Categories
General

Dixit Storytelling Cards Inspire ESL Class

As an ESL teacher at a college, I’m always searching for interesting images to discuss, and these cards for the storytelling game, Dixit, struck me as richly imaginative. Recently, I asked students in my communication class to choose a picture from the deck of cards and give a short presentation about it. I was delighted by their insightful responses and asked permission to share their descriptions of the cards on my blog.

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

Sometimes life is so difficult, but you should always have hope and life. For example, look at the air in her hair. You need to fight all the time against air and the weather, but I think it’s worth fighting for life. And sometimes the world is cold, but there is still a flower growing to give you hope. (Karen)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

They are playing chess.The warm light is shining on the couple. There is a loving feeling. . . Love is like playing chess. Regardless of the outcome, everyone can enjoy this process. In simple terms, just I want to find a girlfriend. . . The picture is very sweet and can give me a deep impression. . . Love is a wonderful thing. (Edward)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

There are two fairies and a monster. The monster is trying to eat one fairy, and the other fairy is helping the fairy to escape. The monster is thinking, “I will eat you.” The fairies are thinking, “We want to leave.” I’m worried about the fairies. I chose this picture because it looked like the fairies said, “Please help us!” (Alvin)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

Long, long ago, there was a rabbit kingdom and wolf kingdom. The rabbit king had to kill the wolf king. In the picture, the rabbit is holding a sword. To kill the animal, he has to slip into the bedroom of the wolf. He sees three doors. He doesn’t know which door to choose. He thinks a king lives behind the flower door because it is beautiful. He goes in to kill the wolf. He stops the war. The rabbit kingdom’s citizens call the rabbit an iron man. He is very brave. (Jian)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

One day a boy is standing in front of the tree. His hand is holding an axe. He’s hesitating. Will he hack the tree or not hack the tree? I think he will hack it because the fruit of this tree is imagination. . . . Everyone has an imagination. (Teo)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

I think this is a comedian. I think he’s crying. The comedian has finished his work. In fact, he’s facing his life. He’s an ordinary human being. I think he may have run into some trouble or a sad thing. When I see the picture, I feel very helpless, sad, and very lonely.

I chose this picture because it is very realistic in our lives. Sometimes many people show their glamorous side to everyone and keep the sad side to themselves. Their heart is very strong. A lot of people are like this. He can make others happy but not make himself happy. He has a strong heart. (Jerry)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

A boy is planting seeds. The boy is thinking about a good harvest. When I see this picture, I feel hope for the future. I think the boy is not just planting seeds. He is planting hope. In the future, his dream will come true. (Annie)

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Dixit card illustrated by Marie Cardouat

This girl is an island. She’s watching the ship. She looks sad. She wants to be a person again. (Gold)

Categories
General TPL Talks and Programs

Joe Leinburd’s Holocaust Survivor Testimony

For the past four years, I have been attending programs in honour of Holocaust Education Week at the Toronto Public Library. Last Tuesday, November 5th, I went to Sanderson Library to hear Joe Leinburd speak about his experiences in wartime Romania.

In 1939, Mr. Leinburd was only 17 years old when he heard the news that Germany had invaded Poland. The news interrupted a volleyball game he was playing with his friends, and at that moment he realized that his “plans and dreams were shattered.”

To help us visualize the horror of heavy forces of history pressing down on innocent people, invading their lives without consent, our speaker held up a piece of black construction paper. It resembled a shroud with menacing scallops that showed the arbitrary curves of political borders. When he placed the black cape over a map of modern Europe to indicate areas occupied by the Nazis during World War II, the effect was shocking. Very few countries evaded the reach of that twisted blanket of death and hatred.

Two years after the start of the Second World War, the “Romanian Fascist Regime, collaborating with Nazi Germany, deported the entire Jewish population of Northern Bucovina and Bessarabia to Transnistria, an area in southwestern Ukraine” (Neuberger HEW 2013 information booklet, page 40). Mr. Leinburd told us that the authorities only gave them 24 hours to leave. Then the nightmare journey to Transnistria began, in which Leinburd and his family rode in a cattle car for two and half days “without food, water, or medicine.” They were in “total darkness with no space to move and little air to breathe.”

In response to a question about whether he had a numbered tattoo on his arm, Mr. Leinburd said that the “Jews in Romania died of starvation and sickness instead of being gassed.” Later, one of the middle school kids in the audience asked, “If you had had a tattoo, would you want to remove it?” Leinburd’s short, emphatic answer was “No.”

