Showing posts with label Artist In Residence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Artist In Residence. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Effort is a Part of the Beauty; The Simplicity and the Repetition


Christine Wallers - 2012


The effort is part of the beauty; the simplicity and the repetition.
Snowstorm, Nightwood, Tree Fort, The Angelus, Defibrillator, Francesca Woodman, Jellies,
The Finite Passing of Infinite Passion, Orlando, Vermillion, Cary Grant, Tequila, Nova, Castenada,
Tattoo Heart Ink, Father Beaven, BLB, StreamLines, Carmel, Spaulding, Agnes Martin, Cercius,
Light Sleeve, Lake Superior, H2 Recorder, Sophie Calle, Vaishali, Skype, Bram, Mavis Galant, Perfect Mix.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

2011 ineffable/sensation


Christine Wallers

2011 ineffable/sensation

Much of 2011 was spent creating a nearly imperceptible work in which both optical and sonic effects challenged the viewer and listener to take the time to perceive the piece. Hover, an installation with sound artist Steve Peters evolved from our shared fascination with light, emptiness and presence. The eight-channel collaborative installation is inspired by earwitness reports of the mysterious phenomenon of auroral sound associated with the Northern Lights. The visual component consists of hundreds of lines of monofilament and thin copper wire strung overhead, fastened with magnets, and streaking across the space catching the natural light. The mingling of light and sound proved to be equally ethereal and elusive.
More about Hover can be found in this review in TimeOut Chicago

As the winter begins to take hold I am in the midst of a flurry of as of yet untitled chaotic drawings that break the tightly knit structures that proceeded in Things That Sting. I am looking forward to changes in scale, continuing the restless arrangement and obliterating much of the white space within them.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Christine Wallers - Newsletter 2010

building



2010 was a year of building and transformation in the studio space housed within the Tai Chi Center of Chicago. Writing this on a dreary day in Chicago, Christmas trees fly by strapped to suv's. It is still kind of warm and I am hoping for some snow to transform the gray and make things magical. Reflecting on the year it is with a strong recollection of the seasons each one long definitive, quintessential, personal.

I felt closely aligned to the seasons in my studio practice as well. In the early winter months I produced nothing of significance; at least I thought. My mind and pencil flitted from one idea to the next losing interest and momentum. I reached for another set of tools, carved, drilled and hammered with the same result. I made some preliminary sketches for an installation and filed those away. At the very edge of winter up against spring, I produced a drawing, an exciting, fragile, hopeful little thing that took me by surprise. I had initially sat down with the sole purpose to make an intricate drawing that would hold my attention and help calm the mind. One drawing spun off the next, spring through summer and into fall. As we approach the first full day of winter, these drawings are still going, vibrating in a slightly different manner.

Things that Sting are a series of dense and tightly knit drawings that emphasis structure, repetition and random patterning. Different values or intensities of graphite line build a scaffold that hold an ethereal, yet pulsating and unsettling mass together.



Along with the drawings I am in the process of editing a little film piece shot in b&w and on 16mm film. During the summer filmmaker and friend Eric Stewart and I took to some Chicago rooftops and back yards to film bees. Stay tuned as I am very excited to see in which way we individually choose to transform the footage. Until then, you can go to Luminous / Shadow Project for a little tease!

Monday, December 7, 2009

Christine Wallers - Newsletter 2009

CHRISTINE WALLERS
Artist in Residence

This year for me has been about loss and being brave in the face of it. I've stood before walls movable and immovable. I have stood before walls that have collapsed...and walls impenetrable, conquering neither. At the end of this very long year I have learned what is left once I've tired of using all this force is to let go.
    Above: 4,000 (3,000 short of completion) lines of filament nearly pull the east wall down. A years worth of work and all had to be cut down. Below: 1,000 lines, what the wall could take.