Self-Portrait In the Moment

Opening Reception for In the Moment at Maude Kerns Art Center

Two years ago I was invited to be part of a group show that would be self-portraits by twenty or more women artists. One requirement was that each artist had to do her work in the six months prior to the show. Our curator, Lo Caudle, began convening sessions to be sure that we all understood the ground rules. To be fair to each artist, it was determined that each of us would have eight feet of wall space. During the six months of creation, Lo hosted monthly sessions at her home to keep us all "in the moment."

I was one of ten artists who had photos ready in time for the invitation card to be printed, whew!

The show opened on Friday, May 16, 2014. Since it was two weeks before the final day at my university job, I was in a celebrative mood. I purposely wore a red shirt and "crazy creative leggings."

I welcomed my first guests to Maude Kerns Art Center:
Puppeteer Bob Kamenski and his dog.

My friends Ginny and Kate were already inside viewing my stabile (hanging sculpture).

My three pieces were front-left in the gallery: self-portrait triptych, ancestral journey stabile (hanging sculpture), and creative process accordion book.

University colleague Gil James took time to read my accordion book.

As the crowd gathered, I delighted in greeting Kathleen R., Renee, Eden,
Lillian, Kathleen H., Susan, and Linda.

Lo Caudle, our amazing curator, was also one of the exhibiting artists.

17 of the 20 self-portrait artists were at the reception and received roses.

One of the artists brought a photographer to the opening.

LiDoña Wagner Self-Portrait 

My self-portrait triptych, composed of three 18" x 24" wooden panels, was my largest piece. At Karen Synder's recommendation, I attempted to make it life sized.

Very early in the creative process I determined that I wanted to use maps. Ancient and contemporary world maps reflect my thirty years spent working in impoverished communities all over the world. For my body I used a National Geographic map of the oceans (blue water and black continents), 14th to 18th century maps showing changing perceptions of the world, and strips from a Doctors Without Borders map. To create a sense of antiquity, I did transfers of old maps for the deer and goddess. Gold foil once served to wrap the chocolates I love. Violet concentric circles represent the spiritual realm where I make contact with my ancestors.

The deer represents my maternal heritage, the 41% of my DNA that matches that of people in Denmark. Hand spirals represent the 40% of my DNA that matches that of people from Tuscany, my paternal ancestors. Goddesses symbolize the 17% of my DNA that matches that of people from Southwest Asia (the Near East) where both my maternal and paternal ancestors spent a long time before traveling north through the Caucasus and west along the Mediterranean Sea. The black fanny pack, shoes, and hair symbolize our One Black Mother, Mitochondrial Eve, from whom we have all descended. I am all of this and more that is yet to be discovered.

Michael Fisher, Maude Kerns Art Center exhibits director, did a wonderful job of
arranging my accordion book for maximum visibility.

Rather than putting out my sketchbook, which includes a lot of source material, I decided to create an accordion book that would show key stages of creating the triptych. Using photocopies of pages from the sketchbook, I also shared reflections that occurred during the evolution of the triptych. 

Yes, I did selfies to arrive at the chosen position for the self-portrait
and I made lots of mistakes in executing it.

Before October 18, our beginning date for self-portrait creation, I had never done a selfie or used Photo Booth on my iMac or Mac Book. In doing my first selfies, I discovered something called four quick shots. By the time it got to the fourth shot, I could be in a test position. After many attempts I selected one that had a lot of triangular shapes.

The deer turned out to be a challenge. The tar gel I used for map transfers on the deer clouded when it dried. Thinking of how you use oil to make a rock look wet, I tried rubbing the surface of the deer with Olive oil (no luck) and teak furniture polish. Whether it was all of the rubbing I did or the teak furniture polish, I succeeded in bringing back the ink colors transferred from the maps. I used heavy gel for the map transfers on the goddess and had no problem with clouding.

My daughter, Kendra Jael, was very much present as I worked on
my self-portrait triptych and ancestral journey stabile.

Every life is marked by seminal events. Who would have guessed that when my daughter Kendra was admitted to the school of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, it would change my life dramatically? My first art classes were taken solely for the purpose of being able to understand what she was doing and to be able to discuss it with her. Unwittingly, she pulled me away from writing and into painting. Ten years after her death I realized that she had become my ancestor. She is my connection to all of our ancestors.

Note the turning of the ancestral stabile.

The creative process often goes on long after one has met a deadline. In talking at the reception with children's book author Judy Sierra, I not only discovered that two pieces in the stabile were out of order, I also realized that since the stabile reflects my DNP mapping, it needed to spiral as does the DNA molecule. Soon after the reception I returned to the gallery to get the pieces in the right order and to spiral the stabile. I think the spiraling needs to be more incremental than I did it this time.

There is a vignette and date on one side of each stabile box.
Each vignette marks one of the major migrations made by my maternal ancestors.

I was very clear when I began my self-portrait that my concept of self includes all of my ancestors. How could it be otherwise since my only child is now one of those ancestors?

Early in 2010 I did my maternal DNA testing through the genographic project of National Geographic. Later that year one of my brothers did our paternal DNA testing, also with the genographic project. In receiving the results of the tests, we also received marvelous maps and material on the most likely migrations made by our maternal and paternal ancestors, along with online information on ecological, cultural, and historical events of each era.

During 2011-2012, I painted a heritage mandala. In the narrative ring I painted a vignette for each major stage of my DNA journey. However the complexity of the mandala diminished the emphasis on the DNA journey. I decided I wanted to do something else with the vignettes. When I first began working on the self-portrait, I planned just to have eleven boxes arranged on a pedestal. However, I wanted to have something on both sides of the boxes and that would make it difficult to see both sides no matter how I arranged them on a pedestal. Thus was born the idea of having the boxes hang so they could be seen from both sides.

One side of each box is a visual representation of one stage of the DNA journey; these are the vignettes from my heritage mandala. The opposite sides of the boxes and the loops between the boxes provide verbal clues to that stage of the journey.

Something of a sculptural book, there are verbal clues to events
 of each era on the opposite side of each box in the stabile.

 I intended to create an accordion book showing the progression of the stabile, but ran out of time. In brief:

• scanned and photocopied the vignettes from my heritage mandala
• glued the vignettes to 4" x 4" squares of mat board painted green
• created verbal clues for each vignette 
• made several attempts at a prototype box
• decided on the colors for and painted eleven 4" x 4" canvases 
• lettered and painted two layers of writing on each canvas, the top layer in copper
• collected locally and via the internet a variety of screw eyes for linking the boxes
• gave up on finding copper screw eyes strong enough to hold the weight of the boxes
• elected to shift some of the verbal clues to paper loops that would hide the screw eyes
• found and then decided not to use small wooden letters down the sides of the boxes
• moved the side messages to a new "title box" at the top of the stabile 
• decided to use raffia as a second means of connecting the boxes, add side interest, and to give a natural element

For myself and many of the other 19 self-portrait artists, the six-month creative journey pushed us to try things we had never done before. My triptych is the largest painting I have ever created. Only by breaking it into three pieces could I create something that size in my small studio. While my stabile is really a sculptural book and somewhat primitive, it is the first sculpture I have ever made. And though I have been experimenting with accordion books in recent years, it took humility to be willing to exhibit such an unpretentious one in a gallery. 

I wonder how the experience of creating these three representations of "who I am now" will affect my work during my October residency in Assisi, Italy.