Suffering drew no distinctions between concentration camps or starvation and sickness in the open air. Joe and “his entire family survived a death march from Moghilev to Murafa and was liberated in 1944” (Neuberger HEW 2013, page 40). The forced march lasted two days, and “nobody dared help the elderly, sick, or children who fell behind. The helpers would be shot.” However, during three years of forced labour and unspeakable privation (including eating grass), Joe recalled that everybody helped each other to survive.

As Joe Leinburd’s talk was coming to a close, a young girl wearing a headscarf asked, “What is your wish for this generation?”

“My wish is for them to remember what happened and to distinguish between right and wrong.”

I’m thankful for the courage and fortitude of our 92-year-old speaker who shared traumatic memories with us so that we can remember the past into the future, pushing against shrouds of hatred the moment we recognize them in ourselves, our communities, and in our governments.

Categories
Artwork General

Ravens Three Collage

Three ravens consider life among the swirling patterns.

Ravens Three, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Ravens Three, Catherine Raine, 2013
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Ravens Three, Catherine Raine, 2013
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Ravens Three, Catherine Raine, 2013
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Ravens Three,  Catherine Raine, 2013
Ravens Three, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Ravens Three, Catherine Raine, 2013
Categories
Artwork General

Chinchillas and a Still Pool

Two chinchillas are spending time beside a still pool. The word “still” comes from an old letter from a friend.

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Chinchillas and a Still Pool, Catherine Raine, 2013
Chinchillas and a Still Pool, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Chinchillas and a Still Pool, Catherine Raine, 2013
Chinchillas and a Still Pool, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Chinchillas and a Still Pool, Catherine Raine, 2013
Categories
Artwork General

Knitted Eagle Collage

This rare species of knitted eagle feels as at home in the water as it does in the sky. Much less predatory than its non-textile cousins, the knitted eagle enjoys a quiet life of introspection.

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The Knitted Eagle, Catherine Raine 2013
The Knitted Eagle, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
The Knitted Eagle, Catherine Raine, 2013
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The Knitted Eagle, Catherine Raine 2013
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The Knitted Eagle, Catherine Raine 2013
Categories
Artwork Collage Workshops General

Mosaic Dream Waves Exhibit and Collage Workshop at Runnymede Library

Waves on Stage, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2011
Waves on Stage, Catherine Raine, 2011

Mosaic Dream Waves appears two years after my first public art exhibit, Maps of Loss: Rivers, Ruins, and Grief. On display until July 31 at Runnymede Library, Mosaic Dream Waves has a lighter approach than my previous display. Turning from melancholy to playfulness, the artwork pictured here invites you to visit an inner landscape where waves perform on stage, a mystical ornament shines, a yogini flies on a crazy quilt, and a dancing bird woman keeps company with a raven and a horse on wheels.

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Waves on Stage, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2011
Waves on Stage, Catherine Raine, 2011
Roll Me to the Moon, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2011
Roll Me to the Moon, Catherine Raine, 2011
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Disco Pirate Zombie, Catherine Raine, 2010
Flying Bookfish, Altered Book by Catherine Raine, 2012
Flying Bookfish, Catherine Raine, 2012. (I learned how to make this altered book at a free workshop at S. Walter Stewart Library).
Shine, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012
Shine, Catherine Raine, 2012 (This piece was inspired by a guided visualization).
Matryoshka Doll on a Stagecoach Ride, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2011
Matryoshka Doll on a Stagecoach Ride, Catherine Raine, 2012
Yogic Flying on a Crazy Quilt, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012
Yogic Flying on a Crazy Quilt, Catherine Raine, 2012
Desolate Yet Undaunted, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012
Desolate Yet Undaunted, Catherine Raine, 2012
Dancing Bird Woman, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012
Dancing Bird Woman, Catherine Raine, 2012
Abstract Wiseman, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012
Abstract Wiseman, Catherine Raine, 2012
I love how the staff gathered these books about collage and altered books, adding them to the exhibit.
I love how the staff gathered books about collage and altered books, adding them to the exhibit.

As part of the opening reception on July 13th, I offered a free collage workshop that took place in the program room across the hall from the gallery. My mother, Carlyle Raine, kindly offered to help with the workshop, and the beautiful art that emerged captivated us with its originality, energy, and flair.

