Sunday, November 9, 2014

Ofrendas: Art and offering

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We all die. I was reminded of that in church today. As undeniable as that truism is, it isn’t a popular message in our culture in or out of a religious setting. Other cultures don’t have the same aversion to death, however. We are reminded of this each autumn around this time when the over-commercialized holiday of Halloween is accompanied, as it increasingly is, by the Day of the Dead.

Alverno College Ofrenda, detail (UCC)
The traditional Mexican observance of Día de los Muertos was a family affair held in the home or at a cemetery where ancestors were buried. Altars called Ofrendas ("offerings" in Spanish) often were lovingly created to honor the dead. Over the years this reverential folk tradition has been expanded and Ofrendas have become more diverse. Today in Milwaukee you can find contemporary versions of Ofrendas in several local art galleries. Many of them hew closely to the time-honored conventions that feature skull motifs, skeletal figures, flower arrangements and foodstuffs, along with photographs and other images of the deceased.

Others take the themes of the occasion as a point of departure to make artistic, societal and even political statements. Over the past week I visited three galleries that have chosen to recognize the Day of the Dead by inviting artists and others to create Ofrendas on site in their spaces. I’ve taken some photographs (which should be no surprise.) In most cases I didn’t capture the whole Ofrenda, choosing instead to focus in on a detail that caught my attention.

My hope is to encourage you to visit these places and spend some time with the Ofrendas in their intended context. Their meanings cannot be taken in at a glance in any case and they deserve to be experienced in the reverential spirit with which they were created.

Thoughtful descriptions or artists’ statements accompany many of the Ofrendas. I have included excerpts from some of them.



The Alfons Gallery is a bit off the beaten track, located on the second floor of the imposing main building of the School Sisters of St. Francis campus on South 27th St. The gallery invited artists, interns, staff, and volunteers at Redline Milwaukee to collaborate in a single large altar. I particularly enjoyed seeing this Ofrenda within its religious context, among the permanent collection of sacred artworks.





Leann Wooten: “It was very healing for me to work on this piece with my father in mind. I felt a spiritual connection to him on this artistic journey….” 

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Sue Vliet: “Beautiful, laughing brown eyes, my paternal grandmother had kind eyes, always full of mirth and mischief. My memories of her are clear and happy…. She allowed me to eat cake for breakfast, kept an can of ‘spray’ whipped cream in her refrigerator for special snacks, took walks with me, listened to my stories, and laughed at my jokes.”


Gary Niebuhr: “I am not comfortable…thinking about my own mortality. I would rather think about someone else’s mortality…. I never practiced the witchcraft of art until after the passing of my father. I often wonder if his death was a freeing experience or if it is the shadow of guilt that follows me. “


Sally Kuzma: “This ofrenda is in memory of my mother Ellie….  The word for bellybutton—a tangible connection to our mothers—hangs in the air, contributed by friends, colleagues, and students of mine who have ties to dozens of different languages.”

United Community Center


“Remembrance Altar” (detail) by the UCC’s art therapist and selected clients in honor the memories of loved ones who have passed away.


Jeanette Arellano: “This altar is dedicated to our loved ones who have lived with mental illness…. I wanted to make this piece interactive because all of us have at some point in our lives lived with a mental illness or know someone who has, however we keep it hidden as though it doesn’t exist, which is something I can personally attest to.” [Visitors are invited to inflate balloons in remembrance of loved ones with mental illnesses and to think about moments they share with them.]


Ximena Soza: “Nidos Vacíos is dedicated to the sons and daughters that have been lost to violence. Whether it is in Palestine, Ferguson, Milwaukee, or Mapuche land in Chile, the loss of sons or daughters speaks the same language of pain…. My ofrenda is a piece of fabric with a dress and a nest in the center representing the grieving process of mothers and families, the emptiness of death lives in those who are alive.”


Clay relief sculptures with acrylic paint by second grade students at Bruce-Guadalupe Elementary School based on discussions about community wishes.


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What do George Washington and Vince Lombardi have in common? How are these and other well known historical and pop cultural figures related to deceased parents, grandparents, and family pets? They are all well represented in the wall-sized, multidisciplinary and collaborative ofrenda created by fifth graders at University School of Milwaukee.

detail
This was a lovely experience, clearly a crowd favorite at the opening reception Friday evening. I witnessed many people carefully viewing each of what seemed like hundreds of tiny individual memorials that make up this ofrenda. 

