The Final Word on the Last Stone

 Final Words on a Last Rock

In the years from 1983 to 1985, during my studies at the Central Academy of Fine Art in Beijing, a vendor selling rocks from Inner Mongolia would come by the school every six weeks or so to sell his wares. He would lay a cloth out on the open ground onto which he spilled out polished rocks in all shapes, sizes and colors. These all had one side that was flat for the purpose of carving out stamps. The carved stamps, or seals, were an integral part of Chinese painting, so the eager clients for these beautiful stones were the professors of painting and calligraphy at the Academy. 

The stones were marvels of simple artistry, shaped so that they would fit neatly into the grasp of the artist’s hand. Sometimes I missed buying the best examples because I was too dumbfounded by the beautiful display to make an offer while the professors had already begun their bargaining. But the haggling gave me another opportunity, because I never haggled. It wasn’t in me. Whatever the rock seller asked for I gave him, often while the others were still haggling. In this way, over the period of two years I amassed a substantial collection of rocks for seal carving. I carried many of these around in the decades that followed: from China to Holland, from Holland to New Jersey, then finally to South Carolina. 

The traditional Chinese calligraphic form that carvers used for seals was called Zhuan, or seal script. Many of these characters were more pictographic than modern Chinese (modern here meaning about the last two thousand years). The script had originated on ancient Chinese bronzes from the Shang and Zhou dynasties. In 2015 the script was designated a UNESCO world heritage cultural art form.

While many professional seal carvers that I knew had a treasure trove of zhuan characters committed to memory, when carving my own seals I generally relied on textbooks such as the Metal and Stone Dictionary (Jin Shi Da Zi Dian). Every now and then, when I had the occasion, I would carve a stone seal or two and use the prints in my painting. To expand the collection, I added hard linoleum into the mix, but the carving wasn’t quite as crisp as the rock carving, nor was there the allure of the rock itself as an art object. 

After so many decades of carving, the collection that began with the vendor from Inner Mongolia came to its inevitable conclusion. I had at long last come to the end of my collection of uncarved rocks. That last uncarved rock was a milky white pleasingly curved beauty. It felt good to hold. But what to write on it? Should not those final words be a suitable summation of the long rocky journey? 

Initially, I was inspired from looking at an exhibition by modern calligraphers at Yale, to carve only a picture on this last rock. There was an artist in this exhibition, Yi Qian, who carved nothing more than his own face into the rock, stamping his identity onto his work using a visual portrait rather than a signature in ancient script. So I designed a stylized drawing of my long face and large eyes for this last rock. But I could not resist the desire to fashion some script into the hair. It took a while before settling on what would be the final words. The phrase “Final Word,” seemed to be the ideal choice. It helped that the zhuan style calligraphy form for “final,” or “hou” had the appearance of a braid. Reading more about this form, I found that it had a secondary meaning of “queen.” The last rock is pictured below.  

An Exhibition of Paintings and Drawings at the Orangeburg Arts Center

 At long last, I’ve decided to attend to my nearly fallow blog to mention my current exhibition at the Orangeburg Arts Center here in Orangeburg, South Carolina. This has been an adventurous year since I last wrote. I spent a month in Romania then returned for the summer, bringing Covid-19 home as an unwelcome souvenir. I had an exhibition and book signing for my full length poetry book, A Rendering of Soliloquies: Figures Painted in Spots of Time, at Stormwater Studios in Columbia, South Carolina. Then it was back to Romania for the autumn semester.

Despite the fact that my Fulbright scholar husband was the main event for us at Alexandru Ioan Cuza University in Iasi, the professors there offered me an opportunity to speak about my own books and art. It was fun and challenging to give a short introduction in Romanian. I will miss Iasi – especially the performances at the local neo-classical opera house. 

You can read more about the exhibition in the Times & Democrat: https://thetandd.com/news/local/orangeburg-artist-brings-together-images-and-poetry-ukrainian-family-history-shared-amid-concerns/article_e648fd36-3afd-5e92-9522-165b16512b6c.html#tracking-source=home-top-story

 Sad to see that this was cancelled!

