Jessica and I (and our friend Caitlyn) were invited to have a table at this yesterday’s Wayzgoose at the School of Visual Concepts in Seattle. We didn’t contribute a steamroller print this time, so it was fun to just be part of the audience outside, and enjoy the show! I love the sort of mischief that happens when a bunch of letterpress printers get together for a day.
Jessica and I are hard at work on the next Dead Feminist—I’m inking flowers and separating colors this week, and then we’ll be on press before you know it. Look for more in the coming weeks…
Note: this is an excerpt of the Wayzgoose post over on Chandler’s studio blog. You can read the full post about the event here.
Wayzgoose worked like a well-oiled machine this year—and that’s the way we like it. (Even if we were just a little extra tired afterward.)
Photo by Victoria Bjorklund
And it’s no wonder we were so tired. This year, we added something a little different to the mix—just like we did in 2011 in San Francisco. After Jessica inked up the block…
Photo by Victoria Bjorklund
…and the steamroller packed its punch…
Photo by Victoria Bjorklund
…I set up shop across the parking lot, adding a few hand-colored touches to the piece.
Here’s the finished product—and for those of you who don’t happen to live in T-town, I’ll need to provide a little back-story. You probably recognize the reference to Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, but there’s a second tribute to pop artist Andy Warhol, as well. And I’m not just talking about Venus herself—to whom Warhol did pay homage in 1984.
You see, over thirty years ago now, Warhol was one of several artists to propose a permanent public artwork to adorn the roof of the Tacoma Dome. Not only was his proposal rejected at the time, but the whole project resulted in an enormous backlash of public opinion, insurance nightmares and political in-fighting—which literally derailed the city’s entire public art program for nearly two decades afterward. Fast-forward to today: not only is our public art program back in the saddle and going strong, but now there’s a growing movement to put Warhol’s flower on the Dome after all—which, in fact, would be the world’s largest Warhol original.
Whom do we have to thank for both the…uh…Renaissance of our public art program, and the push to bring Warhol back? Our wonderful City Arts Administrator, Amy McBride (click to see her talk about the Warhol story)—who, incidentally, drove the steamroller that printed our Venus linocut on Sunday.
How’s that for coming full-circle, huh?
Many thanks to everyone who stopped by on Sunday, and to Amy and the Tacoma Arts Commission for continuing to make art happen—both for Wayzgoose and for Tacoma.
This has not been an easy post to write—and yet in a way it’s been writing itself over and over again, for years now. To be honest, Jessica and I designed this broadside months ago, and planned to release it shortly after last year’s theater shooting in Aurora, CO. Other projects got in the way, and then the 2012 election persuaded us to table the piece for the time being.
We should have known: until there’s serious change in our society, this subject will always be hatefully relevant.
So here we are again, on the heels of yet another rash of terrible violence. But this time feels different—not only because of the sheer horror of the Newtown tragedy, but because at last, our country is having the conversation it needs to have.
At the center of the debate is the precarious balance of right and responsibility—and here’s where I need to keep from shooting my mouth off. I’ve written and deleted a hundred sentences about Jessica’s and my personal thoughts on the subject—but I have a feeling you can already guess what they are. And we also recognize that our beliefs represent just one side of our divided culture. So the thought of pontificating just wearies and saddens us; we’d much rather focus on how we might move forward, together.
For us, that meant starting with an attempt to comprehend the other side of the debate. So in hoping to understand the love of guns many in our country share, we looked to legendary sharpshooter Annie Oakley, whose words pierce the heart of the matter:
Aim at a high mark, work for the future.
This piece is a stark, steely contrast to the bright colors and detailed embellishments of the rest of the series. Annie stands her ground beside a blazing metallic bullseye, representing the golden target of sanity amid the scatter-shot opinions and half-cocked sniping of those on the extremist fringes. And let me tell you: there’s real gold in that ink. Jessica mixes her own formula—maybe it’ll shine all the brighter, and help steady our collective aim.
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Gun Shy: No. 17 in the Dead Feminists series
Edition size: 151
Poster size: 10 x 18 inches
Printed on an antique Vandercook Universal One press, on archival, 100% rag (cotton) paper. Each piece is numbered and signed by both artists.
The edition number we choose for each print in our series is always significant in some way—whether we call attention to it or not. In the case of Gun Shy, we’ve created an edition of 151 prints to represent each person injured or killed in a shooting rampage in 2012. In light of that sobering number, we’ve chosen to donate a portion of our proceeds to Demand A Plan. A campaign of Mayors Against Illegal Guns, Demand a Plan is a national, bipartisan coalition working to make America’s communities safer by keeping illegal guns out of dangerous hands.
