CookePapercutting

A few years ago I started to cut paper more regularly, completely out of the blue.  Completely out of character, I mentioned this to a coworker and friend who, by a bizarre stroke of luck, heard from the “art show ladies” that one of their scheduled artists had canceled without much notice and they needed someone to fill their slot.  That is how my first solo show came to be.  I had barely any work and only about 3 months to prepare. Flash forward two years, the new team running the art show had heard about the success of my first show and called on me when yet another artist had cancelled their show.  Very odd, very exciting.

I would never have expected to be someone to generate buzz, but somehow it happened.  The turn out was excellent, the sales were phenomenal, and I received some of the best feed back an “artist” could ask for, the top of the list being the general consensus that my new collection showed growth. About a week before I hung the show, not seeing the whole body of work, I wondered if it would.  A glass of wine after a long day had been my relief until that moment. It was uphill from there.

I hung about 40-44 pieces (including several Not For Sale) and I sold about 30 by the time the show came down.  As with the previous show and probably ever one I will ever hang, there was no overarching theme, no central message,  just a random collection of cuttings that came from every which way. Thirty pieces are shown below.

 

 

I love this piece. I love it for its stark contrasts, its simplicity and movement, and it’s simple frame. Had I thought more about it, and I thought a bit, I might have over-complicated it. I’m pretty particular about each work being one piece, everything connected (if even by a thread), but this is one of those rare instances where I felt the individual cuttings did not need a unifying paper trail.

This is also one of those rare instances in which the idea in my head translates perfectly into a finished work. I flew through my four phases with this piece. It was fully fleshed out in my head, I drew it on paper as well as my skill set would allow, I cut each piece in peace, and the framing process was relatively painless,(which is to say I re-cut a section and cried only once); despite framing down to the wire with only an hour before the solo show opened.

My mom did make the startling realization that there were 11 drummers drumming right before we started framing. The beauty of this craft is that you often have the ability to make a creative fix instead of starting over. If you look carefully at the drum line, somewhere in the middle is the runt, kid-brother of the pack, cut from the extra large sleeve of the drummer behind him. He is my favorite, I imagine he is a child progeny.

The Twelve Days of Christmas is cut from black silhouette paper. It is affixed to acid free white mat board.  The detail strips are cut from handmade gold paper (not my hands).  It hung at my solo show at Waverly Heights in December 2014, the Gladwyne Library League Art show in March 2015, and is currently at my solo show at Cathedral Village. One of these days I will remember to photograph a piece in it’s entirety before it is under glass.

Making a complete piece of art, for me, is a four step process (give or take).  When I say complete piece I mean something I would be willing to either sell or hang on my own wall; this doesn’t count the dozens of half-finished, slightly mangled pieces I have hidden away in my art storage areas (aka my coffee table, etc.).

It’s toss up as to whether the first or second step is the hardest for me.  At any given time I have a to-do list of about 30+ ideas to put on paper.  Picking a an idea and sticking with it through fruition is always a challenge. Choosing the subject of the piece is either simple (then made difficult by indecision), or difficult (because I spend time worrying about the second part): drawing. My drawing skill is fair, but I’m always concerned with my ability to represent what is in my head.  The drawing process is made more complicated when you consider that whatever I am drawing will be reversed when I flip the paper over.  If conceptualizing that is too much for me I will sketch my piece out on tracing paper and transfer it too the paper I’ll be cutting on.  Drawing the piece takes a long time, but I am constantly trying to take short cuts by cutting before the drawing is complete. Ninety-nine percent of the time this a mistake.

When my drawing is ready the cutting begins. This is my favorite part (obviously).  Even when mistakes are made, I still love the feeling of progress through a piece.  I do have a “4 mistakes rule = time to rest” rule, however.

The final and very involved step is the framing process.  I am very lucky to have a framing studio of sorts in my parent’s basement (where I do not live).  This is where all my frames and materials live. I’d love to say I finish a piece, pop over to the “studio,” pick a backing, and toss it in a frame.  That is so rare.  I usually struggle to find the proper frame because choosing one before I draw and cut never works out for me. I consider the backing (which can consist of several layers), matting, and framing to be an integral part of the work.  It cannot be reframed or reimagined, in my opinion. This is a process that can take hours, maybe days, for one piece.  I’m lucky to have processional “opinionaters” in my husband, dad, and whoever might swing by. My mom who bears with me, assists my through the last step of the four-part process, and puts in the final nails, is an integral player.

Below are some “in the works” pictures of pieces already assembled, shown, and sold.

 

 

I very rarely cut anything that does not remain one piece. Everything is always connected, if even by a thread, so to speak. Even less frequently will I cut symmetric pieces, pieces cut from folded paper. One constant exception are my butterflies. Each butterfly is one piece, but they are usually grouped into collections, and they are always displayed in shadowboxes. Everywhere I go I keep my eye out for interesting or unusual shadowboxes. I love cutting them, and because I am constantly doodling them onto silhouette paper I always have them on hand to cut when I am between work. If I stop because I’m lost in a piece, too distracted, or just taking a break, I will cut butterflies. I have a small stuck of folded silhouette paper on my desk at all times.

“The Collector” was submitted, awarded a ribbon, and purchased at the Gladwyne Library League’s Annual Arts & Crafts show. It’s been through a lot.

One of the reasons I didn’t always enjoy art class was that making art on demand was very difficult for me.  It seemed to sap the joy from the process.  I never imagined I would be able to create art for a living, and while that might still be a far off option, it’s closer than I thought…. but art on demand will always be a part of that.  I was very, very nervous when I accepted my first commissions.  I was eager to, but doubtful I would be successful.  Thankfully, I proved myself wrong, and have since (for the most part) gotten over my fear.

