Droplets Exhibition Checklist 2020

Books started with 36 pages plus cover, 7.5 x 7.5 inches, $250.00 each.

Caroline Bagenal
Suture
paper, thread
In response to the pandemic this book uses stitching to address healing and repair.
John Beckwith
8/21/20
mixed media
Life sucks
You die
Always remember
Never forgot
Margaret Bellafiore
Viral
tempura, tracing paper
I was interested in the shape of the covid-19 virus and made a stencil. This led to my repeating the image on each page to represent the build up of the pandemic. I printed quotes from news sources on tracing paper to chronicle what appears to be a nation wide catastrophe that could have largely been prevented.
Susan Jane Belton
Caution
watercolor
It is quiet, seemingly normal, but empty and hazardous.
Linda Binder
Masks
collage
The form I used is the shape of a mask)s), that we have all become accustomed to wearing during these uncertain times, 2020.
Judith Brassard Brown
Just Breathe
pastel, pencil, charcoal, various papers
Geoff Burley
Letters in Passing
calligraphy, pens, markers, washi tape
Enclosed are letters directed to people I think of infrequently, but do not have contact with. In reading them, the audience gets a somewhat vague memoir of a person they don’t know via correspondence with individuals the person no longer knows. As the decision to open the letters or leave them sealed is a central conceit to the project that cannot be easily reset. I kindly ask that the passerby leave the tape on the letters sealed for the buyer.
Lauren Byrne
More Fragile Than I Thought
collage
With thanks to Philip Gerstein.
Source material: Art Forum International (April 2008
Dorothea Van Camp
Don’t / Stop
screen print, graphite, spray paint, oil, aniline dye, polycrylic
Don’t
...leave home without your mask...greet anyone with a hug...forget to wash your hands...eat out in restaurants...go to the print studio...go to work...play tennis at the BAC...have an opening...go to the coffee shop...work in an office.
My book reveals a central theme of my work for the past 15 years in the context of our current predicament. Breathing, not breathing, and sometimes thin distance between the two.
Joe Caruso
Café Tango
photography, flow pen
Unable to dance tango at milongas during the covid-19 pandemic, a small group of Boston tango dancers, including myself, have been meeting each week since early April to maintain our relationships, share life during the pandemic, and sharpen our sensitivity to tango moves and music by looking closely at professional dancers performing on YouTube videos. We call our get togethers, Café Tango.
I think of a droplet, the theme of this exhibition, as a simple lens and magnifier. During our virtual meetings, it became clear to me, that one milonguera friend, Ana, born in Argentina, was particularly animated and expressive when sharing her thoughts. Peering through a droplet at my computer screen, I noticed the non-verbal aspects of her communication in a way that I had not during in person conversations.
I decided to photograph Ana making contributions to our discussions as I believe that the photos enable us to see how non-verbal expressions really enhance our ability to get our messages across. This booklet also serves to document our weekly meetings in a modest way.
Lys DelCampo
Stream of Consciousness
mixed media
This book started out as a compilation of ideas, but slowly became a compilation of anxieties and reassurances that were a direct result of the pandemic.
Susan Denniston
Beyond Now
graphite, thread, tape, acrylic
Sewing machine and mask patterns,
needle and thread.
The tracing wheel transcribes a boundary,
a black hole opens.
The dark, the light, the trouble, the last words.
All mothers were summoned.
Susan Denniston
Rough Wave
graphite, thread, acrylic
Sewing machine and mask,
needle and thread.
The tracing wheel transcribes a boundary,
a black hole opens.
The dark, the light, the trouble.
We ride a rough wave.
Fernanda Diaz
Book of Tammie
construction paper, oil pastels, colored pencils, watercolor, ink, textile
A narrative picture book with interactive pages that tell the creation of Tammie, an experimental bio-weapon created during the Cold War, Follow Tammie as she develops into the cute parasite we all know and love, and even get to meet her other microbe friends.
Laura Evans
Dispersion
India ink, roller ball pen
The drawings are a combination of abstract drippings and abstract drawings. Moving from micro to macro and back again. I tried to range from “dangerous + dark” to “hopeful” it’s a circle.
William Flynn
Fluidity
prints on paper
William Flynn
Crushed Gloves
prints on paper
William Flynn
Positive Negative
collage, colored pencil
Emma Gallant
Brain Mush
Posca pens, graphite, India ink, printer ink, digital illustration, watercolor, gouache, Sakura jelly roll pen
Brain Mush is a compilation of sketches, illustrations, and notes from 2016-2020, featuring pieces that I’m fond of, and that I believe encompass my “style” as an artist.
