Art Junket Salon: Echo

April 3, 2022 Art Junket Salon

Congratulations! Happy 7th Anniversary of the Art Junket - 2015-2022.

The Art Junket Salons are still showing and sharing. I wont lie. It has been a bumpy ride and at times I feared, “Well, I guess this is the end of the Art Junket.” Many of us moved out of the Bay Area and some of us have missed Salons. Some of us just felt tired. Uninspired. But, this Spring seems different. It looks like artists are getting some energy back. And with this new energy, I am seeing artists expanding their creativity, trying new things.

A summary of the stories from the Junketeers:

Annelise Dohrer is getting married and made art with Emu eggs. Katie Fitzmahan Strange went to Barcelona, started a PhD program, had a baby, came back, and bought a home on Vashon Island. Erin and Maureen bought 20 acres of woods in New York. Erin set up a business: Magical Homemaking. Brian and Manya are re-renovating their home. Maureen moved to Tokyo in 2021 and she is making mokuhanga (woodcut printing) prints. Tao is working at Alta Vista School in SF. Tony is making music. Zoey moved to Nevada City and is thinking of using a different color. Katie was invited to put on a gallery show on Vashon Island. Taska and Karianne took a challenge on “Slack” to make 100 pieces of art, one piece a day. Taska joined the Salon from the ski slopes of Palisades and showed a 3 dimensional work echoing the mountains. Erin made an art piece depicting a painful experience from middle school and then cut away the power those memories held over her. Yun took her photos from Hawaii using Photoshop and made a mesmerizing and calming experience.

Karianne Jones Silverman, USA b. 1969. Empty. El Cerrito, California. 2022. Paper, wire, tempura. 7”x12.” Art Junket theme: Echo.

The theme of Echo was so big for me I wasn’t sure I could focus it into one project. I started collecting toilet paper rolls thinking something might come of it. Then I found myself with ever-increasing anxiety about climate chaos and became unable to throw away stuff. ‘I can’t contribute to the overflowing landfills, I must use and repurpose all of the stuff. We are emptying our resources on this planet. We think it’s limitless. We are emptying bowls that can’t be refilled.’ My anxiety got to be too much. It’s channeled in this piece called Empty.

Yun Suh. Flow. Digital Art, Photography. Hawaii. 2022.

Annelise Dohrer. Ume Eggs with Numbers of Life. April 2022. California.

Erin Mahollitz. Anshin, New York. April 2022.

Taska Sanford, USA, b 1974. Wandering-Mountains in Echo. Palisades Ski Resort, Lake Tahoe, California. April 2022. 6" x 9" x1", closed. The Art Junket theme: Echo

Echos travel through air. They range and seek out surfaces to ricochet around. Each contact changes the original sound waves slightly. What we do on the surface of the planet echos down into the earth. Each strata holds a record of our noise, but with slight differences. Deep time muffles our marks. I traverse the page with a scratching stylus and record the nuances.

Taska Sanford. Day 10/100. February 2022.

mbfitzmahan, USA & Ireland, 1948. Ume Plum. Tokyo, Japan. April 2022. Mokuhanga (Japanese wood cut print) and sumi ink. Art Junket theme: Echo.

I interpreted the Echo theme by taking my art medium of photography and ‘echo’ it onto another medium, wood cut printing. Living in Japan, it seemed appropriate to learn an old Japanese art form and apply it to the art form I am most familiar with, photography. I hand made a carbon copy of my photograph. I carved the images onto 3 pieces (woods image) or two pieces (ume blossoms) of Shina woodblock, and then applied water based pigments to each woodblock. Finally I took moistened washi (Japanese fabric based paper), covered the block and pressed the image onto the paper. The first image is from a photograph of an ancient Japanese screen. The second is from a photograph of Anshin - our 20 acres of woods in New York.

mbfitzmahan, USA & Ireland, 1948. Anshin. Tokyo, Japan. April 2022. Mokuhanga (Japanese wood cut print). Art Junket theme: Echo.

Manya Nelson. Life and Death. El Cerrito, California. April 2022.

Karianne Jones Silverman. Berkeley, California. March 2022.

Brian Nelson. Echo. El Cerrito, California. April 2022

Karianne Jones Silverman. Day 4/100. February 2022.

Brian Nelson: Coffee at the Docks

Brian Nelson

Unloading Coffee in San Francisco, 1973.

