actually prevent the audience from a physical immersion because of the glass vitrines. Perhaps more of an emotional and psychological interface is possible, but from without, not within. The vitrine has often been employed as a device, and in my case, it is a vestige of the 1999 project Preview, Process, and Archive, where the glass case not only created an archive of precious objects, it also archived the process of making itself. The new sculptures deal with many of the same conceptual issues present in past, large scale works - found objects as indicators of human existence, ambiguous and fragile construction that seems somewhere near completion or imminent collapse, and questions of belonging or alienation - and I think they have reinvigorated a sense of purpose for my work. Ironically, the series title House not a Home suggests my internal sense of disquiet after many years of travel for work, and in fact a few actual displacements from places I considered to be home. When I consider how many times I have relocated in my life, I realize I feel almost

permanently dislocated; that I live in a house (or apartment), but it doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t feel like a home; that it is becoming difficult to remember a feeling that felt like I was at home. Shortly following the 1999 collaboration with Renate Herter, I received a package from Germany. Inside was a remarkable text by Renate, a recollection of her personal experience with my work. I include it in this publication as a way to suggest the sort of engagement and interaction I hope the viewer might bring to this new, related work House not a Home.

John W. Ford, 2011

Detail view of House not a Home: Angle of Repose, 2011 in the Trahern Gallery at Austin Peay State University.

A SYSTEM FOR EYES, HALF-CLOSED

A SYSTEM FOR EYES, HALF-CLOSED Sooner or later objects find John as if they had waited for this one chance to finally present themselves after a long time spent unnoticed. Take, for instance, the plain brown suitcase with its fragile contents which John bravely (and very carefully) opened once in an attic in Ireland. Which was just as well, since those particular objects require special care and responsibility. Doubtless they imply a special technique, a special way of working with them as well; a method which is based on and propelled by a certain respect for their unassuming appearance, for this insignificant existence contains the traces of former owners as well. That’s what we encounter in John’s installation as if we were on a journey. I suppose a public forum, some kind of platform, or just a provisional home must be provided for everything these objects have to tell us. And because they tell us so much, there can never be an end to it all, never a final form, never a terminus. There are, instead, always new possibilities and variations, over and over breathing back life into these stories. And John started to install and get established with all those special objects he takes along on his voyages. They emerge from boxes and cartons, get unpacked, unwrapped, spread out and arranged in a sort of preliminary order. In a trice we are in John’s studio, in his home away from home. Soon the objects begin to sing. In that way John finds his own system intuitively, as though with eyes half closed, trusting his hands which in turn trust all those objects they have touched, and thus explored, and therefore understood on past journeys. The temporary, transitory sculpture growing out of this creative process presents in its nucleus – as if a four-sided shrine – a collection of small objects which touch us, as it were because of their unassuming plainess. They show the trail of a voyage through the mind, connecting and intensifying those fleeting moments of past lives which radiate from each of them; weaving a story of unknown places and persons, past and present, who live there and are no different from us.

The outer field, is marked by four border posts or stelae and appears, if compared to the compact center, more fragile, almost transitory. On top of each of these four wood and glass stelae rests an open book under a glass cover. If we want to perceive the center, the nucleus of Johnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s installation, as the actual work of art and the outer field as some sort of path leading us there - then we can hear a quiet voice on the perimeter, sounding muted, almost hidden; a voice like a trace, a voice like a hint, telling of the permanent voyage through the imaginary space inhabited by art; informing all of those who know how to decipher this message - speaking of what it means to create art.

Overall view of the exhibition Preview, Process, and Archive, 1999 at University of Wisconsin - Stevens Point.

Detail view of the exhibition Preview, Process, and Archive, 1999 at University of Wisconsin - Stevens Point.

As I walk from one stela to the next, my eyes are drawn by single words and whole passages which illustrate the inner connection of those four boundary posts, beginning in the east and ending in the west. In the east where the sun rises and the day begins, is the entrance to the gallery hall, leading the visitor to the eastern stela first. Seeing - the open book is about seeing. Everything begins with the book - it is every understanding of our world. Seeing is the basis for all artistic endeavor. The two stelae in the north, pulled back almost to the far wall of the room, refer to something that is comparable with the situation in oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s own studio. By talking about the struggles in the material world (the book about Julius Ceasar) and the experiences in a spiritual world (the book about St. Peter), the pages of the two books are actually telling us something about two different but interlocked aspects of the artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s work; the permanent struggle with the material that should turn into a work of art and the adventure of inspiration.

Detail view of book, installed on stele in Preview, Process, and Archive, 1999 at University of Wisconsin - Stevens Point.

Finally, the fourth and last stela awaits us in the west where the day ends and the dream begins. Wishes and hopes at the end of hard work (somehow like the bringing in of the harvest) find a voice in the dream poem by Gerontius: â&#x20AC;&#x153;My work is done / my task is oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;er / and so I come / Taking it home . . .â&#x20AC;?. When standing, in turn, next to each of those stelae, I can see the inner space from an ever changing perspective. From this position on the perimeter, the objects still appear slightly vague and, in the accumulation, of equal value. Only when one gets really close to the inner space and its objects, the different stopovers of this journey as well as the dissimilarity and yet simutaneous relationship of the visual moments come into focus.

The installation Preview, Process, and Archive, as seen from within Renate Herter installation Hause Fraum (Head Rooms).

. View of the sculptural installation Haus Fraum (Head Rooms) by Renate Herter, 1999.

On the last day of my stay I am alone in the gallery room. To the south of John’s work I can see my installation facing to his one: three floating, ever so slightly moving “headrooms” made of paraffin, gaining a translucent fragility in the artificial light. And from the pages of John’s opened books two fragments of sentences speak to me and my objects: “Luminous bodies in the night . . .” and “Assure myself I have a body still . . .”. With eyes half closed, to trust one’s hands and body. For they store up what we have done and recognized thus far.

Renate Herter, July 1999 (translation: Jochen Becker) Renate Herter is a multi-disciplinary artist living in Berlin, Germany. She has been Professor of Sculpture – Transmedial Space, University of Art, Linz, Austria, (2001 – 08) since 2008 visiting professor, Institut of Media, Linz, Austria.

HOUSE NOT A HOME

Overall view of the exhibition House not a Home, 2011 in the Trahern Gallery at Austin Peay State University.

View through two sculptures in the exhibition House not a Home, 2011 in the Trahern Gallery at Austin Peay State University.

HOUSE NOT A HOME: ANGLE OF REPOSE

House not a Home: Angle of Repose, 2011; Intaglio prints, wood, glass, string, glue, and found objects; 46 x 57 x 29â&#x20AC;?.

House not a Home: Angle of Repose (detail), 2011; Intaglio prints, wood, glass, string, glue, and found objects; 46 x 57 x 29â&#x20AC;?.

HOUSE NOT A HOME: PROSTHETIC REFLEXION

Overall view of the exhibition House not a Home, 2011 in the Trahern Gallery at Austin Peay State University.

House not a Home: Prosthetic Reflexion (detail), 2010; Intaglio prints, wood, glass, string, glue, found objects; 36 x 37 x 28â&#x20AC;?.

HOUSE NOT A HOME: CHURCH WARDEN

House not a Home: Church Warden, 2009; Intaglio prints, wood, glass, string, glue, found objects; 36 x 37 x 28â&#x20AC;?.

House not a Home: Church Warden (detail), 2009; Intaglio prints, wood, glass, string, glue, found objects; 36 x 37 x 28â&#x20AC;?.