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On Saturday, November 1 there was a Día de los Muertos parade in Milwaukee. If you missed my earlier post and photo essay about that, click here to see it.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Milwaukee’s Day of the Dead 2014: A photo essay.



Día de los Muertos in Spanish, the annual remembrance called the Day of the Dead originated in Mexico. Its traditional purpose has been to remember family and loved ones who have died and it is observed between Oct. 31 and Nov. 2 to coincide with the Catholic observances of All Hallow’s Eve, All Saints Day, and All Soul’s Day.


Milwaukee’s celebration of Día de los Muertos has expanded upon the tradition. Added to the personal Ofrendas (shrines created by individuals or families to honor and remember the dead) and a solemn procession are multicultural rituals, performances, and a vigil for peace. This year’s event was held yesterday, Nov. 1. The festivities took place in Walker’s Square Park and the procession made its way from there in a loop along National Avenue, 5th Street, and Washington Street.


Prior to the procession a ceremony was held by members of the Hispanic and Indian communities of Milwaukee. At the climactic moment when one of the Indian leaders burned tobacco, honoring the departed and blessing the proceedings, a trio of crows swooped suddenly low over the gathering, cawing plaintively. I wonder which is more believable: that it was an omen or a coincidence?


Decorated skulls and faces painted with death’s head masks are the familiar motifs of Día de los Muertos, of course. For more information about the event go to the official website at diadelosmuertosmilwaukee.com.










To see a complete set of photos from the event, including captions, go to my flickr page


Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Why I am here: On beauty in the Menomonee Valley


A constant, rhythmic thunder reverberates from the steel underside of the wide freeway overhead. Below, the Menomonee River slides silently between tilted flanks of concrete. Colorful graffiti decorates floodwalls on both sides of the channel; a skull motif interspersed with a surprisingly aesthetic tagging style.


Two young women walk slowing along the canted concrete. They stop now and then to photograph, one with a digital SLR, the other with a cell phone. They seem like students. When I reach them I ask. One says yes, they have come all the way into Milwaukee from UW-Waukesha.


When I explain my own presence as artist in residence their expressions brighten with curiosity. One of them asks if there are any other places they can go to get good pictures. I hesitate, not knowing where to begin. Before I can formulate an answer, misinterpreting my gesture, she responds: “I guess not, huh?”

“On the contrary,” I reply quickly. “There are too many choices to describe them all. That’s why I’m here.”

To allay her sudden bewilderment I mention a couple of locations nearby that I revisit regularly. Then we part, setting off in opposite directions along the railroad tracks, seeking—each in our own fashion—to capture a fragment of this remarkable and complex place in the warmth of an Indian summer afternoon.


Myriad questions follow me down the tracks: I wonder what drew them to the Menomonee Valley, these two students from suburban Waukesha County? What will it mean to them? What essence of this place will they express in their photographs? Does it speak to them, as it does to me, in a cacophony of overlapping voices?

The Menomonee Valley is a model for economic redevelopment that integrates business and industry with restoration of natural processes. The post-industrial landscape still bears scars from decades of neglect and abuse and yet the new industrial landscape rising among them includes attractive parks and recreational venues. Here is a symbol of new urbanism, a contrary voice of hope in a world we are constantly told is facing imminent environmental collapse. Its story is one of transformation, not merely or even primarily the transformation of the land itself, as significant as that has been. There is a deeper narrative, one rooted in how we as humans relate to the land, how we have changed.


Rebecca Solnit says, “If environmental problems are really cultural problems—about the nature of our desires and perceptions—then a crucial territory to explore or transform is the territory of the mind.”1

What we have learned, here in the Menomonee Valley as elsewhere, is that our actions have consequences that often we cannot foresee. The destruction of a wild rice marsh once seemed so insignificant a price to pay for the growth of an industrial economy that no portion of it was spared. But, slowly, like an alcoholic trying with erratic success to stay on the wagon, we are learning how to live on the earth without destroying it. We are reintroducing natural features into a landscape thoroughly altered by human activity. In the process we are reintroducing ourselves to nature and learning to value its many manifestations, even and perhaps especially in the heart of the city.