Collage by Sehrish Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Sehrish Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Sehrish Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Sehrish Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Md. Mahdin Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Md. Mahdin Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Md. Mahdin Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Md. Mahdin Mazumder, 2013
Collage by Fahria Saiful, 2013
Collage by Fariha Fyrooz, 2013
Collage by Fahria Saiful, 2013
Collage by Fariha Fyrooz, 2013
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“The World Hangs by a Thread” by Ellen Jaffe, 2013

Thank you, Runnymede Library, for fostering community art, learning, and creativity under the eaves of your poetic attic!

Categories
Artwork General

Corn Goddess Collage (Plus Bookmark)

"Corn Goddess" Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013
Corn Goddess, Catherine Raine, 2013

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"Corn Goddess" Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013
Corn Goddess, Catherine Raine, 2013

When making a Corn Goddess collage, please secure a supply of thread, handmade papers, and stickers. Once completed, she is ready to celebrate the summer solstice with you.

"Corn Goddess" Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013
Corn Goddess, Catherine Raine, 2013
Categories
Artwork General

New Curtains for “Waves on Stage” Collage

“Waves on Stage” (2011) now has new curtains! The piece has been gussied up just in time for my July 2013 exhibit at Runnymede Library, Mosaic Dream Waves.

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Waves on Stage, Catherine Raine, 2011
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Waves on Stage, Catherine Raine, 2011
Categories
General Toronto Public Library Pilgrimage of 100 Branches

Remaining Toronto Public Library Branches to Photograph!

My library blog project started in 2007, and over the past seven years it has taught me many new skills. One of the most important ones has been digital photography. When I look at some of my earliest posts, their lack of pictures or not-so-great pictures show me how far I have come.

To fully do justice to all 99 libraries, I would like to photograph three branches that have been undergoing renovations (Mount Dennis, Bridlewood, and the Toronto Reference Library) and twenty-two others that need better pictures. These branches include Rexdale, Woodview Park, Victoria Village, Oakwood Village, Swansea Memorial, Humberwood, Black Creek, Weston, Bloor/Gladstone, Northern Elms, Amesbury Park, Gerrard/Ashdale, Albion, Humber Summit, Davenport, Jane/Dundas, Perth/Dupont, Brentwood, Thorncliffe, Locke, Pape/Danforth, and Albert Campbell. Finally, I need to visit the newest TPL branch, Fort York Library.

It will be satisfying to wrap up this project despite how much I will miss it!

Categories
Artwork General

Purple Paper Doll Collage

This paper doll emerged from the scraps of a previous project. Many of the various elements just seemed to want to be together!

Purple Paper Doll by Catherine Raine, 2013
Purple Paper Doll, Catherine Raine, 2013

The metallic paper background is fun to photograph because it changes colour depending on the location of the light source. From shiny to mysterious in two images!

Purple Paper Doll by Catherine Raine, 2013
Purple Paper Doll, Catherine Raine, 2013
Categories
Artwork General

Golden Anniversary Collage

Today my in-laws celebrate fifty years of marriage. Congratulations Heather and Robin! This collage is for you!

Golden Anniversary Collage, Catherine Raine 2013
Golden Anniversary Collage, Catherine Raine 2013
Categories
Artwork General

Dan and Tracy’s Collage

My friends Dan and Tracy love books, gardens, music, fine food, and wine. This collage is for them!

Dan and Tracy's Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Dan and Tracy’s Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013

The boar with the headdress symbolizes Dan’s connection to Kansas City, Missouri. In that city, a statue of a boar lives on 47th Street, and he brings luck to people who rub his brass nose and drop a coin in a box.

Dan and Tracy's Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Dan and Tracy’s Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013

It was my good fortune to make soap sculptures and listen to the Chronicles of Narnia with Dan in the 1970’s when we attended the same elementary school in Liberty, Missouri. As teenagers, we played in the symphonic band, wrote for the high school newspaper, and took French together. Dan and I kept in touch by mail, and in 2008 I got to visit him and his partner Tracy in Oregon.

Dan and Tracy's Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Dan and Tracy’s Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013

Happy Birthday, Dan! May you and Tracy share a joyful day!

Dan and Tracy's Collage by Catherine Raine, 2013
Dan and Tracy’s Collage, Catherine Raine, 2013
Categories
General Poems and Prose Poems

Nijinsky Ballet Haunts Viewer

Although a century has passed since Vaslav Nijinsky (1890-1950) danced in his prime, his artistic energy flows forward in time, crashing on the Four Season Centre’s stage in a wild wave of visionary brilliance. In fact, the stage holds but cannot fully contain John Neumeier’s Nijinksy, for I still carry the performance with me two days after I saw it.