Colophon reads:
Annie Oakley (1860 – 1926) was born Phoebe Ann Mosey (or Moses) near Greenville, Ohio. Her Quaker parents raised seven children on their farm until Annie’s father was caught in a blizzard and succumbed to pneumonia. By age ten, Annie was sent to the poor farm, then to live with an abusive family for several years. She escaped back to her mother’s home, taught herself to shoot a rifle, and quickly paid off their mortgage by selling game. In 1875 Annie defeated well-known marksman Frank Butler in a shooting contest — and married him shortly afterward. Annie became Butler’s assistant in his sharp shooting show, but as audiences clearly preferred Annie, the two soon switched roles. Annie was a curiosity, dressed in a homemade costume that modestly covered her petite frame but also allowed her to shoot with athletic grace. The couple joined Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West show, where Annie performed for 17 years, traveling to New York, Paris and London. Upon seeing her shoot the wick off a burning candle, the famous Chief Sitting Bull adopted Annie, bestowing the nickname “Watanya Cicilla” (Little Sure-Shot). In 1894 Thomas Edison captured her performance on film at his studio in New Jersey, making her the first cowgirl to appear in a motion picture.
Despite not being from the West, Annie defined our notion of a cowgirl as a self-reliant, strong woman. She advocated for equal pay, and went to great lengths to defend her reputation. She challenged William Randolph Hearst in a series of libel lawsuits over a false newspaper story, winning 54 of 55 cases at great personal expense. After her retirement in 1913, Annie continued to tour the country, teaching over 15,000 women how to use firearms responsibly.
Illustrated by Chandler O’Leary and printed by Jessica Spring, demanding that our federal government enact strict controls to end gun violence.
UPDATE: poster is sold out. Reproduction postcards available in the shop!
Right now I’m in California, manning my table and representing the Dead Feminists at the Codex Book Fair. But I have to say, it’s a little hard to concentrate.
I mean, not only am I surrounded by incredible work by a couple hundred artists—but just look at this space! We’re in a new venue this year, and it is absolutely spectacular.
Plus, we’re literally right on the water (really—the pavilion sits right on a pier), so as if all the artwork here weren’t distraction enough, all anyone has to do is just gaze out the window.
Now, it’s a good thing my studio isn’t in a place like this—I don’t think I’d ever get any work done!
If you have any sort of link to the outside world (television, radio, internet access, newspaper, mailbox), chances are you’ve been unable to escape this year’s deluge of advertising, chatter and glossy-printed recycling fodder—all centered around this coming Tuesday. It’s enough to have even four-year-olds throwing up their hands in frustration. Jessica and I, however, have spent many hours sifting through election material—1972 election material, I mean. To remind us of what’s really important this year (and every year), we turned to the woman who help paved the way for our current President.
The one thing you’ve got going: your one vote. —Shirley Chisholm
Shirley Chisholm was one of fifteen Presidential candidates in 1972. It was a volatile time: the Vietnam War was the center of public discord; movements for civil rights and gender equality were major issues around the western world; and the campaign came on the heels of the 1968 race—one of the bloodiest election years in American history.
Shirley knew she was a long shot; she even referred to herself as “literally and figuratively the dark horse.” Yet she also knew that to run for President, all that was required was to be a natural-born U.S. citizen of at least 35 years of age. There was nothing in there about being male or Caucasian—and as a member of the U.S. House of Representatives, she was at least as qualified as her fellow candidates. So she ran, because it was her right, and because she knew that if she played it smart and started winning delegates, she’d have some power to leverage.
Shirley sought to create a truly representative government. Rather than a cookie-cutter set of interchangeable politicians running the country, she envisioned an America where each region, economic sector and ethnic group elected one of its own to office. She wanted to see a woman heading the Department of Education & Welfare; a Native American in charge of the Department of the Interior. And as a freshman Congresswoman she was assigned to the House Forestry Committee but refused to serve—how would forest stewardship or agricultural bills represent New York’s inner-city 12th Congressional District?
She also saw her office as an opportunity to encourage women—especially women of color—to get involved in politics. Every member of her staff was a woman, half of them African-American. To say the least, her very presence made her fellow legislators nervous—and on top of everything else, she was probably the only woman of color in the whole country who made the exact same salary as her white male colleagues. (Heck, for people like Yvette Clarke or Barbara Lee, that’s probably still true for the most part. How depressing is that?)
On the national political stage, however, her race and gender were two strikes against her. She gathered support from the National Organization for Women, but when the time came for NOW to officially endorse a candidate, their squeamishness over the possibility of a Black nominee overcame their lip service. And the Black Congressional Caucus, of which Shirley was a founding member, threw her under a bus because they couldn’t bring themselves to support a female candidate. To me, that’s the most interesting thing—Shirley Chisholm always said she faced far more discrimination over her gender than the color of her skin.
