Susanna Blunt

Introduction

2009-05-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

This week, my first blog entry is to show some photographs of the sculptures I made for a one-woman show in 2008. I will also include for those who might be interested the statement I wrote for my catalogue, which describes the way I think about making art.

Still Being: 24 “ L, 9 ½ “ H, 10 “ D

Acrylic polymer, graphite, leather, painted wood.

Grappling in the Dream: 14 “ L, 14 “ H, 6 ½ “ D

Wax-covered cloth dolls, steel, ebony wood.

Dream Chamber: 6 ½ “ L, 5 ½ “ D, 20 ½ “ H

Wire, glass, concrete.

Wrapture: 19 “ L, 11 ¾ “ H, 16 “ D

Fabric wool, metal, leather, stucco, paint, wood, graphite.

Triple Entity: 3 ‘ H, 21 ‘ at triangular base

Steel rods, wire.

Double Entendre: 6 ‘ H, 2 ½ ‘ L, 2 ‘ D

Steel wire, pipe cleaner wire.

More pieces

2009-05-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

Here are a few more pieces I would like to share with you.

Flight of Fancy: 10 “ H, 10 “ L, 10 “ D

Wire mesh, plastic mesh paper, feathers.

Untitled: 14 “ L, 18 “ H, 6 “ D

Cloth doll, wire, burnt wood, nails.

Untitled: 30 “ L, 8 “ H , 8 “ D

Wire, papier-mâché, wood, Mylar, acetate, plastic, flocking.

The Birds Began to Sing: 19 “ L, 9 “ H, 19 “ D

Ceramic, papier-mâché, felt, acetate, paint, wire.

This piece has a revolving base and a triangular-shaped Plexiglas cover which fits over the blackbirds. It is made as an illustration to an English nursery rhyme titled “Sing a Song of Sixpence”. When it spins the notes tremble and the tune comes to mind.

Primary: 12 “ L, 12 “ D, 18 “ H

(Detail)

Velvet, wool, glass, graphite.

This piece is mounted on a painted wooden base and has a Plexiglas box, which covers everything. The glass points are imbedded in the wool.

Artist Statement

2009-05-24T15:00:00.000-07:00

The transition from painting to sculpture has been a natural expansion of my curiosity about what it means for me to make art.

Throughout the different phases of development in my life as an artist, regardless of the medium, I see a consistent flow in the direction of my exploration.

My urge to make art can be described as a need to connect to the child I was when I first experienced the difference between truly being and simply existing. I was conscious even then of the mystery and power of nature and that I had my place in it. I now feel most vital when I can move between past present and future, between all things animal vegetable and mineral, animate and inanimate, and between intuition and intellect. The materials I put together become vehicles that take me most directly to that child.

Art for me is not about self expression. Instead, it is about separating from self into a simple state of being which might allow me access to a more universal truth.

The works I make are materials folded around ideas which offer themselves to me asking for a voice, and my imagination becomes the language through which I come to an understanding without words.

I collect objects and materials and analyze the relationships that might be possible

between them. I follow where they lead me, hoping to be receptive enough to catch the ideas that present themselves. I use materials in the same way a writer might use words to create poetry.

In making sculptures it is necessary to be aware that every material has a nature particular and specific to itself, and that one must be sensitive to the diverse properties of texture, colour, density, weight and other elements.

My challenge is to combine these qualities so they may project or dispel an energetic force experienced both psychologically and physically.

When an object becomes something other than itself, the shock of the unexpected transformation can connect us to the concept of eternity.

When this mysterious phenomenon occurs, I feel the work has the power to divert us from our habitual response to the world.

Because it is the task of the artist to make this experience accessible to others, it is necessary to work with integrity, to aspire to the highest ideals, be inquisitive and alert, and to pay attention to matters philosophical, psychological, and spiritual.

Sometimes either while making a work or even after finishing it, I discover its meaning. Also, people who comment on what they experience when they look at it, often reveal to me a new aspect of my own intuitive search. Such moments connect me to other human beings and bring me out of isolation.

I am inspired by nature, all of the arts, and by the human condition.

The motivating force behind all of my work is to find ways to explore the common ground between them, beginning for me with visceral essentials: rhythm, balance, and the instinct to live.

For me, the energy which connects everything is like a strong current moving below the calm or turbulent surface of water. It is the force over which we have no control. I call this instinct, and I ignore it at my peril.

I have learned to value impulse, to appreciate chance, and to trust intuition ahead of intellect.

My emotional guides have always been wonder, delight, and gratitude.