As a counterpoint to common scenarios of environmental disaster, the transformation of the Menomonee Valley can resound as one of the success stories that symbolize the more important changes in the territory of the mind.

“Many…artists have been driven by a moral imperative” to play a role in this transformation, says Solnit. Like many rust-belt regions, the Menomonee Valley has been a magnet for artists. The two student photographers from Waukesha are just the latest to come here for inspiration. Are they here to mine the decaying past or celebrate the possibility of a brighter future?

I concur with Robert Adams who said, “The job of the photographer, in my view, is not to catalogue indisputable fact but to try to be coherent about intuition and hope.”2 Photography has a long tradition of aligning itself with concerns for nature and conservation of wilderness, as exemplified by an earlier Adams named Ansel. But in the late 20th Century Robert Adams and other photographers of the “New Topographics” school began to question the popular wilderness aesthetic. Pointing their cameras at human-altered landscapes, they rejected “longstanding landscape paradigms of the picturesque, pastoral, and sublime.”3 Instead they championed a clear-eyed examination of the land and our often troubling relationships with it.


Their efforts, arguably, have contributed a great deal to the still nascent transformation of the mind that is necessary to creating new, healthier and more sustainable relationships with the land. Today, of course, many things have changed, including photography, which is more democratic than ever. New technologies enable more people to photograph anything and everything, everywhere. Like the cacophony of voices that must be deciphered to hear the story of the Menomonee Valley, a multiplicity of overlapping paradigms now prevails in how we perceive our place on the land and in the world.

The romantic view is alive and well, sitting, somewhat uncomfortably perhaps, alongside dispassionate critique. New paradigms have joined the mix. Some of the voices are passionate advocates for change. Some speak of the need for community; others for a resurgence of spiritual perspectives.


Many of these paradigms are playing out in the Menomonee Valley. Part of my role as artist in residence, I believe, is to try to untangle the various threads of the story and “to be coherent about intuition and hope.” Post-industrial decay is so Twentieth Century. The challenge today is to discover and to reveal the surprising beauty of nature married with progress toward a sustainable future in unexpected places like this.

Forty years ago Robert Adams wrote, “Scenic grandeur is today sometimes painful. The beautiful places to which we journey for inspiration surprise us by the melancholy they produce.” He attributed that sense of melancholy to “the way we have damaged the country.”2 Although by many measures things have worsened since then, I believe there is reason for hope. That hope will be manifested most clearly when young people from the suburbs journey to places like the Menomonee Valley to be inspired, not by graffiti and residual blight but by the burgeoning beauty in the formerly damaged country of the inner city.

That may or may not have happened today but it is why I am here.



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Notes:

1. Solnit, Rebecca. As Eve Said to the Serpent: On Landscape, Gender, and Art. The University of Georgia Press. Athens. 2003.

2. Adams, Robert. Beauty in Photography: Essays in Defense of Traditional Values. Aperture. Millerton, N.Y. 1981.

3. Foster-Rice, Greg and Rohrbach, John. Reframing the New Topographics. Center for American Places at Columbia College Chicago. 2010.


This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Zimmerman is open for gallery night

You're invited!
Menomonee Valley 2014

Menomonee Valley Artist Residency
Open House
 

Along with my hosts at Zimmerman Architectural Studios I invite you to visit with me on gallery night. Come see my latest artworks.

Zimmerman Architectural Studios
2122 W. Mount Vernon St.

Friday, October 17
5:00 - 8:00 p.m.

New work and works in progress will be on display.
If you have never been to the historic gas building that Zimmerman remodeled for their offices, it's worth a visit in itself!

Refreshments will be served.

Zimmerman is easy to see but hard to find. It is the large brick structure behind the tall octagonal tower near 25th Street between St. Paul and Canal Streets. Access is from 25th Street.


If you can't make it on gallery night, feel free to contact me to make an appointment for a visit: eddee@eddeedaniel.com

Fly Fishing in the Menomonee River
To learn more about the Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency and for links to blog posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.

