Vanessa Lowe says: Welcome to my artworld, but be warned it's under construction
The Process
One hot day last summer I was looking at the sale table outside one of those Chinatown shops full of interesting things. I found some traditional folding and some traditional solid fans in a box. I tried a few of the folding fans for snap and air flow, but. I didn’t like any of them enough. So I looked at the solid fans, and chose one with an image of a young Asian woman playing a pipa. I didn’t like it much either, but I figured I could paint over it.
Traditionally, the images on fans have been idealized – pastoral landscapes, beautiful young women dressed in flowing robes playing musical instruments, or birds in groves. I decided to apply an urban image to this fan: I painted it blue sky with power poles and lines, and printed one crow on it. I liked it, so decided to make more. I didn’t want to have to paint over commercial fans, so I decided to figure out how to make traditional solid fans.
“How hard can it be?” I thought. I knew that someone, somewhere, must have made solid fans, but I wasn’t able to find instructions. I had to figure out my own process.
The construction of fans turned out to be a simple process, but not easy - bamboo strips are soaked then bent, silk is printed with images, the silk is then stretched over the bent bamboo frame. The making of each fan has something to teach about the process of fan-making: the bamboo often breaks, but when it does bend, the shapes are organic – unpredictable yet beautiful, the urban images are bold, and each fan is unique. Each of these fans is mounted inside a frame/box which contributes depth and dimensionality, and confers a sense of these pieces being precious, like artifacts on display in a museum or institution.
I am excited about my fans; made with what I believe to be traditional methods, but applying non-traditional and/or urban images to them - hydro-electric poles, birds congregating on wires, street people, old people, cityscapes. I have received many compliments on my fans, and many interesting comments. During the Eastside Culture Crawl, one studio visitor said, “It`s so peaceful – it`s like a zen palace“. Zen palace – that pretty much sums it up for me.
Traditionally, the images on fans have been idealized – pastoral landscapes, beautiful young women dressed in flowing robes playing musical instruments, or birds in groves. I decided to apply an urban image to this fan: I painted it blue sky with power poles and lines, and printed one crow on it. I liked it, so decided to make more. I didn’t want to have to paint over commercial fans, so I decided to figure out how to make traditional solid fans.
“How hard can it be?” I thought. I knew that someone, somewhere, must have made solid fans, but I wasn’t able to find instructions. I had to figure out my own process.
The construction of fans turned out to be a simple process, but not easy - bamboo strips are soaked then bent, silk is printed with images, the silk is then stretched over the bent bamboo frame. The making of each fan has something to teach about the process of fan-making: the bamboo often breaks, but when it does bend, the shapes are organic – unpredictable yet beautiful, the urban images are bold, and each fan is unique. Each of these fans is mounted inside a frame/box which contributes depth and dimensionality, and confers a sense of these pieces being precious, like artifacts on display in a museum or institution.
I am excited about my fans; made with what I believe to be traditional methods, but applying non-traditional and/or urban images to them - hydro-electric poles, birds congregating on wires, street people, old people, cityscapes. I have received many compliments on my fans, and many interesting comments. During the Eastside Culture Crawl, one studio visitor said, “It`s so peaceful – it`s like a zen palace“. Zen palace – that pretty much sums it up for me.