When I think about the ballet, I am most haunted by the scene set in a Swiss hotel’s ballroom in 1919. There, the title character improvises a solo that turns out to be his final public appearance before symptoms of schizophrenia end his dance career (“John Neumeier’s Nijinsky,” by Michael Crabb, Performance Program, page 8).

In the hotel scene, Nijinsky stands holding one hand outstretched overhead, fingers spread wide, his body tense. Slowly, the hand turns into a fist. He drives the fist into his mouth, and as his arm continues to push down, the force of this movement pushes him all the way to the floor. He lies there with his fist still in his mouth, stunned by this primal act of self-harm.

When my eyes follow the trajectory of that cruel driving fist, I witness a moment of pain so raw and private that I shouldn’t be watching it because the anguish and despair feel real. The fist’s repression hints at a buried scream that it is desperate to silence. Inner struggle literally brings the dancer low, an artist known for his spellbinding leaps now slapping the floor with futile hands.

The second scene that I cannot forget arrives in the second act. Asylum inmates in dove-gray ballet costumes hoist a Broken Boy from their midst. He stands on the shoulders of two male inmates, and each member of the group that encircles him raises one arm straight up in the air, their palms the face of prayer.

When soldiers dressed in green jackets and undershorts storm the asylum, the Broken Boy gets crushed as they stomp around him in unison, their aggressive dance not softened by the presence of a woman with long hair in a body stocking. The Broken Boy tries to run but gets stuck. He is bent over, one of his hands steadying him on the floor while the other flies up. His jacket flops over his head as his legs spin in useless circles, going nowhere.

Looming over the turmoil are two large illuminated circles that tilt oppressively, and the choreography mirrors their shape in a pattern that Nijinsky follows as he twirls with his arms overhead in a perfect circle. At one point, an anonymous dancer circles the still figure of Nijinsky as if he is a Maypole. And during the Scheherazade dance, lines of dancers break off into circles like arcing beads of earth magnets as Nijinsky swoops lyrically, his body and arms creating symmetrical half-circles of constant movement.

The heartbreaking beauty of Nijinsky communicates what human disconnection feels like (hands and arms that undulate in proximity but rarely touch) and the suffering of a person crashing on the rocks of isolation and pain. Nijinsky’s psychological struggle reveals itself in unforgettable images: the fist in the mouth, the Harlequin kicking the stage wall, the Golden Slave with his arms crossed overhead as if bound by a rope, the man in the straightjacket rolling across the floor, and the long lengths of red and black velvet that twine around Nijinsky’s limbs in the final scene.

As a grateful viewer of this powerful ballet, I’d like to thank John Neumeier and the National Ballet of Canada for expanding my understanding of Nijinsky and teaching me through dance what no psychology or history textbook could express with such visceral impact.

Inner Map (Non-Political), Encaustic Painting by Catherine Raine, 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political), Encaustic Painting by Catherine Raine, 2010
Categories
Artwork General

Christmas Collages for Friends

"Bling Donkey" for Mindy, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012

"Abstract Wiseman" for Stewart, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Categories
General

Breakfast in Scarborough Yearly Report (2012)

I’m grateful to WordPress for putting together yearly blog reports. Breakfast in Scarborough‘s 2012 results can be viewed here!

Categories
General TPL Talks and Programs

Brothers Grimm in the House in the Woods at the Osborne Collection

A visit to “The House in the Woods: Magical Tales of the Brothers Grimm” revealed the ways that Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm’s Children’s and Household Tales (1812) have evolved over the centuries, soaked into the very bones of narrative structures, and remain alive to this day.

From the second volume of Children’s and Household Tales (1819), the “engraved frontispiece by Ludwig Grimm is a portrait of one of the Grimms’ principal sources: Dorothea Viehmann, a tailor’s wife who sold fruit in the Grimms’ village of Kassel” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)

Martha Scott, the curator of this exhibit at the Osborne Collection, generously took the time to walk me through the collection of illustrations, pop-up books, and art that she had gathered to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Children’s and Household Tales. During the tour, I appreciated Ms. Scott’s extensive knowledge of the different versions of the tales and her witty engagement with the illustrations.

For background information, Scott supplied me with a copy of the notes that rested in plastic sleeves on the display cases.

The Sleeping Beauty. Told by C.S. Evans and illustrated by Arthur Rackham. London: William Heinemann, 1920 (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)

From a very young age, the phrase “The Brothers Grimm” has captivated me, and when I see it in my mind’s eye, I visualize the letters G-R-I-M-M in mahogany-inked calligraphy with extravagant loops like twisted roots for the downward swoops of the “r” and double m’s.

