Rose is a rose is a rose and not a rose.
Do you go to workshops?
I mentioned in the January/February Newsletter that I went to a workshop on the Kinmon Seal in January of this year. I was interested in learning about the evolution of Chinese characters dating back to the Chinese bronze inscriptions Age B.C. 1300- A.D.219. The Kinmon Seal I made at that time is stamped on the hand-painted scarves of January and February 2023. The shape of the Kinmon Seal is originally highly designed, so it has a strong presence when stamped on the hem of a scarf. It was an absolutely valuable experience.
This summer, I was interested in an exhibition by photographer Laura Letinsky at the Academy Art Museum, Easton Maryland and in a workshop she conducted.
Letinsky's photographs depict a variety of objects in a supernatural manner. She masterfully renders the color, volume, and surface texture of the objects while meticulously calculating light, space, and the chaos and form within each.
What attracted me to her work was the unbalanced connectivity of each object. On the wrinkled and stained white tablecloth, a half-eaten tangerine and a used, empty glass sit in the corner of the table. The table looks as if the meal is over. Plates are stacked on top of each other, silver knives are about to fall off the table, and trash is just barely resting on the table instead of falling to the floor. I really like the work that expresses such a sensitive balance and gravity in her works. And I can see her works in the following words she said at the workshop:
1/ “Photography is not about capturing the moment.
Photography is about overlaying what you want to express, shaping information, creating how you want to see it. It is not about seeing for the sake of seeing.”
2/ “ What decays is being discarded implies finality; everything is memento mori. In other words, darkness is a moment ahead. Let's not forget that eventuality is a daily routine for all of us.”
3/ Letinsky also quoted a poem by Gertrude Stein (1874-1946), a famous novelist, poet and art collector. "Rose is a rose is a rose…” is a famous line from Stein’s poem, “Sacred Emily.”
“Repeating the same word changes the meaning of the singular rose. The memory of what should have been a rose may become rose, rose, rose, rose, and the enchanting fragrance and beauty may be mindful of beauty in a beautifully blooming flower. Beauty may find beauty even when it is not a rose, that is, becoming rose-ness.”
I felt a strong sense of enjoyment and empathy in the fact that the meaning of taking her photographs is that, like rose-ness, the memory inherits it, and although it loses its identity, she makes an act of regaining it.
And about my workshop. I, myself, will be conducting a workshop as well. I taught textile techniques in the’90s. I have been away from teaching for about 20 years, but most of the reasons to come help people carry on the tradition. For the past 20 years, silk production has been declining rapidly. I want to tell people about silk before it is too late and disappears.
I would like to share with people in a workshop, that working with silk involves not just technique, but also, to explain the origin and history of this fiber. And guide how people interpret their own way of thinking and moving through materials.
Silk is silk is silk is silk. Again, repeating words will be losing its identity and recreating new ideas from original meaning. Silk may be discontinued and disappear in the near future. Possibly replaced by something else. But who would notice? I would. And you would, too.
Next essay, I would like to talk about silk. Hope you will enjoy learning about silk, too.
Scarf of this month will be “Rose is a rose is a rose and not a rose.”
Happy summer!
-Yuh