Philip Gerstein
Untitled
watercolor stick, watercolor, gouache
Philip Gerstein + Marsha Nouritza Odabashian
Collaboration
graphite (Marsha), watercolor stick, watercolor, gouache
Polly Giragosian
Materiality, Physicality, Connection to the Real
mixed media
Alex Gurney
Masked
acrylic, ink
In this sketchbook I’ve recorded a series of thoughts, feelings and concerns of living through a global pandemic. Along with comments overheard, things said to me, conversations I have heard or seen. Throughout the pandemic my main focus has become prioritizing mental health which plays a strong roll in the pages of this sketchbook. As much as we are “all in this together” I believe it’s important to recognize that everyone has had a different pandemic / quarantine experience.
Ric Haynes
Lost All The Way
decorative papers, ink, watercolor, watercolor papers, collage
I feel odd doing this because I do not or did not know what I was doing. Lost all the way.
Jeffrey Heyne
Blue Channel
dye
Submerged in the ocean for two days.
Dried in the sun for two days.
Dyed blue for one day.
Jane Hudson
A Few Thoughts
acrylic, Arteza brush pens
This booklet gave me the chance to play.
Deborah Kamy Hull
The Golden Book of Droplets
watercolor, acrylic paint, color pencil, Chinese funeral paper
Droplets: Tears, rain, blood, spit, aerosols, medicine.
Change is in the air.
Alexander Iverson
Contaminated Book
epoxy resin, book
A book contaminated by a cough, encased in resin.
Kimiko Johnson
Eve of Destruction
mixed media, collage
This is a collection of illustrations that explore the importance of our potential new reality. History will always repeat itself while nature never forgives. Human nature, however, will forever be at fault.
Jesse Kahn
AIDS Demographics
paper, thread
Masako Kamiya
Drawing Without Drawing Materials
papers and marks
Walter Kopec
Spread
ink
While sitting, waiting for time to move differently, more like real time... an attempt to ‘define’ these limiting squares of space with nothing more than pouring techniques, a few ‘drawn’ corona-like shapes and the chance meeting of color to color, little mettered in my decision making with the deliberate dropping of a color, the ink flowed, met and married, spread into that space where one watches, waiting for paint to dry.
Sarah Bodden Kopec
90 Shouldn’t Be Like This
vellum, paper, adhesive
In September 2019 my Mom’s first great grandchild was born. On December 21, 2019, my Mom moved into Assisted Living. In January 202, we celebrated her 90th birthday with our entire family at my sister’s home. On March 15, 2020, I visited my Mom in her apartment at her Assisted Living facility – and since that date, nobody has been able to visit her in her home. This is my attempt at capturing the vibrant woman my Mom has been for 90 years, overlain by her current reality. 2020 should have been a joyous year of experiencing her great grandson start his life, not a grim year of isolation from the people she loves.
Brian Littlefield
Lines
graphite
Nancy Maggs
COVID-19
adhesive vinyl, mixed media
When the shutdown of the city occurred, my bosses at the sign shop I work at had no choice but to lay everyone off, including themselves. We were deemed an “essential business,” making signs for Boston Medical Center so I was kept on as the sole employee. The first month I traveled a surreal path up and down Mass Avenue, back and forth to work on my bike, keeping the same hours I normally would work. Empty roads, empty sidewalks. An occasional car. Everyday felt like a holiday. And if I did see another person, I’d be sure to keep a distance, perhaps even holding my breath while passing. At the shop, I was alone but kept my days structured as usual: In at 8, lunch at 12:30, out the door at 5. I kept myself busy making literally thousands of “Social Distancing” signs, plus plenty of cleaning and reorganizing.
I was also sewing fabric face masks at home. Many, many fabric face masks. There was a shortage of elastic and bias tape for masks so I was forced to get creative while waiting for my back-ordered supplies by using torn t-shirt strips and ribbon for ties.
Other things that will not soon be forgotten: Lines at the grocery stores, shortages of toilet paper, bottled water, hand & surface sanitizers, personal protective equipment, frozen vegetables, flour and yeast.
The following pages contain the droplets of my last few months. Remember, we are not through this yet...
Dyan McClimon-Miller
Droplets
handmade papers, vellum, found objects
Quarantine, vulnerable, time lapse, compromised, uninspired, empathy
Emmett McDermott
And ...
mixed collage
Sure.