Ed Nelson (my brother) and partner reach into a tight corner, winding up for a 6-foot toss onto a pallet board.

Among the many hands that brought coffee beans from plantations in the developing world to markets in the wealthy countries of North America and Europe in 1973 were those of the Longshoremen working in the holds of cargo vessels on the San Francisco waterfront. I was a Ship Clerk, down in the cargo holds with them, tallying. I took these, and hundreds more photographs, on the waterfront throughout the 1970's.

Brian Nelson. Roy, at the controls of the winches (at right), hoists the load out of the cargo hold. Roy was a London Docker prior to immigrating to San Francisco.

Brian Nelson. Willy Dedoud (aka The Dutchman, who often sang at work) hooks up a pallet down in the Lower Hold, 30 to 50 feet below the Maindeck.

Partners Willy Dedoud and Herman Garcia throw a pallet board on which they will build a load of 12 bags.

Photos and Words by Brian Nelson.
Brian Nelson is a member of the Art Junket. (2017-2022)

Ana Perches: Manos a la Obra!

Ana Perches

You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry. Frida Kahlo

I paint flowers so they will not die. Frida Kahlo

Ana Perches

“You deserve a lover who makes you feel safe, who can consume this world whole if he walks hand in hand with you; someone who believes that his embraces are a perfect match with your skin.
You deserve a lover who wants to dance with you, who goes to paradise every time he looks into your eyes and never gets tired of studying your expressions.
You deserve a lover who listens when you sing, who supports you when you feel shame and respects your freedom; who flies with you and isn’t afraid to fall.
You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.” ― Frida Kahlo

Ana Perches

In the morning of Saturday, October 3rd, I panicked, “is our salon tomorrow?” I asked myself. Not checking the calendar, I decided, well…let’s try to get started, which I did.

I had an unused frame, 30 in. x 20 in., that I planned to use. First I approached it vertically, then I decided to turn it horizontal because my objective was to showcase Frida’s wardrobe.

On Friday, October 2nd, I had been disappointed at having to cancel my reservation at the de Young Museum where they were featuring Frida’s wardrobe. I canceled my reservation due to poor air quality in the Bay Area, but was able to reschedule October 28th.

About my medium - I’ve been in the collage mode. Partly due to the fact that I don’t feel like drawing and, partly because I haven’t been able to come up with any ideas to paint. So, I’ve been collecting visuals from magazines, old postcards, pamphlets and such. They aren’t always well organized but sort of.

Someone recommended a fantastic découpage glue that I adore (Liquitex, which is superior to Hodge Podge). I like my Cutco scissors which retail for about $100 and which were my mom’s who believed in buying the best. I love cutting and pasting like in elementary school. Okay, so I had plenty of materials.

Manos a la obra! Let’s do it!

I started with a silly sketch of the Mona Lisa, because I planned to merge Frida with Mona (but about 90% Frida) because somehow the theme of becoming was there.

We want to become like someone else but we want to become ourselves. And, what if, what if, what if, Frida had met Mona or had married Da Vinci and what if Diego Rivera had painted Mona Lisa, nude, of course. Now, that’s an idea for another art piece.

Ana Perches

See what a theme like Becoming can do? To sum up Saturday, my first day working on my project, which took me all day,  I got most of it done. The next day I added a few things (worked on it for a couple hours) and today I hope to finish it, but it’s basically done and it will be framed.

I will explain more on how the theme fits in when we meet on October 17th.  

The art and words are by Ana Perches.
Ana Perches, living in Berkeley, California, is a founding member of the Art Junket (2015-2020).
You can see the de Young Museum, “Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Be Deceiving,” in San Francisco from September 25, 2020 to February 2021.

Taska Sanford: Cicadas Sing

Taska Sanford

I don’t really know what it was like when she was born, but I do know what it was like when she died.

That’s the way I always imagined my mom Caroline Gage Sanford was born. (Taska Sanford)

“Wednesday July 15, 1942
Cicadas sang
A young man took a drink
A young woman cursed
A crack of lightning struck and a tiny baby screamed her way into the world.
The little girl thought - Com-on Let’s get this started.”

Taska Sanford

Caroline Gage Stanford

That’s the way I imagined my mom, Caroline Gage Sanford, was born. I don’t really know what it was like when she was born, but I do know what it was like when she died.