 

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Growing with the Menomonee Valley

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Even now, 24 years later, Kymme vividly remembers her first day in the Menomonee Valley. A sandblasting company had just hired her and she was looking for the building. She chuckles about it today, but back then it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

“I lived on the south side and was going to MATC at the time,” she told me.  “I had gone back and forth across the 16th Street Viaduct plenty of times and never paid attention to the Valley. It was an area that nobody went to. I saw railroad tracks and it was dirty and I thought there would be trouble down there. It looked scary!”
16th Street Viaduct
Then came the fateful day that the temp agency she worked for to help pay for college assigned her to the sandblasting company. She reminisced: “I had to find my way into the Valley. I don’t remember the address—probably it was Canal Street. The road didn’t even seem like a road. I had no idea where to go.”

She finally found the business in a non-descript building at the end of a dusty path lined with used tires. She recalls working there for a couple of months. For about a year after that she again gave little thought to the Valley. Then she was surprised to learn about a bingo hall that was under construction at the very location where the sandblasting company had been. “You couldn’t see the bingo hall from the viaduct,” she said with a smile.

As we spoke finishing touches were being added to the new 19-story hotel now looming over that viaduct. But even before the new addition it’s been many years since anyone could cross the 16th Street Viaduct without noticing the presence of Potawatomi Bingo & Casino (recently renamed Potawatomi Hotel & Casino). Kymme’s personal story is closely tied with the continual transformation that began with that first bingo hall, a transformation that extends from Potawatomi’s periods of expansion to revitalization of the surrounding Menomonee Valley, the place she had once shunned as scary.

The hotel opened in August
“I was hired February 28, 1991 and we opened in March. I was here from the beginning,” she said proudly. Kymme started as a pull-tab clerk. This meant walking up and down the bingo aisles selling tabs or tickets with combinations of symbols, some of which would be winning combinations that could be turned in for a cash prize. For several years after that she worked as the paper clerk who sold bingo sheets. Because of her qualifications and skills, she steadily worked her way up in the organization, becoming a supervisor, a payroll specialist, and eventually executive assistant to the General Manager.

After seven years at Potawatomi Kymme, who is Oneida, decided to take a break and return to her home in northern Wisconsin. The hiatus lasted two years before she returned. “I was bored up there,” she freely admits. Back in Milwaukee she studied bioscience at UWM, her sights aimed on a career as a crime scene investigator. She also went back to Potawatomi, working part time to support her studies. She remembers it as a busy time when she also became “a full time mom.”

After Potawatomi opened a poker room in 2001 Kymme dealt poker for a couple years. One day a friend suggested she apply to the public relations department. They needed a community relations specialist, she was told. “I didn’t know anything about PR,” she confesses, “but I knew a lot of people in the Native American community. I had the connections and resources.” This led to the Community Relations position she’s held ever since.

One of Kymme’s favorite duties has been to coordinate the annual Powwow, which is held in the Casino’s Expo Center. Although not widely advertised, the Powwow, with its traditional dances and singing, is open to the public. “It’s also the one time you can bring children to the casino,” Kymme tells me.

Before long, as the Menomonee Valley itself began to change, Kymme found herself the go-to person for people newly interested in the Native American heritage of the vicinity. She muses, “It was kind of funny because they were calling a casino to learn stuff about Native Americans.” But it seems natural enough for two reasons. First, as Kymme puts it, “We were here before it was Milwaukee.” But more to the point, perhaps, it was the return of the Potawatomi to this degraded landscape that helped inspire Milwaukee to turn things around.

“We were the first to see the potential,” Kymme says. When the tribe began investing in the valley and cleaning up the river “there was a domino effect” as other businesses saw the value of locating there. “Slowly it became a safe place and a beautiful place.”

Kymme is particularly happy to have the opportunity to work with the Urban Ecology Center as a cultural outreach and education specialist. The Center, which opened its Menomonee Valley Branch in July, 2013, has assumed stewardship of the new Three Bridges Park and has begun to introduce the natural world to children in nearby South Side neighborhoods.

With obvious emotion Kymme concludes, “I think the ancestors who lived here before it was Milwaukee are happy now.” 


This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.  

Monday, September 15, 2014

Doors Open at Zimmerman and Menomonee Valley Art Residency

Zimmerman Architectural Studios is on the Doors Open Milwaukee tour list and as Artist in Residence I will be there too. It will be a great opportunity to tour the spectacular building and also catch up on the work I've been doing. 

Briefly, the work I have been doing has taken me far and wide in the Valley, documenting the changing landscape and meeting people who are part of the transformation and revitalization of Milwaukee's central valley.

For a more thorough description of the Art Residency and an overview of my work to date click here.