It’s rearing it’s ugly head now that I have a full plate along with a looming show, but I’m trying to take it in stride.  I know this is a very good problem to have.

Before Discourse, I had my first solo show at the retirement community where I work.  A retirement community might not be the first venue to come to mind when you are considering shows, but it’s actually a really interesting choice.  I was especially lucky to show in a place in which I have come to be friendly with so many interesting people. It felt to me like my show opening was attended by 4 to 5 dozen of my biggest supporters.  It was a lovely feeling.  If you aren’t working in the retirement community circuit, it’s still a wonderful choice if they have the right venue.  You’re showing your work with an almost guaranteed audience as it takes place in their home, and more than likely to a group of interesting and cultured people.  When someone who has been collecting or admiring art for the better part of their long life pays you a compliment, you can accept it with pride and know that it is genuine.  It was an honor to have my first show at this community, during which I sold about 20 pieces, and an even bigger honor to be welcomed back only to sell 29 pieces (and obtain over 8 direct commissions).

Below are a selections from my first solo show. Please excuse the picture quality, some were taken before framing, some under glass, and all were taken by me (not my #1 skill). There were about 44 pieces displayed in the show.

According to my husband, Brian, he wanted to buy the above piece (“Ship to Shore”) from my first show before we were even dating. It’s hanging in our apartment now. Couldn’t have picked a better place for it!

 

My faces later became the focus of my largest (and most complicated) piece to date.  I credit my good friend, Lawren Alice, of Arch Enemy Arts in Olde City, Philadelphia, with inspiring me (forcing me) to submit something to a group show several years ago.  The theme of the show was “Apocalypse.”

I later entered it in the Maryland Federation of Art’s Annual “Art on Paper” show at the Circle Gallery in Annapolis, MD.  There about 1300 entries for this show and only about 75 artists were selected. The juror for that particular show is the Curator of Fine Art Prints at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C., and as if it wasn’t exciting enough just to meet her, she was so impressed with my “extraordinary work” that she asked me to say a few words about it to the gallery crowd.  I spent the next 20 minutes silently melting down in preparation. I was 30% committed to asking her if there were “take backs” on the talking portion of the afternoon.  After I discovered an admirer of my work was filling everyone in on the beauty of laser cutting I decided “saying a few words” was a non-negotiable. I led with explaining that Discourse was free cut, by hand, and the rest of my few minutes was a response to the question I receive most about this piece: what is in the background?

When I was about to submit my piece to Arch Enemy Arts, Lawren asked me that same question. When I told her it was decorative paper I purchased from a craft store, she said in no uncertain terms that it would be a huge mistake for me to submit original work using that material. Possessing little experience of gallery submissions I took her at her word.  I decided to distress paper using a variety of techniques.  When I was happy with the effect I used a quill pen and ink to write my own stories in my own writing.  For this piece and it’s Apocalyptic theme, I specifically wrote seven stories; one for each of the seven deadly sins. I tore the written pages into tiles and laid them beneath the cutting (in no particular order).  As people seem less inquisitive about the cutting as they do with the backing, I am eternally grateful for my friend’s good advice to make the backing something I could personally speak to and claim credit for.

I am very happy to have been able to show Discourse for the past few years as I am extremely proud of it.  It recently sold at my last solo show.  Relinquishing a prized work is made much easier when the buyer has such a deep appreciation for the work that no words are necessary in explaining what went into creating it.  I am immensely happy to know Discourse hangs in a place where it will be truly valued.  The buyer was nice enough to share his thoughts on the work and allow me to publish  them in this entry; they are printed below.

“I really had my eye on “Discourse,” because I felt it worked on so many levels (physical and intellectual). Most pieces that I purchase have a frame or matte that I don’t like, and I end up spending more time and money re-framing the piece. Not so with “Discourse”. I loved what Jessi did with the frame and placing the Seven Deadly Sins behind the cutwork. The juxtaposition of light and dark, along with the different textures of paper, emphasized the overall effect. I think the piece is visually stunning, but I also work in international relations, and I think it does a wonderful job capturing the struggles of different peoples and the “debates” raging around the world on so many issues.”

 

During our senior year in high school, students of the art classes had the option to display their collective works in a panel to be displayed in a hub on campus.  I didn’t have a single cutting, and I also didn’t have much of a collection to show. I didn’t use any particular medium so I focused instead on a theme.  I love depicting faces, I always have.  My panel wasn’t very good, but I had only that one interest (artistically) at the time, so that was it.

I picked up where I left off in high school, years later when I began paper cutting regularly. I haven’t recently cut much in this theme, but I think it’s fair to say it is one of my signatures (if I were to have one).  The faces I cut are free form, unplanned, and while they are made the same way, they are never the same.  They each have very different expressions and I like that they evolve natural as I go.  I usually start with a nose somewhere in the middle of my page and go from there.

I was cutting so intermittently that I stayed usually in the bounds of a few themes. I started with a lot of florals and hands because of how interesting the contrasts were to me. I was starting to play around with pattern and texture and that led me to Hens; because they are fantastic birds.

Before 2012 I had a very small body of work.  I played around with paper cutting but never committed to it as a “regular thing.”  Below are a few samples of what themes and strategies I started with.  I used the same #11 blades as I do now, but I am using medical scalpels in place of X-Acto brand. Most of the pieces below were cut before I graduated high school in 2003, and a few through college and just after (2003-2009).

The first two portraits were inspired by photographs of my parents. I wanted to reinterpret the photos but I didn’t have a strong relationship with an art medium in particular. My drawing was so-so, painting was worse. The shadows in the photos were so distinct that I wanted to focus on the shapes and contrasts more than anything else. Especially in the cutting of my mom, the idea was to imply that it was her. I don’t quite remember how I started paper cutting, but if I had pin it to one experience, this was probably it.