Dillian McGahey
Focus
gouache
John McVey
Special Problems
abrasured coated paper
ex Life Library of Photography
(Time-Life Books, New Your, 1971)
Elizabeth Michelman
Rules No Rules
mixed media
“The sun is but a morning star.” —Thoreau
Laurie Miles
Strings Attached
handmade paper, thread
The patterns in Strings Attached appear random, yet have been directly transcribed from vegetables through a process in my studio. Networks like this, even when not obvious, affirm our connections to each other on so many levels.
Sarah LL Milton
Private Property: Lanesville
etching ink, Sumi ink, colored pencil, graphite, paper, tape, oil paint
This book was created on one private property in Lanesville, MA. So private in fact, that the owners asked for the location not to be mentioned.
The drawings are quick recordings of the buildings, quarries and objects on the property.
Steven Muller
Spunk & Pee
mixed drawing media
I have a friend who believes that you should always close the toilet before you flush, airborne droplets!
Another friend who passed on sleeping with a lover due to the unknown. Here are some examples of past activities that are no longer safe to explore, as if they ever were.
Marsha Nouritza Odabashian
Lunar Flurries
graphite, ink, acrylic, glue, glassine
In ordinary times I create large paintings in an enormous studio in an old building in the South End of Boston. During the covid-19 pandemic, I have been drawing, painting, collaging and photographing from a small room and a porch in the outskirts of the city. My work involves sociopolitical themes derived from onionskin dye stains splashed onto canvas and paper.
The pandemic was upon us when the call for entries on the theme of droplets in booklets came from the HallSpace Drawing Project 2020. The watery nature of the theme appealed to me and my work shifted direction. I created Flurries a trilogy consisting of Nozzles, Moon Drops and Lunar Flurries. Ubiquitous in the media and in our lives, droplets are rarely noticeable except through a telescope, a microscope or a magnifying glass and when they form parabolas in the wake of water fountains, garden hosed and water pistols. On my daily walks I have become preoccupied with droplets spotted in morning dew, sun rays, moon dust, and crashing ocean waves. I fastidiously avoided droplets in the form of spittle, tears and blood out of fear that one might contain the dreaded red corona virus. This period of isolation has given me an opportunity to explore graphite, acrylic and ink in the creation of layers, transparency and movement of marks to evoke droplets: Ever present, fearsome, peaceful.
Marsha Nouritza Odabashian
Nozzles
graphite, ink, acrylic, glue, glassine
Marsha Nouritza Odabashian
Moon Drops
graphite, ink, acrylic, glue, glassine
Christine Palamidessi
Fucking the Devil
mixed media; inks, watercolor, pencil, thread, paper collage
Palamidessi is a visual artist and novelist living and working (mostly) in Boston area.
Christine Palamidessi
On The Face Of It In MMXX
mixed media; stamp printing, inks, watercolor, pencil, paper collage
Rebecca Pempek
Field Notes from Grief
watercolor, collage
Over the past five years, I’ve amassed a collection of ten sketchbooks. I consider these sketchbooks artifacts; characteristics of time’s past, directly reflecting my emotions, experiences, predilections, dislikes, questions, and observations at the time of creation. The sketchbook medium allows me to experiment with materials and ideas on a comfortable scale. The comfort has been critical to my practice this semester.
My most current sketchbook details my experience with grief following my grandmother’s lost battle with cancer. Her garden started blooming after she passed away. Every week I have been picking flowers from her garden and building bouquets. These bouquets line my window. Throughout the week, I watch the flowers flourish and then slowly wither. This process of decay resembles the deterioration of my grandmother’s condition. Using watercolor and mixed media collage, I capture the flower’s journey in my sketchbook. These renderings capture the complex and layered emotions I feel as I move through this grief and try to comprehend the destructiveness of cancer.
Gerry Perrino
The Humble Mask
A 21st Century Story Told with Toys
ink, watercolor
No weapon, no strength this virus will fear.
It cares not about pistols, the sword or the spear.
It dreads not the hammer, the dart or the ax.
Its Achilles heel is...the humble mask.
Szilvia Ponyiczki
Dreamscapes
mixed media, acrylics
The main aspects of my work is the exploration of the personal and the collective unconscious through art. To gain a deeper understanding of this world I approach it through the realm of dreams; by painting figurative dreamscapes or abstract dream-carpets; sometimes giving these a sculptural form. My aim is to incorporate the ways of the unconscious into my art processes, to build up a parallel world. During the course of transformation a new visual language is generated, having properties of its own. This is analogous to alchemy where from the source material (material prima) the healing Philosopher’s stone is created. I believe that this artistic method mirrors the individuation process.
