Last weekend I attended a symposium named “Art Meets History” at The Rokeby Museum. Overall, I enjoyed the discussions that evolved as the day progressed, but I left feeling a bit lukewarm about how well the presenters met the mark in aiding us to draw connections between our individual art practices and history.

But that isn’t the subject I’ve been mulling over this week. It’s not unusual to go to an event expecting one thing and to come away having gleaned something completely different. And that in itself can be worthwhile.

For me, the most important moment of the day was when another of the participants shared an experience of personal affront and crisis that was so overwhelming she couldn’t keep it to herself. It is not my story to share, but it led to a discussion and exploration of ways that art, as a form of expression and protest, can be a conduit for bringing awareness, catharsis, and perhaps even change.

These aren’t easy times and there are any number of worthy issues to dominate our consciousness, all meriting attention and consideration. Art provides one of the most salient platforms for bringing awareness and for expressing the myriad feelings and ideas that accompany thorny topics.

Vermonters are not shy about expressing their opinions and concerns; there is excellent work being made here that carries an underlying message — whether about the environment, our current political climate, or any other of a host of important issues. I often find myself feeling a bit out of step as I don’t approach my work with a cause to champion; my considerations are more home-centric and lean toward academic formalities.

My pieces celebrate day-to-day, run-of-the-mill household observations that often go unnoticed in the bustle of cellphones and busy schedules. Yet it is just such repetitive everyday sights which bring me (and I hope my viewers) pleasure and even comfort, offering a sense of constancy amid the tumult and distress that accompanies the unrelenting barrage of news.

Protest is important yet there should also be room in our consciousness for quiet statements that give us hope, reminding us of the good that surrounds us each day. We need to honor the moments that bring joy via their simplicity and their universality. We need refuge.

So, in a world of causes and points to be made, perhaps my simple tablescapes and dog shadows have more to contribute than I thought.

❖

This weekend marks the opening of the 2019 Rijswijk Textile Biennial which runs from June 18 to October 6th.

I am so excited that four of my pieces (shown below) were selected to be part of the exhibit alongside the work of 21 other artists from across the world.

While scheduling prevents my making it to the opening, I’m looking forward to getting to the exhibit this fall. Should you be traveling to The Netherlands before October 6th, please do consider a trip to the Rijswijk Museum, only 3.5 miles from The Hague.