In addition to the distinctive twin m’s, it is possible that the romance of the name is in the word order. Whereas “the Grimm brothers” sounds like a family singing act from Nashville, The Brothers Grimm could independently serve as the title of an ancient fairy tale that stars two solemn brothers who live in a dark forest cottage and spin tales by a hearth on winter evenings.

The real Jacob and Wilhelm, scholars with an interest in preserving oral history, most likely did not personally recite fairy tales around hearths in cottages. However, the imaginative illustrations I saw in “The House in the Woods” left the mystique of the Brothers Grimm intact; the more I learned, the more enchanting the stories became.

Thorn Rose. The Brothers Grimm. Illustrated by Errol Le Cain: Faber and Faber, 1975. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Illustrated by E.J. Andrews and S. Jacobs. Edited by Edric Vredenburg. London: Raphael Tuck and Sons, [1902]. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Snow White. V. Kubasta. Westminster, London: Bancroft & Co., [1958]. An ARTIA production. Printed in Czechoslovakia.
“In the first edition of Children’s and Household Tales (1812), the wicked queen is Snow White’s natural mother. In the second edition of 1819, the Grimms substituted a stepmother as villain.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm. Illustrated by Arthur Rackham. Translated by Mrs. Edgar Lucas. London: Constable & Company, 1909. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Selected and illustrated by Elenore Abbott. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1937.
Instead of relying on a fairy godmother, Cinderella “sings to the magic hazel-tree which grows from her mother’s grave, and the birds toss down a splendid dress.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Pictured by Mabel Lucie Attwell. Edited by Edric Vredenburg. London: Raphael Tuck, [ca. 1907]. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Beauty and the Beast Picture Book . . . . with eighteen coloured pictures by Walter Crane: engraved & printed by Edmund Evans. London: John Lane, The Bodley Head, [1900].
“Walter Crane’s The Frog Prince was first published in 1874 . . . . The Grimms chose “The Frog King, or Iron Henry” as their opening story because they considered it one of the oldest tales in Germany. In their version, the princess, disgusted by the frog’s request to sleep in her bed, throws it against the wall, whereupon it transforms into a handsome young prince.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
The Fairy Book . . . . by the author of “John Halifax, gentleman.” With 32 illustrations in colour by Warwick Goble. London: Macmillan and Co., 1913.
“British illustrator Warwick Goble pictures Snow White and Rose Red as they rescue the spiteful dwarf from an eagle.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
The Little Brother and Sister and Other Stories by the Brothers Grimm. Illustrated by Eddie J. Andrews, and Elsie Blomfield. London: Raphael Tuck and Sons, [ca. 1910]. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
The deer is actually the little girl’s brother who has unfortunately drunk from a bewitched stream.
Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten. [Illustrated by] V. Kubasta. Prague: Artia, 1965. (Panorama-Marchen). (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
Little Red Riding Hood. Illustrated by Patricia Turner. [London]: Folding Books, [195-].
“This ‘carousel’ book opens in circular fashion to reveal six three-dimensional scenes.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
The Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm. Illustrated by Arthur Rackham. Translated by Mrs. Edgar Lucas: Constable & Company, 1909. (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)
My Bookhouse. Edited by Olive Beaupre Miller. Chicago: The Bookhouse for Children Publishers, [ca. 1928].
“This wooden house contains the six volume My Bookhouse and the three volume My Travelship collections . . . . The My Bookhouse collection was first published from 1920 to 1922.” (exhibit notes, Martha Scott)

Thank you Martha Scott, Leslie McGrath, and the Osborne Collection for an enriching afternoon in the magical company of the Brothers Grimm! Your book house is a jewel worthy of the finest scholars in the land!

Categories
Artwork General

So You Think You’re Hopeless at Drawing?

Before I took Drawing 1 at the Toronto School of Art in 2012, I thought I was hopeless at drawing. Even though I had been making collage and textile art for six years, I didn’t feel entitled to call myself a “real” artist because I lacked basic drawing skills.

“Love, Eric” collage by Catherine Raine, 2012 (for the memorial project “Eleven Letters from Eric.“)

With very little formal training in art, I wanted to address the gaps in my knowledge that held me back from stretching into three dimensions. It was also time to overcome the limiting “I can’t draw!” belief.