I accepted the duty and the privilege to escort her to her death. She died Saturday, July 25th 2020, at home next to her garden just as she planned.

It was cancer, in the time of a pandemic, during lockdown. That part she did not ask for but she accepted it, matter of factly.

1001 Southern Nights

People will either write some form of memorial or at least think of one when they can not sleep in the darkest part of the night. With that in mind, writing this I still felt so disconnected.

As one friend, also going through loss, said it pointedly, “Your first home is now gone.”

Caroline Gage Stanford

The days of raw primal grief felt like the darkest of nights. Alone in my head while the world slept, I wrote this memorial over and over and over.

Because the thought of telling you about how I knew her kept Mom just a little closer, a little warmer, a little less dead.

I then began a transformation. I took on a new identity. I left behind caregiver, daughter, youngest child, and put on the shining, embellished robes of Scheherazade. You remember from One Thousand and One Arabian Nights? Scheherazade was married to a terrible Sultan that married girls only to kill them the next morning and then married again... until Sheherazade arrived. She beguiled the sultan by spinning the greatest stories ever - to keep herself alive day after day.  So I have become Shaherazade telling stories night after night. Stories that keep my mother alive in my heart one more day and then one more day and on and on. 

What story do I tell you? The time in high school in a heated moment when told my very favorite teacher, Mr. Yates, to fuck off? Mom laughed so hard when I told her, she spit out her coca-cola.

Or I could tell you about that day when I was in high school and she said in all seriousness, “Taska, you will need to learn how to make money to buy your own groceries and pay your own rent, but I will always buy you art supplies.”

Caroline Gage Stanford

High school was rough, like it often is, and I had trouble connecting with my dearest friends for a time. I found myself at home in the giant house on West Drive feeling alone but not wanting to go out. Then a new friend came along and reached out to me. Mom, who had worked long hours to set up her own psychology business, now had the time to see her daughter struggling with teenage life. So she stopped being as much of a mother and instead became my friend.

We did so much together that gave me joy and confidence. She taught me to garden, to sing, to call bad drivers “jackass!”

We talked on the phone every week - I mean EVERY week when I left for college. We wrote letters. We took cool art classes together and sent altered art books back and forth across the country.

Caroline Gage Stanford

And then as life progressed my dad died in 2013 and she lost her partner in crime. And because family is family, without batting an eye, Travis, Cedar, and I brought Mom (now Nana) out to California to live with us. When thanking Travis for so readily welcoming my mom, he said he had promised my dad to help her. So we did.

And for the next 6 years while I slid from the role of daughter to mother, my mom constructed a new life out here that was quickly built on music, gardens, art, new friends, and late nights at the bars!

I could also tell you the story about the week when Cecelia came to visit. The cancer was coming down on mom fast and furious. Then her beloved friend and cousin,  Cecilia Chilton, flew into town despite the pandemic. She fired up the iPads and she and Mom attended Augusta Music Camp online. What a phenomenon! I could not believe the strength and vigor mom regained. Her ailing voice returned and she played her guitar again and again.  Then the week ended, July 18th, Cecilia returned home, and mom lay down her guitar…...    

Taska Sanford

Alright Dad, I think we all did our part well with Mom’s last years. Now you and Mom can drive off in the Dodge minivan into the desert, together.

So you see I do have 1001 stories to tell about this amazing woman.

The art books are by Caroline Gage Stanford. The words and photographs are by Taska Sanford.
Taska Sanford, living in the the Bay Area, is a member of Art Junket West (2018-2022).

Mural for a Community

The Alta Visa School Mural, San Francisco. Designer and muralist: Kaitlin Fitzmahan Strange. Art Junket Volunteers: Yun Suh, Annelise Dohrer, Zoey Olbum.

Alta Vista School, San Francisco, California

In April, Kaitlin Strange went looking for a wall. A wall?! I might look for a canvas or a new lens. Searching for a wall… is that something like Winnie the Pooh a-hunting for a Woozle?

Having painted murals with Susan Cervantes at Precita Eyes in the Mission District of San Francisco, Kaitlin thinks taking a wall and turning it into public art is a good thing.

In the 1960s, Latinos in the Mission District in San Francisco, borrowed the Mexican mural tradition from Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros, and painted murals as part of the Chicano Mural Movement. Kaitlin wrote her Masters thesis on those murals.

