Twelve members of ArtSaturna will be showing new pieces at the Saturna Café from December 8th to January 4th. This creative dozen works in several media, so the show promises to be varied and interesting.
An informal opening is planned for Saturday, December 10, from 3:30 pm to 5 pm.
The Café is at 101 Narvaez Bay Road, a few minutes from the ferry terminal.
Come and meet the artists!
Inspired by the emerald world that surrounds us on this island, Ellen Bourassa and I chose a green theme for this group of quilts, currently on display at the Saturna Café.
Ellen’s pieces are distinctive because she chose black and white as a backdrop to highlight her green elements. Her strict palette showcases high contrast and strong lines, both in her design choices and texturing style.
As for me, I’ve returned to sewing and rediscovered the joy of texture after a long hiatus during which I focused on photography and gardening. These new quilts offer a fantasy view of greenery both topside and underwater. They are an excuse to stitch away and play with flow, interpreting the wind on foliage and water currents on seaweeds and kelps.
There are more quilts in process on my design table. #inspired
After a creative drought (pun intended), I returned to my cutting table and sewing machine to express my feelings about the current drought. The weather in BC has been unusually hot these last few weeks. My concerns about the rising temperatures are expressed in a group of small studies, most of them painted on canvas, then pieced and stitched.
Above, a small pieced and stitched canvas portrait of the mixed conifer forest on the island and the kelp forest underwater. And the threat of wildfire, always present during the summer.
For several years, outflow winds from the mainland have brought us smoke from the forest fires in British Columbia, Oregon and Washington state. In August, evening brings us sunsets heavily tinged with orange.
By mid-summer, arbutus trees shed quantities of leaves, and I get to admire every shade of tan and russet on display on the tree’s bark too. An intuitive painting, this canvas needed only minimal stitch lines to create a little relief.
This is my protest quilt. While walking on the road, I found cigarette butts that had been tossed out of cars (I’m guessing). Right by the dry grasses that line the road… This small quilt evokes the island shore, the forest, the heat from the sun, the danger of smoldering embers. I hope that everyone takes care, so we can avoid a fire this summer. Other regions of BC have not been so lucky.
Until August 19, these quilts and those of my co-conspirator, Ellen Bourassa, are on display at the Saturna Café.
Everyone is cordially invited to the opening reception of my exhibition, June 24, 4 to 6 p.m. The opening will be followed by a dinner prepared by chef Hubertus Surm.
(Reservations for dinner: 250-539-5177)
The exhibition at the Saturna Café goes to August 2, 2017.
“Narrative is anchored in the passage of time. A story unfolds in the tension between a beginning and an end. Singly and in juxtaposition, these photographs by Andrée Fredette are replete with stories. An image of a seemingly deserted Mayne Queen is paired with a photograph of a ghostly Saturna, producing a tinge of anxiety and uncertainty. Again, an empty path in the forest tells a tale of fear and disquiet. Further, the infinitely small (feathers) and the infinitely vast (the awesome sky) are conjured up. There are no figures in these photographs despite the great variety of subject matter. An irony resides in these works: it is suggested that they evoke the passage of time, yet photography congeals duration. This irony adds a layer of complexity — a dialectical interplay — to our experience of these artworks: we move from duration to time’s suspension and back again. Also, some of these works underline the materiality of the photographic medium, a salutary move in the era of digital media. Meditation portrays an ethereal, almost monochromatic sky — the surface of the photograph is underlined. Also, grains of sand and the grain of the photographic object conjoin in a literal manner. There is a hint of nostalgia in all these works: the backing in aluminum recalls photography’s metallurgic substrate —silver—and the quasi alchemical nature of work in the darkroom, a process which has almost been entirely eclipsed by digital technologies.”
— Jean-François Renaud
Above: a macro shot of laurel leaves, drying in a glass on my kitchen windowsill. With a little filter play, to turn it into a jazzy photo.
After three days of rain and high winds, things are finally starting to calm down. This morning, I played with my food and got a few very close shots of kitchen items.
Here they are, in their glory…
One of the last Brandywine tomatoes from my garden… treated to a little filter play. I love those curves! A tomato with attitude…
Another angle of the laurel leaves, drying on the window sill. It is too much fun, playing with the light and contrast.
So much fun, in fact, that here is one more:
And finally, not quite food, but a jewel-like piece of natural beauty:
And now, I return to my garden, to right the pots that were knocked over by the wind, and pick up the debris…