Zimmerman Architectural Studios is at 2122 W. Mount Vernon St. The building is easy to see but hard to find. It is the large brick structure behind the tall octagonal tower near 25th Street between St. Paul and Canal Streets. Access is from 25th Street.
The building will be open from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. on Saturday, Sept. 20.

I hope you'll come for a visit.


For more information about Doors Open Milwaukee click here

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Cargill Sculpture Park: an "under-loved" park in the Menomonee Valley


Cargill, the giant food products corporation, has been in the news lately for closing its beef cattle slaughterhouse, resulting in the sudden loss of about 600 jobs. Earlier this year, it was at the center of a much quieter story of preservation. The company was in the process of demolishing several disused structures on its property. One of them, an old, decaying cattle ramp, had long formed the backdrop of a small sculpture park nestled in the Menomonee Valley.

The small, well-maintained sculpture park sits in the shadow of the 16th St. viaduct. It was created in the 1980s by Bernard Peck, vice president of the former Peck Meat Packing Corporation. Peck provided sculptors Joseph Mendla and Hilary Goldblatt with studio and gallery space and was inspired to turn part of the company’s grounds into a place for sculpture. 

"Menomonee," Hilary Goldblatt
Mendla and Goldblatt each contributed a sculpture to the new park.  Goldblatt’s contribution was a site-specific Cor-Ten steel abstraction entitled “Menomonee” that evokes the history of the Valley as well as its surroundings, including the cattle ramp and nearby viaduct. Mendla donated “Space Game,” a welded-steel sculpture with three interlocking parts in contrasting colors. The sculpture was originally intended for an indoor setting where the three pieces could be playfully rearranged. A concrete pedestal was added when the work was sited at the entrance to the corporate marketing center.

"Space Game," Joseph Mendla
(Historical note: When the family sold the Peck Meat Packing Corp. Mendla and Goldblatt moved to another Menomonee Valley studio where they established Hartbronze, which, at the time, was Milwaukee’s only commercial foundry specializing in art bronze.)

"Oops, Missed," Bernard Peck
Bernard Peck added a sculpture of his own to the park. He designed and constructed the whimsical piece entitled “Oops, Missed,” which features a stainless steel lightning bolt penetrating a brick wall topped by a lightning rod.

The 40-foot “Angel in a Cage” has perhaps the most compelling story and certainly the most commanding presence. Richard Pflieger, a student at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, created it for a class competition in 1983. MIAD approached Peck to find a site for the winning work and he agreed to place it in the new sculpture park. Inspired by the backyard shrines common on Milwaukee’s south side as well as the many fences in the valley, Pflieger’s bold statement suspended a fiberglass angel inside a tall cage of cyclone fencing.

"Angel in a Cage," Richard Pflieger
The news that Cargill might remove the towering sculpture mobilized members of the Milwaukee Arts Board, the Hank Aaron State Trail public arts committee (of which I am a member) and others who wanted to save it. City officials considered alternative sites, another Menomonee Valley artist offered to store it and bids were solicited for deinstalling the work.

When the concerns of the arts community and the cost of removal were presented to Cargill, though, the company decided to keep the sculpture in place. Although it might seem anticlimactic, the outcome highlighted overlapping constituencies in the Menomonee Valley, a place that is in the midst of dynamic transformation, where industries coexist with the arts, culture and recreational venues. Interest in a striking but often-overlooked sculpture park also was rekindled. For over 30 years this sculpture park has been more than a monument to Bernard Peck’s personal vision and passion for art. It is a visible statement that places art literally at the center of the industrial Valley, helping to make it more inviting and nurturing an enduring sense of place.

The part of the Cargill plant that is adjacent to the sculpture park is not part of the company that is closing down operations. Perhaps the best outcome of the story is the renewed attention the situation brought to an overlooked sculpture park. 

Untitled, Claire Liberman
This untitled stone sculpture by Claire Liberman rounds out the Cargill collection.

An edited version of this essay first appeared in Art City in a series on "Milwaukee area's under-loved parks." I want to thank Mary Louise Schumacher for inspiring this essay and creating the placemaking series on Art City.

Reference:

Buck, Diane M. and Virginia A. Palmer (1995). Outdoor Sculpture in Milwaukee: A Cultural and Historical Guidebook. The State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Madison

This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.