In May of 2019, Kaitlin found her newest wall. Alta Vista School in South Bay, San Francisco welcomed Katie to design and lead a mural painting project. After approximately 30 hours of painting, 20 gallons of paint, and with the help of about 25 volunteers, Katie's mural was completed in 3 days.

Zoey Olbum, Art Junketeer volunteering.

“The Alta Vista lower school had been talking about painting a mural at the school for years, but it has never happened (though there is a small one in the garden). It was the community at the Art Junket that has made this possible -- from Maureen's Level Up theme and her encouragement to go BIG, to Katie's vision and execution, to Annelise and Zoey helping to paint and to Manya and Brian's volunteer efforts for fire survivors. It was a real team effort, which I value most and find most satisfying in the art of creation. We weathered through a little bit of drizzle, lots of strong winds, and many hours of repetitive movements. I'm exhausted but feel so grateful and satisfied to create meaningful work that will brighten so many children's days. Many parents who volunteered commented on how the mural really cheered them up upon seeing it. “ (Yun Suh, documentarian and member of the Art Junket West)

Words: Yun Suh and Maureen Fitzmahan

Designer of mural: Kaitlin Fitzmahan Strange

Photos: Kaitlin Strange and Yun Suh

Yun Suh is a member of Art Junket West and Katie is a co-founder of the Art Junket.

Ana Perches: Assemblage - Theater

Assemblage - Theater

I rummaged through the basement and found a wooden wine box, and began to plan which of the objects I had at home could be arranged, pasted or attached to the inside of the box, as in a theater stage. (Ana Perches, 2018 )

I consider myself a self-taught artist. Only since 2014 have I engaged in art in a systematic manner after joining the Art Junket collective. For my first piece in 2014, I rummaged through the basement and found a wooden wine box, and began to plan which of the objects I had at home could be arranged, pasted or attached to the inside of the box, as in a theater stage. A theme emerged: Cielito Lindo, the Mexican folk song addressing a loved one, usually translated My Beautiful Sky or Heaven, the idea being “My Dear One.” At the center of the box is a small skeleton doll which I dressed as La Muerte with a piñata stick, hitting a smaller female doll hoisted by a wire, and who has blood on her clothes. This was my first assemblage, and is currently at home in my private collection.

mbftizmahan. Ana Perches. Photo. Berkeley, California. 2019.

I had not yet discovered the work of Joseph Cornell, the master of Assemblage and of the shadow box, until an art historian friend from Mills College pointed him out to me. I read about him, about his poetic theater-boxes and unexpected juxtaposition of objects. He was self-taught, a collector, a fan of second-hand stores. His story-boxes emerge from his psyche and dreams to invite the viewer into his own private world.

For subsequent projects I explored painting on canvas with acrylic paints and soon found myself wanting to cut and paste on canvas or wood, incorporating collage, fabric and three-dimensional objects. I am drawn to performance, to costumes, to movement and story-telling, as for many years I taught Mexican theater at the University of Arizona, and wrote plays which I staged, produced and directed for my students. Prominent themes in my plays were the border, feminism and politics. I find myself carrying these themes onto a smaller stage now, dramatizing not with words or actors but with objects, colors and textures.

I’ve always been a lover of the fine arts, but also of outsider art, and what the French call Art Brut (unpolished, unrefined, natural, “rough”). I found I had an affinity for this kind of art, well-suited to my limited drawing skills and technical immaturity. My kind of art is a bit “on the edge” but also physically and psychologically on the edge of the US-Mexican border. The Rio Grande separates the United States from Mexico and the Río Bravo separates Mexico from the United States. Same river, different name, same desert. A space overlapping two nations but a single space, joined and divided. This “both” and this “neither” is the basis of Border Art, a form inspired by graffiti, street art, outsider art and performance art. And by my own experience as a person from the border, a borderix.

Front page art: Ana Perches, Coyolxauhqui (Aztec Moon Goddess). 2015.

Artwork and words: Ana Perches

Ana Perches is a 2014 founding member of the Art Junket. She works out of Berkeley, California.

Photo of Ana: Maureen Fitzmahan

Ana Perches, Assemblage #3, 2014

Ana Perches, Cielito Lindo. Assemblage #1, 2014

Ana Perches, El Paso. Assemblage #3, 2018