I will be teaching Chinese Calligraphy again in person at Common Ground on the Hill at McDaniel College in Westminster, Maryland.  This will be the first in person meeting since the pandemic hit in 2020.  And it will be the first time for me to teach in person at Common Ground since 2011.  I had managed to teach virtually last summer.  It was my first (and maybe my last) zoom course, and, although it was awkward I got through it.  Zoom had its benefits, though, as it allowed a friend from the west coast to participate.  Follow the link to register. I will be teaching Chinese Calligraphy again in person at Common Ground on the Hill at McDaniel College in Westminster, Maryland.  This will be the first in person meeting since the pandemic hit in 2020.  And it will be the first time for me to teach in person at Common Ground since 2011.  I had managed to teach virtually last summer.  It was my first (and maybe my last) zoom course, and, although it was awkward I got through it.  Zoom had its benefits, though, as it allowed a friend from the west coast to participate.  Follow the link to register. https://www.commongroundonthehill.org/classes/chinese-calligraphy

 This will be the first in person lecture in about a year.  I'll be discussing how Chinese language and poetry has influenced my work.  Many thanks to the Poetry Society of South Carolina for helping to sponsor this event. 

Lost, Found, and Remade Pit Fired Ocarinas

 

This autumn, my ceramic work has alternated between the glossy and decorative and the austere and natural.  For some time now, I’ve been working on increasing the range of my ceramic ocarinas - which have been pit fired in the austere, zen-like mode.  The examples here were made with some leftover raku clay.  The raku clay was heavily textured with grog in order to withstand the thermal shock of sudden temperature fluctuations.  This is not really necessary for pit fired ceramics, but I had a bag of raku clay that I wanted to use up, so decided to experiment.

These large ocarinas were made in response to a little mishap, in which a box of pit fired ocarinas went missing from the last exhibition venue.  The center was absolutely certain that they weren’t there and I was absolutely exhausted turning my house and studio upside-down in search of a box that I knew was not there.  At one point, I thought that my hapless husband, who was doing a massive amount of recycling, might have accidentally tossed the box into the bin.

If the box had gone missing under ordinary circumstances, like just a recently exhibited collection of things that was being returned, then things would be disappointing but otherwise not bruising.  But contained in this missing box were two ocarinas that had been purchased, with clients eagerly looking forward to them being shipped.  I offered substitutes, but my clients really wanted the specific art that they had purchased.

A few more weeks went by, and the box of ocarinas did not appear.  So I resigned myself to creating new ones, making one as close as I could to the sold but missing one.  For the rest, experimentation on the raku clay yielded some interesting results.  Since the clay was already pitted and textured, I splattered on terra sigillata, oxides, and mica chips - giving the forms the impression that they were hewn from rocks - or perhaps were found cobblestones that you can just happen to blow into and produce songs.

Just for fun, I pressed into the wet clay forms to shape them to my grasp, making them quite comfortable to hold.  This one was painted with designs reminiscent of Pre-Columbian the burnished ceramic vessels that I had enjoyed seeing in museum collections.

A friend and I put all the bisqued ocarinas into a pit fire, added some salt and copper carbonate and stoked a fire.  The fire ended up not being quite reduced enough with the smothering, so I had to bake a second time and smother again  - the air got to it!

In the mean time, the missing box of ocarinas was found, and now I have a new collection of ceramic ocarinas of many shapes and sizes to dispense with.

A Rendering of Soliloquies - Figures Painted in Spots of Time

 Finally!  My full length poetry book is published and available.  This concludes a few decades of additions, subtractions and revisions.  Many of the people who originally posed for the paintings and drawings have grown old, some passed away, and children have grown and move up and onwards in the world.  So this picture book has in some respects taken on an elegiac quality.  I am not certain now whether to call it a well polished work or a seasoned one.  Here is the link: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/a-rendering-of-soliloquies-by-janet-kozachek/

There are over fifty drawings and paintings in the book.  With so many, it was difficult to choose one for the cover.  My husband encouraged me to go with something red.  So the painting "The Red Shirt" now graces the cover.

 The exhibition, Artists Drawing Artists, opens today at Stormwater Studios in Columbia, SC.  This was a really fun exhibition to prepare for.  Artists paired up and exchanged photographs of themselves.  Many of the artists knew each other so were able to creatively incorporate personal life and art themes into the final portraits.  The portrait that Jeri Burdick did of me, for instance, alludes to my monumental snake paintings.  My portrait of Jeri included a tongue-in-cheek references to the weirder photos that I had sent of myself to her.  The background in Jeri's portrait is embellished with Jeri's free style brushwork.  These portraits made the local news! https://wach.com/features/arts-wach/artists-drawing-artists-stormwater-studios-exhibition?fbclid=IwAR2QRaaGVrjBS3hSOOw-KsQ6mrVqgJb5GBtjakO_4DHJBqhVHRTRfIWkDIs

