Reflections on Things Created

Within the span of eight days, I will have experienced three outings that are in some way related to art and creativity. While I very much enjoy hunkering down in my own little cave, there is something about these explorations that add dimension to my life.

This past Saturday, March 14th, I went with a friend to San Francisco's Legion of Honor to see an exhibit entitled "Artistic Luxury: Faberge, Tiffany, and Lalique." I was particularly interested in seeing the Faberge eggs about which I had learned in a Russian art history class. These eggs, which could take several years to make, were created for Czars Alexander III and Nicholas II of Russia between 1885 and 1917. An individual egg could take Peter Faberge and his assistants several years to make. I was familiar with Tiffany as a contemporary source of jewelry that is probably well out of my price range, but unfamiliar with Lalique, who regarded himself as a sculptor as well as a jeweler.

When I go to museum exhibits, I often play at choosing one or several pieces that I imagine taking home. My friend and I enjoyed this little game, agreeing to a round of rock-paper-scissors when we both wanted the same piece. After a while, the sheer extravagance of the wealthy original possessors of these beautiful items began to annoy me. I began to contrast their possession laden lives with the lives of the ordinary and very poor people beneath them. A commentator on the auditory tour to which I was listening with headphones explained that for these very rich people even the mundance items that they used were expected to be works of art. One gentleman had dozens of cigarette cases, each made with precious metals and jewels. Choosing which one to use was a daily decision

As my friend and I stood judging these long dead people for their obscene avarice, we also had to chuckle at our own sense of moral superiority. These shallow rich folks were as much products of their own time and culture as we are. Though their shoes were far more comfortable than those on the lower rungs of the social ladder, we haven't had to walk in them. In fact the bejeweled aristocratic women looked pretty darn uncomfortable in their splendor. Beyond that and with few exceptions, we who live in the U.S.A. and other "modern" countries routinely enjoy a level of material abundance that even the very rich could not have imagined. Modern plumbing is the first thing that comes to mind. Mass produced automobiles and the freedom of movement that they provide comes second.

At another level, I think there really is something unappealing about too much of a good thing. It would be fun, I think, to own some of the beautiful pieces on display It would be even more fun to be able to purchase all of them while choosing to own only a few. If everything that one uses is a work of art, don't they all blur together and lose value by virtue of being part of an endless collection? What emerges here is private art, privately owned and used to flaunt one's wealth, available now to the masses to look at, but not to touch.

My second art related foray took place on Tuesday, March 17ith. I am the newest member of a local group called Sculpture Jammers. Each October the group produces a free week-end community art experience. They meet throughout the year to plan the activity and to enjoy art related outings and workshops. The Tuesday outing was to John Lewis Glass, a studio in Oakland, California. Their facility is warehouse massive. While there, I saw liquid glass, made from specially selected components, being poured from a second story furnace into a mold that was on the ground floor and directly under an opening from the furnace. The furnace burns 24/7/365. After the mold was filled, the production team carefully put a top on it, then slid the topped mold into an annealing oven. This mold was a negative
cast of a letter, approximately 5 feet high and three feet wide, that will be used in an architectural project in Texas. The studio
produces both functional and decorative items, though all items contain both elements to varying degrees.





The third outing that can be loosely considered to be art related will take place on Saturday or Sunday if the weather and my energy level cooperate. This is the San Francisco Flower and Garden Show. The producer of this event plans to retire this year. Unless a new sponsor comes forth, this might be the last year that it takes place. I haven't previously attended this show and find myself compelled to do so by the sense of now-or-never.

It is 1:43 a.m. I had planned to write a bit more about the flower show and then brilliantly wrap this all up with some reflections about creativity and art in its various guises. This could have been a pretentious reach or an entertaining journey of the mind. Right now I'm too sleepy for either. I'll most likely have moved on to other things by the time I'm ready to post again sooo - with visions of Tom Sawyer and the partially painted fence - I invite you to offer your own reflections. As for me, it's pillow time.