This is something I have been considering now for quite a while, in the interest of providing an answer to the question, "What makes beadweaving something that belongs at the Minnesota State Fair Fine Arts exhibit?" I have a creepy feeling that it will come up during my day at the fair. How in the world to answer???
What is art? Who says? I have decided it is much too big a question for one little beader to take on. But some of my work does manage to get into this gallery, so if I will be asked to say why that happens, I think the only reasonable answer is to explain my process and show my results and let people draw their own conclusions. Art and its appreciation is a very subjective business. But if I had to put it in simple words that have meaning for me, I think that inspiration and purpose have something to do with it. And maybe a dash of alchemy. The idea that art is somehow greater than the sum of its parts.

I want to write briefly about Battle of the Beadsmith, now that my battle is over. I want to share some of the process photos that I was not allowed to share during battle. I do this partly for readers, who might have an interest in design process, and partly for myself, in the interest of being able to remember what decisions were made and why. As you may know, I wanted to express in this work the beauty of a clear, crisp late fall (or maybe early winter) day at a marsh near my home. I collected weeds and seed pods and fuzzy seed heads from that day, and then began collecting beads to use.

I had a easy time of finding beads to love, and in retrospect wish I had used a wider range of what I found, as I suspect some of my detail was less visible than I might have preferred. I knew I needed a restrained pallette, as I wanted the ombre of colors I was imagining to be the focus of the piece, the faded green seed heads and coppery leaves, against the clear blue sky and darker water, but I could have used the matte beads I put away to good advantage, in retrospect.
On the other hand, I am glad I put away all the flowers and leaves I collected. Although my piece is titled "September Song" the time of year was late November, and there was nothing in bloom, all was bare, and the beauty was clean and simple.
It was also easy to put away the sparkly bits I collected in favor of the matte polished cabs in Citron Chrysoprase, Variscite, and Turquoise, (both stabilized and not) because they better portrayed the earthy groundedness, and simple beauty that I wanted the work to convey. I began as I often like to do, by capturing my treasures in bezels, to give myself time to get to know them and to begin to play with layouts.
I made a few drawings, and finally had a general idea of the over-all shape I wanted to use to try to express the bare-bones emptiness of the day. I wanted clean, delicate shapes; almost silhouettes, like leafless trees. I was influenced by the shapes in a piece of lace, and the embellishment on a gown I was workinng on at the time, and these curves found their way up the stairs to my beading bench. Sometimes, I do not know whether my costumes influence my beadwork or vice versa.
Then I tried to figure out a means to connect my components into the simple clean shapes I wanted. I tried several different connections of small sections of the whole and finaly found one that really held its shape but was still supple and flexible with nice drape.
The left side chunk was both wobbly and thick, one of my early efforts. The right side version was my final one, compact, stable, and drapey, and works on the principle of keystoned arches, with thread paths reaching far into each bezel for structural support. I assembled this piece in small sections to make it easier to work on, and below you see them all pinned in place on my neck form.
Once I had my primary shapes established, I embellished each individual chunk of the shape with tiny representations of the bronzy leaves, clinging berries, exposed thorns, and seed pods and heads. This was where I could have used those matte beads, to separate my embellishment from my framework, and make is visible, without being distracting. You can see it all below, especially if you compare it to the un-embellished version above, but it blends in so well that unless you know it is there, I think it is pretty miss-able.

Finally, it was time to design a neckstrap, or "yoke" as Warren Feld refers to it. I wanted the yoke to represent the day as well; shapes and lines in sympathy to the focal piece, but in contrast as well, in the interest of the work not being all one idea; a symphony, rather than just melody repeating endlessly. I looked at fall imagery and found spider webs I loved, and began to work out how that idea might be integrated into the work as a yoke. I also added a web to the center of the work, to further integrate the two separate ideas and to control the relationship between shapes at the bottom of the necklace structurally.
Then, since I do my own photography, I set out to take battle shots, which was a substantial challenge! Since the piece was about the beauty of maturity, I wanted to use women with a beautiful maturity of their own to model the work. I am very fortunate to have friends who are willing to generously share their time with me. I first did a session with Donna, and made an unfortunate choice in clothing. The color of this dress looked great with the necklace, but it was overwhelming to the delicate color of the work and make my camera sensors go entrely wacko.
Subtle color? Where??? So since Donna was traveling, I called Cathy, and she rushed to my rescue. I was super pleased with the results!
I am not a very good photographer, and although I can get camera settings more or less correct, it takes me lots of trying and thinking to get what I am aiming for in terms of imagery. I do not visualize photographic images well, so I can arrange and shoot them. I just have to open my shutter hundreds of times until what I had in mind magically appears. But having pretty friends REALLY helps! They never look bad, so all I have to worry about is the camera, location, and jewerly.
I shot with Donna one more time too, and got several things I really liked, and these two, my favorites.
So, there, I have talked about process and preserved the ideas and images I wanted to preserve.
Is it art? I have no clue. Could I have gotten it into the gallery at the fair? Again, no idea. I think it depends on who the judges are each year. Some are sympathetic to beadweaving, and perhaps, some not. Or perhaps some are moved by certain kinds of work and aesthetics, and some by others. I choose to believe that any given media or theory of beauty is not an instant disqualification. But it never hurts to try, and in the Battle of the Beadsmith, it is always a growth experinece. Unless you take rejection personally. And in that respect, I am thankful for a background in theater. You go to an audition. You try out for a role. You are exactly what the director and producers were looking for, or you are not. But not being their vision of a role does not stop you from being an actress.
With respect to BotB, first and foremost, I was glad for the opportunity to make something that I might not ordinarily tackle, since it is not really something I will be wearing daily, or likely to sell. I was glad to be invited to submit work to this invitational tournament. I do not mind falling in battle. I love having the opportunity to see so much wonderful beadwork, some of which is certainly imbued with the alchemical magic that makes it more than the components it is created from, and full of life. Maybe even... art. What do you think? Do you have a BotB'13 favorite? What makes it art for you?