Adriana G. Prat
Spreading: A Short Story (Drawing experiments in the time of the pandemic)
mixed media: acrylic, watercolor, water soluble crayons, acrylic pen, ink pen, oil pastel, Pan pastel, rice and oragami paper, canvas paper, BFK Rives paper, zipper
In a world filled with the illusion of happiness, the arrival of “the virus” puts our lives on pause, creating anxiety, fear and feelings of isolation, while the virus spreads like the wind. We know science and facts would prevail, but will they? This might only be the beginning...
Catalina Viejo Lopez de Roda
Droplets
acrylic
Ruth Rosner
Portals In The Time Of Corona/A Journey
photography, archival pigment prints, photo collage, photo manipulations, images of original sculptures and found objects, photos by Ruth Rosner ©2020
A visual narration of the ramblings of the mind, looking for portals – openings – into understanding, confronting, reinventing, transforming the world [in the spring and summer of 2020] as we never knew it before. A series of stage sets with sculptures by the artist as actors – all transformed by the mind’s eye of the artist and the mysteries of the iPhone. In a nutshell: Everything is closed off, terminated, shut down, beginning with something as small and intimate as the portals of the face. What was open is now masked. Entry is verboten. Free passage constrained, restricted, inhibited, interrupted, obstructed, prevented, suppressed. This is a visual attempt to describe, mourn, protest, repair, and transcend. Note: For the post-pandemic future: Sketches for possible installation(s).
Jo Ann Rothschild
Hope For The Future
watercolor, ink, collage, graphite, acrylic, vellum, tracing paper, postcards, crayon, colored pencil
I used this book to record how I felt on any given day – sometimes dated, mostly not. Usually a double spread a day. Went in with trepidation – because of now (politics-virus). Came out with less grimness.
Jessica Saab
Strange Little Excerpts
mixed media, collage, ink, acrylic
Vivid dreams occur as a result of stress and anxiety. It’s something that’s grown more widespread over the course of the pandemic. This book is a log of my own surreal experiences.
John Schulz
For The Way You Want To Live Today
collage
Robert Siegelman
My Life Without God
collage
Kathy Soles
July 2020, Daily Diary
gouache, watercolor pencil, collaged paper, glue
Initially conceived as a drawing/sketching exercise, the images soon gave way to cutting and pasting black, white and gray shapes from The New Yorker magazines and clothing catalogs. Time spent reading and cutting the shapes helped to quell my anxiety of this time.
Images from 1967 House Beautiful, donated by a friend, presented colors both garish and bold. It tapped my memories from that time. An old engineering text was also a source for paper.
While this time presents many challenges and sadness, my studio time has opened into longer hours spent daily making and thinking. For this, I am grateful.
Maggie Stark
Spring 2020
photographic transparency film
The transparencies in this book are a photographic sampling of the discarded latex gloves left on the streets and sidewalks that I encountered while walking the neighborhoods of Dorchester, MA during the spring of 2020. I photographed each glove in situ, transferring the resulting images onto transparencies. Each glove becomes, in effect, an apparition – a trace of what is left behind.
Sarah Sutro
Lyrical Droplets
India ink
Series of ink drawings exploring the energy and quirkiness of marks/droplets.
Joanne Tarlin
I Believe in Science
mixed media, watercolor, acrylic, Yupo paper
I began with a spray of water and the idea that nature and science are in a contest. With the petri dish or globe, or corona – the circle as a unifying element, I composed. Each page is a drop signifying an emotion or moment in time.
Joanne Tarlin
From a Drop to a Flood
mixed media, watercolor, acrylic, Yupo paper, cotton paper, collage
We all know someone who died or was sick from the covid-19 virus. I have family who live and work where it raged in New York. Science, fear, pathogens, masks, staying safe, isolated ... the cacophony of thoughts flowed onto these pages, drop by drop. The cover art alludes to the Biblical stories: creation, darkness, “the flood,” as punishments, it sets the stage for images that allude to slides under a microscope or petri dishes.
Courtney Teixeira
Growth in Stillness
mixed media, colored pencil, ink, acrylic
Peter Thibeault
Ah-choo!
collage, ink
Kate True
How We Got Through, Scenes From The Pandemic
gouache
Gayle White
When All That’s Left Are Scraps, Make A Quilt
natural & chemical dyes, ink, watercolor, oil pastels, china marker, archival paper