Still, though she had to battle opposition and prejudice from all sides, she worked to bring people of all stripes together. When her opponent George Wallace (yes, that George Wallace—Mr. “Segregation Now, Segregation Tomorrow, Segregation Forever”) was wounded in an assassination attempt, Shirley visited him in the hospital. They were the ultimate Odd Couple: years later Wallace used his clout among Southern congressmen to help Shirley pass a bill giving domestic workers the right to a minimum wage.
In the end, though she gathered 152 delegates, she knew she’d never snag the Democratic nomination. So she conceded to George McGovern—who went on to win just one state (Massachusetts) in the 1972 Presidential election. Take a look at the electoral college map for that year:
That’s a whole lotta red.
And since this election season marks the fourth anniversary of our series, that map was the starting point for Keep the Change, our new broadside. I redrew the map in blue, and from there we crafted a period homage to Shirley’s impeccable style and substance.
The 12th Congressional District was one of the areas hardest hit last week by Hurricane Sandy. While the immediate recovery efforts in the city are crucial, we also recognize the importance of serving a community long after the disaster relief efforts have ended. So to help continue Shirley’s long-term service to her home city, we’ll be donating a portion of our proceeds to Bedford Stuyvesant Restoration, the nation’s first non-profit community development corporation. Restoration partners with residents and businesses to improve the quality of life of Central Brooklyn by fostering economic self sufficiency, enhancing family stability, promoting the arts and culture and transforming the neighborhood into a safe, vibrant place to live and work.
In the meantime, let’s do what Shirley did best—cast our vote, and keep fighting the good fight.
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Keep the Change: No. 16 in the Dead Feminists series
Edition size: 152
Poster size: 10 x 18 inches
Printed on an antique Vandercook Universal One press, on archival, 100% rag (cotton) paper. Each piece is numbered and signed by both artists.
Colophon reads:
Shirley Anita St. Hill Chisholm (1924–2005) was born in Bedford-Stuyvesant, New York — though she spent her early years growing up in Barbados with her grandmother and younger sisters. She earned a master’s degree from Columbia University and moved on to teach, becoming an authority on early education. After working as a consultant to the Bureau of Child Welfare, Chisholm won a seat in the New York State Assembly in 1964. She ran for the House of Representatives in 1968 under the slogan “Unbought and Unbossed,” and was the first African-American woman elected to Congress. As a junior member, she was assigned to the House Forestry Committee but demanded reassignment on the grounds that she couldn’t effectively represent her inner-city constituency. A founding member of the Congressional Black Caucus, she served seven terms in Congress.
In 1972 Chisholm ran for U.S. President, the first woman and African American on a major party ticket. She fiercely supported the rights of women and people of color, and opposed the Vietnam War. She was “literally and figuratively the dark horse”— women voters limited their support based on race, and the Congressional Black Caucus backed off because of her gender. Though she didn’t win a single primary, she proved “a catalyst for change,” gathering 152 delegates and demonstrating that women could compete nationally. Chisholm ended her campaign at the Convention, releasing her delegates to George McGovern — who lost in a landslide to Richard Nixon.
Illustrated by Chandler O’Leary and printed by Jessica Spring. Please vote to keep women moving forward.
UPDATE: poster is sold out. Reproduction postcards available in the shop!
Our pencils are sharp, and our presses are fired up. Jessica and I are churning out our next candidate for Dead Feminist, and she’ll be on the ballot next week. You can catch her online then, or if you’re local, see her first at this weekend’s Studio Tour. Whatever you do, don’t forget to cast your ballot on election day!
Since Jessica and I got back from teaching at the Penland School of Crafts, I’ve been struggling to put the experience into words. But no matter how I go on about how beautiful the Blue Ridge Mountains are; or how unique Penland’s creative culture is; or how amazingly talented each and every one of our students were; or how seriously delicious a hot bowl of cheese grits is after a walk in the chilly morning fog; or how many wonderful people we met; or how much we loved the challenge of basically teaching two classes in one intense week—well, I get a little incoherent. So I’ll let my sketchbook do the talking. (I kept a little notebook in my apron pocket all week, and every time I had a second to spare, I was scribbling away.)
In short: we can’t wait to go back. Huge thanks to the lovely folks at Penland for hosting us and creating such a wonderful place to learn and make things; to our seven fabulous students for their enthusiasm and willingness to dive right in; and to our angelic friend Mary-Alice for being the absolute hands-down best teaching assistant the world has ever seen. Hope to see y’all again soon!
All I can manage is a quick note today—because this is where I am right now … and this place has got me pretty speechless.
