art institute

The Art Institute finished sorting through all the material that we donated to them a few months ago. Here it is in its new home in their temporary storage in South Chicago:

It will eventually make its way into flat files and more long term homes. The bulk of his archive is here and I was am pleased so much of it found a home together. I was surprised to see they kept a number of his art catalogs and publications. It turns out artists that he gathered catalogs from on his European trips were not represented in their collection.

 

I did need to sort through what was left and decide what to bring home.

In the center of this photo is what is coming home with us. I sorted the work in this warehouse space with the empty cases. The Lincolnwood houses (covered in an earlier post) are coming home with us, as well as a number of unbuilt designs for apartment buildings on trace, a couple renderings I did not see on my first run through, and some other houses I am not sure I caught in the inventory. Now I have two fat portfolios under our bed and a couple tubs of drawings...not bad. I definitely have some room for the Gute in my studio.

I had an epic drive home because of terrible traffic, so I took Chicago's westernmost  Boulevards north through six glorious parks. I am in love with this city. So much so that I persist in driving down there. Once I get my new bike, watch out: I'll be gone all day.

tomato farm next summer

Here is our new white roof. Yup, we'll need sunglasses up there! But I think things that like heat will grow like gangbusters. We'll have to see what the roof can handle. After nine months with a leaky roof, it is such a good feeling to see this new one go on.

the roof

One of the many reasons that we hired Wilkinson Blender Architects is their inclination to do roof gardens wherever possible. Our house had a pull down stair that accessed the roof, but not much going on up there. There was once an outdoor shower, and the architect envisioned much more. In this drawing from 1957 you can see the angled 'dog house' as a triangular wedge. It held the ceiling height for the stair going up, and then there was some kind shelter when the house was complete (you can see that in the image in the banner on this blog).

We are making the stair a permanent stair and adding a little bit of a room and deck up there. The intention stated for permit is access and storage for roof maintenance (our air conditioners will be up there) but we are squeezing in a little more function: a small place to work for Reed and a small deck to sit on. Over the course of a couple very rainy weeks, the carpenters have created the opening and built the shelter. From the inside, I had not anticipated that it would act like a new skylight.

This wall will be all bookshelves, as high and as wide as we can reach. The stair will be a 'secret' stair. You won't see when you look at it from a right angle but it will appear when you turn to head upwards. I can't find any of the renderings the architects sent, but here is the inspiration image that they passed on.

Here's a shot of the interior of the penthouse, with Greg, our architect/GC checking out the view from Reed's desk.

 

And here is a view from the across the street. Here is the old doghouse for comparison:

The new roof is going on this week. It will be white material, as opposed to the black composition material that is on there now. It did occur to us that we will need sunglasses on a bright day up there. Maybe we will eventually cover it up with photovoltaic panels! or sedum trays! we'll see what the roof can hold and what the budget and climate will allow once we are all moved in.

a new archive

I thought I would write a bit about my new archive, the Chicago Artists Archive. I have a show in September and October of 2010 at the Harold Washington Center of the Chicago Public Library. Artists who show at the library are included in an archive of over 9000 Chicagoland artists that is held and maintained in the Visual and Performing Arts Library.

October is Chicago Artists Month, and the theme is the City as Studio. Chicago has been having a year long dialog about the artist studio in all its forms. Since I have been studio-less and have been working with archives all year, I thought I should treat the library as my studio and use it as a place to make my work. I am reviewing the entire artist archive while I make work for the show. So far I have reviewed A-C and gotten through 2 of the twelve file drawers of archival material.

Part of me wonders at myself, driving into the city to sit in the library, alone, looking through drawers and drawers of artist materials mostly from 1940-2000. I mean really: I spent my fall, alone, in a cold studio going through each page of one architect's projects and papers from 1950-1990. Why not go out and meet real live artists? I am much more inclined to the former, and I have always struggled with that. I love that I can sit and look through materials during the day while my kids are at school. I get to mull over the rich lives of hundreds of local people. I am getting an education in Chicago art history. And if I don't do it now, I will never take the time to do it. Hooray for sabbaticals!

The archive covers artists well known and not so. Faculty from all the local universities and art schools are represented, as well as every variety of sculptor, painter, printmaker, community activist, artist-run gallery, and artist working out in the suburbs. I am, of course, particularly drawn to the latter. Artists who grew up in Chicago and worked elsewhere are included (like Judy Chicago) and artists who moved to Chicago and work here now are included as well. Some artists built themselves into the archive with exhaustive letters and documentation they sent to the librarian/curators. Other artists are included unbeknownst to them, via all kinds of coverage in the local press, from reviews to obituaries.

Am I looking for anything in particular? Yes and no. I am looking at the whole archive because I don't want to miss anyone. Ideas and history are everywhere. I am writing down fragments of artist statements and the names of artists whose work touches me. I am writing down recurring galleries and art critics who I want to trace through the archive and through time. And I am writing down adjacencies: when the juxtaposition of two artists is poignant and the only reason for their relationship is that their last names are similar or the same.

I grapple with a fear of failing at my own artistic endeavor: not working hard enough, or publicly enough, or honestly enough. When I sit down at the archive, at first I feel heavy with the burden of so many artists represented by a single piece of writing or photograph of their work. But then I keep reading and see signs of each artist working with clear intention and purpose. Why do we do it? Because we can, and we are driven to, and it helps keep us fulfilled. And why do librarians, archivists, and art lovers adopt our things and our narrative and attend to them? That is one question guiding the drawings I am making.

Are there lessons in the archive? One for sure: keep making beautiful printed ephemera and send it to people who are thoughtful savers. Otherwise archivists print out ugly website versions of your show announcements on archival paper and THAT is your legacy. Shiver.