On the first day of my TSA evening class, our instructor, Paul Turner, boldly asserted that anyone who could hold a pencil could learn how to draw. I thought to myself, “I hope I don’t prove him wrong!”

As an adult educator myself, I know how important it is convince students to move beyond negative assessments of their abilities. Comparing my skills from the first week to the final week of drawing instruction, I can happily report that the only thing I proved wrong was my self-doubt.

To thank Paul and encourage anyone who wants to learn a new skill, I offer this illustrated blog post as evidence that if I could learn to draw at the age of 43, then others most certainly can too!

In the first two weeks, our class focused on the humble yet crucial box in one-point and two-point perspective, in addition to the equally essential ellipse. Paul encouraged us to “get comfortable with non-parallels” such as a box resting at a different angle from the table it’s sitting upon. However, I was remarkably and deeply uncomfortable with non-parallels.

In fact, I was actively alarmed when Paul stacked six books on top of each other and suddenly shifted all of their spines into different angles. How could I possibly draw that pile? I was barely adept at boxes floating in space, and my ellipses looked like squashed peaches in the mud.

Imagine my discomfiture when a variety of boxes on tables greeted us in week three. I had a drawing board, paper, and a skewer in my hand to gage proportions but little clue how to use it. (There was a reason why I scored low on spatial-relation skills on standardized tests in junior high).

Paul had demonstrated the skewer technique, and he even drew me a picture of a thumb holding a skewer next to a box, but I still felt hopelessly out of my depth. To my horror, I was actually close to tears!

Week three drawing, proportion exercise

Though measuring proportions was difficult, our instructor exhorted us not to give up. A quick comparison of the drawings above and below bears testimony to the fact that this skill became much easier for me.

Week seven still-life exercise

In week four, I loved the opportunity to “respond to the total form with one line” and build a “relationship of trust with (my) eye, hand, and mind” (Paul Turner). The total form was a male model who changed poses frequently, and the rapid shifts pushed us to draw from “head to toe, boom, one line!”

Jazz Coat Hanger
Bauhaus Man
Defiance
Tightrope Walker, Catherine Raine 2013
Tightrope Walker, Catherine Raine 2013
Starting Block Stance

The looseness and freedom of this gesture exercise lifted my spirits after the previous week’s disappointment with myself. Many of my sketches seem to express this joy.

Yes! Leap
Jaunty Dancing Sailor
Insouciant Businessman

In week five, we considered “how objects behave in space.” I liked the challenge of truly looking at a lantern, a bottle of dish detergent, and a lampshade to determine proportion, shape, and line. I also greatly appreciated Paul’s advice to be in the moment while engaged in drawing: “Don’t focus on where you think you should be (skill-wise) or what your drawing should look like. Be here now!”

The following week, I learned to pay more attention to the spaces between objects. Our task was to “go after” the shapes created in the gaps between items such as a chair, a goblet, or a sled propped up together on a table. We used white charcoal on colored paper to depict the negative space, allowing the objects to take form from the absence of charcoal.

Negative space exercise

It was the objects’ turn to live in the gaps and let so-called empty space take center stage for a change. Why should positive, filled-up space get all the attention when so many fascinating patterns are waiting to be noticed in the liminal places, the edges of objects, and the sea of animated air between them? I loved the radical shift in visual and conceptual perspective that the lesson in negative space inspired.

Mid-term negative space and contour assignment

During week seven’s still-life exercise with two objects, I became very aware of the lovely negative-space shape made by the inside of my grandmother’s silver teapot’s handle, something I might not have noticed prior to the class. As I gazed at the teapot and a green vase from TSA’s closet of diverse objects, Paul suggested, “Let the shape lead you to the line.”

Week seven still-life exercise

On the eighth class, we had a new model, and Paul instructed us to “build a height and width for the form and then plant a shoulder.” I liked the use of the verb “to plant” in a drawing context because it implied bold, purposeful action, a deliberate sowing of a seed from a burlap bag, a strong line from which something new can grow.

It Isn't to Be Polite, Catherine Raine 2013
It Isn’t to Be Polite, Catherine Raine 2013

Planting the first shoulder of the form is an act of bravery, a commitment that changes a blank scroll of paper into a potential drawing. The first line transforms an idea into artistic reality, the abstract to the concrete, and fear-paralysis (“Will the line be perfect?”) into definitive action.

Value was week nine’s topic, and I struggled to get my head around the terminology and grapple with the sphere resting in front of me on a draped table. At one point, I sighed, “Vanquished by a styrofoam ball!”