I’m here teaching with Jessica this week, with a studio full of smart, sassy, and seriously talented women.
The class has got us inspired to stay up late printing every night, but it’s hard to feel tired—
—when you’ve got this view waiting for you when you return to work every morning.
If you happen to live in Washington state, you can’t help but notice that love is in the air. It’s not quite what you think, though—rather than turtledoves and cupids flying around, the breeze is carrying ballot petitions and angry voices.
Though Washington became the seventh U.S. state to legalize same-sex marriage earlier this year, opponents forced a voter referendum to decide the issue this November. So while we’d rather just toast our friends and their families, we’ve got to put up our dukes first.
Already tempers are running high, and everyone seems to be up in arms—it’s total anarchy out there. So we thought, who better to talk to………… than an anarchist?
The most vital right is the right to love and be loved. —Emma Goldman
Huh. Pretty down-to-earth for an anarchist, actually. Especially if you consider some of the other things Emma’s said in the past.
I think that if we could somehow put all the ladies we’ve featured previously into a room together, they might end up killing each other (good thing they’re already dead, eh?). They all had such different ideologies and passions that I can’t imagine all fourteen of them agreeing on any one thing. But I’m fairly sure they’d be united over Emma—in thinking she was a complete weirdo, that is. (Sorry, Emma.)
Yet for all her outlandish creeds and fierce opinions, her thoughts on families, love and motherhood cut straight to the heart of the matter. And that’s what drew us to her.
To pay homage to Emma’s folksy words, we turned to folk art for inspiration. (Get out your grandma’s Pyrex and raise a glass!) Love Nest is dominated by a lively brood of nesting matryoshka dolls. Each individual is different, but together they complete the picture of a nurtured, multicolor family. Roosters, hens and chicks complete the flock waiting for the next generation to hatch as Emma’s words stitch the family together.
To support the diversity nested within every family, we’ll be donating a portion of the proceeds to both the Rainbow Center and Oasis Youth Center, right here in T-town. The Rainbow Center is dedicated to eliminating discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender. Oasis is a drop-in support center dedicated to the needs of GLBTQ youth ages 14-24.
Speaking of chickens, there’s another tribute hiding in here—a nod to the very first matryoshka doll ever made.
This might well be the most difficult piece we’ve tackled yet. Beyond the challenges of marrying (no pun intended) the views of a 19th-century fringe activist to modern-day social issues, we also had some seriously precarious business on the technical side. Those of you who are into the nitty gritty details of letterpress may know that each print color requires a separate plate, a separate pass on press. We’ve got four colors in the final result, but because of the tricky magic of translucent inks, there’s actually only three plates/three passes here. The red and teal mix to make brown—which means that the registration (alignment) of each plate had to match up just right.
I was expecting Jessica to throttle me when I showed her the color separations, but as usual, she barely even batted an eye: “Yeah, we can do that.”
Or maybe she just knows me so well now that she’s expecting the crazy.
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Love Nest: No. 15 in the Dead Feminists series
Edition size: 126
Poster size: 10 x 18 inches
Printed on an antique Vandercook Universal One press, on archival, 100% rag (cotton) paper. Each piece is numbered and signed by both artists.
Colophon reads:
Emma Goldman (1869 – 1940) was born in Kovno, part of the Russian Empire (now Lithuania). She moved to New York in 1885 to live with relatives, supporting herself with factory work. In the following year, news of the Chicago Haymarket riot changed Goldman’s life. In honor of the riot victims and the labor movement, she determined to “dedicate myself to the memory of my martyred comrades, to make their cause my own.” She joined Alexander Berkman—another Russian immigrant—in spreading her vision of an ideal society, based on the anarchist principle of absolute freedom. Goldman founded the political and literary journal “Mother Earth,” and toured the country speaking about anarchism, birth control and economic freedom for women. She was arrested numerous times over her unconventional opinions, accused of disseminating illegal information and inciting to riot.
At a time when even her fellow anarchists questioned her support of homosexuality, Goldman spoke out: “It is a tragedy, I feel, that people of different sexual type are caught in a world which shows so little understanding … and is so crassly indifferent to the various gradations and variations of gender.” She openly opposed U.S. entry into WWI, was jailed once more for obstruction of the draft, and finally deported back to Russia under the 1918 Alien Act. She spent the rest of her life in exile, supporting anarchist causes abroad. After her death, Goldman’s body was repatriated and buried in Chicago—near the Haymarket anarchists that had so inspired her.
Illustrated by Chandler O’Leary and printed by Jessica Spring, who with Goldman “demand freedom for both sexes, freedom of action, freedom in love and freedom in motherhood.”
UPDATE: poster is sold out. Reproduction postcards available in the shop!