 Yesterday I was interviewed by the New York Parrot regarding my previously published books, The Book of Marvelous Cats, and My Women, My Monsters. We also discussed my upcoming full length poetry collection, A Rendering of Soliloquies, Figures Painted in Spots of Time.  Many thanks to my publisher, Finishing Line Press, for helping to arrange this.  Enjoy the talk and a view of my art-cluttered studio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvcJgdsDIbk

Paper and Steel: Three Versions of "Initiate" and a Poem by Tamara Miles

  On of my tiny drawings, entitled “Initiate,” was selected as part of the brochure for Paper and Steel. But try as I might, I could not locate this drawing.  As the time to hang  this exhibition drew near, I figured that the only solution to the dilemma of the lost work was to draw it over again.  The first drawing was a mere 4" x 6,” so I decided to make the copy 9" x 12,” which better suited its place among the other 9" x 12" charcoal and ink paintings.  So this was hung with the rest of the exhibitions of calligraphic dancers, and I never mentioned that this was a replacement.

Then news came of a small painting that I had made from the sketch, also 4" x 6.”  This color version was sold at the Artists for Africa exhibition.  My donation made me feel a little less useless as an artist and someone in Africa will get needed food, shelter and clothing - perhaps even a dance scholarship.

The night of the Ekphrastic Poetry Reading at Paper and Steel came next.  The poet Tamara Miles selected the drawing of Initiate to write for.  Ah! I thought.  Good thing that I replaced this drawing.  The new drawing, was a bit more lively than the original drawing but not quite as fancy as the painting.  Dr. Miles gave an outstanding performance of her moving poem, which she is graciously sharing for this blog post and other social media.  The poem will be attached to the wall near the painting so it can be appreciated in person.  Paper and Steel will be on exhibit at the Orangeburg County Fine Arts Center until June 30.  

Initiate

-Tamara Miles, after a drawing by Janet Kozachek

To begin, I raise my arms

In perfect praise

to be introduced,

a spark flown

from the initiator’s hand --

and if I learn the way of peace,

an operatic sway,

what promises are made to me?

Just one: You’ll never be the same,

as wild ones once are tamed,

and wild no more.

This ceremony seals,

a holy spirit steals

our names.

An oogenesis occurs --

where we were, 

someone newborn.

Whatever oath was asked,

we’ve sworn.

Paper and Steel: An Ekphrastic Poetry Reading by Mind Gravy Poetry

 The ekphrastic poetry reading by Mind Gravy Poetry was a moving tribute to the art work in the exhibition Paper and Steel, at the Orangeburg County Fine Arts Center.  Mind Gravy always does a great job with this.  In my previous blog, I wrote a short review of Derek Berry's recent publication, Glitter Husk.  At the poetry reading a week ago, Derek chose my drawing, Conspiracy Theories, to write and perform for.  It was a tiny 5" x 7" charcoal drawing, but it caught his attention.  Mr. Berry has graciously allowed me to share his composition for the art work: 

conspiracy theories, after janet kozachek

what must god have felt

when the floodwaters crammed

the lungs of non-believers?

what must have noah’s sons

thought when their friends drowned,

mud and blood and screaming

in the rush of water, the image

of god a turned back,

a night sky? did they whisper

to one another of cruelty?

empathy? or did they cluck

their tongues at those

who had named the dark clouds a conspiracy?

there must be some moment

when children look at their fathers

and understand they are also sons,

when they understand their parents

cannot answer for god.

on facebook, the mother of my childhood best friend

implores her friends to abandon ship.

they will no longer put up with the fake news,

the stolen election, the wicked vaccines,

the homosexual agenda, the millennial generation,

the microchips, the freudian slips,

the children in cages or the children in basements,

the children learning about evolution in schools,

the children who will grow up to one day hate them

for all they do not believe to be true.

i too have huddled with friends

in smoky rooms and asked the questions

about the cia, the man, the medical establishment,

the history not taught in schools, the slaughters forgotten,

the unions busted, the god written and rewritten

into thousands of books, then painted white

and hung on a plastic cross hanging from the neck

of the mother of my childhood best friend,

who believes i’m the enemy.

i do not how to trust anymore.

i do not know how to point to the truth

& say, “this is the truth,” without flinching

at everything i do not know.

i do not know how to ask god, “why?”

without wondering when my children will ask me the same question.

but i know i touch my lover’s

face with the same hands

once cradled in the palms

of that woman, who once fed me,

who once when i was a toddler,

kept me alive for three days

while my brother was born premature in the hospital.

a woman who loved me, in a way,

until i grew up to become one of the drowned.