Week nine value exercise

I was disappointed in my value drawing even though I managed to improve it somewhat. However, I did like this artistic and psychologically-applicable advice from Paul: “Deal with the dark side of the form first and then work your way into the light.”

In week ten (our last week), we had the opportunity to do sustained drawings of another model and integrate what we’d learned about proportion, shape, gesture, negative space, and line. I also learned some new phrases to describe the long line of the body from shoulder to hip: “the line of action, the bow of the torso, and the C-curve.” I enjoyed thinking in terms of active lines. These lines are alive, humming with tension like an archery bow and curved like fruit in a bowl.

Even though I had trouble visualizing the planes of the body and understanding what Paul meant when he said, “Let the interior shapes guide you the exterior,” by the end of the evening I had two sketches I particularly liked.

Reflecting on my experience as a novice student of drawing, I am very grateful for such a stimulating class that taught me to have faith in my learning potential. I especially appreciate the invitation to look at objects, space, form, and light in fresh ways. What a gift to an artist and a writer!

Contour exercise, week four
Subway contour sketch, week four

Thank you, Paul, for taking me on a journey from perceived hopelessness to confidence in a developing skill!

Categories
General TPL Talks and Programs

Judy Lysy’s Holocaust Survivior Testimony at Locke Library

Two hours after Judy Lysy’s talk, my throat still carries its impact, an ache weighted with gratitude for this 84-year-old great-grandmother’s bravery. Ms. Lysy’s physical presence in Locke Library’s program room testified to a beautiful fighting spirit before she even said a word.

Before the testimony started, I looked up some biographical facts in the booklet “Culture of Memory” published for the 32nd Annual Holocaust Education Week: “Judy Lysy was born in Kosice, Czechoslovakia, in 1928. She lived with her parents, sister and grandmother. In March 1944, Judy and her family were deported to Auschwitz-Birkenau and from there to various slave labour camps. She was liberated in May 1945, by the US army. She immigrated to Canada, in 1952, with her husband and daughter” (page 32).

I was glad for the informative booklet, but nothing can compare to listening to a survivor tell her story in person. When Judy occasionally leaned on her cane or wiped her eyes with a tissue, these simple gestures found a way into my heart-memory that letters on a page cannot easily reach.

I heard the pain in her voice when she remembered that not a single one of her Christian neighbours made an attempt to protest or even look out of their windows when Judy’s family was being marched to the ghetto. And the spoken narrative provided more images that made history shockingly real:

The feathered cap of the gendarme who came to take the family to the ghetto. Judy’s grandmother praying in the cattle car for God to intervene. The brutal shearing of Judy’s ribbon-tied pigtails after she arrived at Auschwitz. The German guard eating his lunch of bread and meat with 45 inmates watching him intently, waiting for him to drop a piece of rind.

I’ll never forget Judy’s description of a tank smashing through the fence of the last of five concentration camps that she and her sister and mother endured: “An African-American man looked out from the tank and said, ‘We are the Army of the United States of America!'” Until that point in the talk, her voice had been steady, but it broke when she started to say the first part of the name of my home country. She cried through the pauses she made between “the United . . . States . . . of . . . America,” and the release of powerful emotions in a November 2012 talk seemed to mirror the beginning of release from horror in May 1945.

I’ve never felt prouder to be an American than when Judy Lysy made me see and feel the meaning of liberation. (Barack Obama’s election wins have created a similar pride). I felt the traumatized survivor’s cautious relief, her gratitude for the way the Americans provided baths and “pablo” (baby food) for the survivors, one of the few foods their stomachs could tolerate after long periods of starvation.

I was very proud of Canada, too, when Judy spoke of how its acceptance of immigrants and refugees from all over the world actually restored her faith in God: “I love Canada! Living here with people of every colour and religion, I felt free to be me. And my children could go to any school they wanted.”

She leaned forward to address the two classes of grade sevens in attendance and said, “I want to give you some advice. When you grow up, vote for a government that protects minorities. I’m eighty-four years old and I know without a doubt that we all have hearts. We all have souls.”

Today I’m thankful for Judy Lysy and her willingness to share her heart, soul, and exquisite wisdom. Thanks to her generosity, I take her story with me into the world.

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Artwork General TPL Talks and Programs

Flying Bookfish

I was lucky to attend Emily Tinkler’s free Altered Books workshop at S. Walter Stewart Library, where more than a dozen participants eagerly listened to Emily describe how to fold, cut, and poke pages with an awl to turn an old book with a sewn binding into a work of art.

Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012

I had been given an out-of-date computer book to use for the workshop, and I soon went to work folding the pages to create an accordion shape. I was inspired by the examples that Emily had brought to show us, especially the one in which wire and ribbon rioted through the pages of a former book.

Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012

After the session, I took my unfinished piece home, where it sat on a table mutely calling out for something to spring from the folds of paper. Meanwhile, I continued sewing clumps of paper together with saffron and fern green thread.

Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012

A trip to the sticker aisle in an art store supplied me with the missing element. Fish! When I saw the fish collection, they seemed to want to be flying out of a book.

Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012
Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012
Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012
Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012

I glued double-images of the fish stickers together, and then I cut twelve skewers into varying sizes before affixing the energetic yet dignified creatures to them. As as penultimate touch, I tied short lengths of the saffron and green thread around each skewer. Finally, I added stickers to the decorated inside covers of the book. And that’s the story of Flying Bookfish!

Flying Bookfish by Catherine Raine, 2012

Categories
General TPL Talks and Programs

Library Map Pass Keeps on Giving!

Last year I visited the Textile Museum of Canada courtesy of a library Map Pass. I enjoyed the experience so much that I returned last week just in time to see Dreamland: Textiles and the Canadian Landscape before the exhibit ended.

Signature Quilt, New Brunswick 1875-1900

Fascinating art and artifacts populated Dreamland in every direction, almost overwhelming me with visual delight. I loved the hooked rugs holding memories of the lost farm of a New Brunswick couple (“The Gagetown Hookers”) and the remarkable examples of ordinary nineteenth-century clothing.

Lydia and Raymond Scott
New Brunswick
Mid to late 20th Century
Lydia and Raymond Scott, New Brunswick, mid to late 20th century
Man’s Shirt, Quebec, 1870-1890’s (wool, hand-spun, hand-woven)
Child’s Shirt, Ontario, Mid 19th Century

The quilts and samplers reminded me of my grandmother Raine, a beautiful textile artist who knitted a pink poncho with pearl buttons for my Barbie and sewed doll clothes for Her Barbiness, too. Grandma’s favorite quilt pattern was log-cabin, a very disciplined form, so I wonder what she would have made of the crazy quilt I saw in permanent exhibit one floor below.

Crazy Quilt, Ontario, c. 1890
Crazy Quilt, Ontario, c. 1890
Crazy Quilt, Ontario, c. 1890

Even before I knew it was the work of a loving Canadian grandmother, I was drawn to a display of a doll’s complete Red River winter outfit. I also learned from the explanatory text that Anna McLeod Gilmor “would make a doll’s dress as a Christmas present for Margaret (her granddaughter).” She did this “each Christmas from 1945-1950.” Decades later, Margaret Johnson donated these doll clothes to the Textile Museum of Canada.

Doll’s Red River Outfit, Anna McLeod Gilmor, Toronto 1945-1950

In addition to the poignant textile legacy of an awesome grandmother, the exhibit that affected the most strongly was Michael Snow’s “Solar Breath/Northern Caryatids.” Snow’s cinematic illusion of a window in a house off the coast of Newfoundland was so effective that I thought it was real.

Michael Snow, “Solar Breath/Northern Caryatids,” 2002 (62 minutes)

The sound of the wind pulled me into the darkened viewing room and I was hooked. Although chairs were available, I settled down on the carpet to better surrender to the meditative peace of a film in which the star actor was the wind flapping the curtains, offering brief revelatory glimpses of a woodpile, solar panel, trees, and the Atlantic Ocean

Michael Snow, “Solar Breath/Northern Caryatids,” 2002

TPL and Map Pass, thank you for giving me the opportunity to experience Solar Breath, marvel at quilts, sashes, long underwear, dresses, rawhide stuffed animals, and a camel cover from Turkemenistan!

Coverlet, John Campbell, Ontario, c. 1880

 
 

Coverlet, John Campbell, Ontario, c. 1880 

Quilt, New Brunswick, late 19th century (cotton)
Quebec, 19th century (wool, finger woven)
Man’s Long Underwear, Quebec, 1870-1890’s
Girls’s Dress, Quebec, 1870-1890 (indigo blue top)
John Henry Fine Day, “Rez Dog in Flight,” 2006
John Henry Fine Day, “Rabbit,” 2006
Camel Cover, Turkmenistan, early 20th century (red wool probably recycled from Russian army uniforms)