a visit with Barbara Rehus
What do you wish you knew beforehand about being an artist? How would you have prepared yourself differently?
After leaving a completely
different type of career, I finished art school older than your average
graduate. I was so happy and
excited to be a professional artist after many years of feeling off-track. At the time, it seemed very important
to follow every step, endorsed by just about anyone, that would lead to a “successful”
art career. Much of the process took
me outside my comfort zone and used up a lot of time. It was a few years before I realized I had missed the window,
time-wise, for what many consider a successful career, and that the window was likely
not a good fit anyways. I thought
through my own definition of success, and realized it included everything I
already have: the talent and drive
to make art, the support of family and friends, the necessary time, physical space
and materials, as well as the freedom to make whatever kind of art I wish.
Take us through your creative process when embarking on a new series of
work.
Some object, interest, or feeling triggers an idea of what the new series might be. My current series began in 2010 with the find of a great book on puppets that popped out at me in a used book store. I knew right away the work would have something to do with puppets. Then, within a month, my sister and I found old puppet head molds in a consignment shop and that sealed the deal. We agreed to share the molds: I would cast heads and then she would incorporate the molds into sculpture. I had not done this kind of casting before, so it took a lot of research, much advice from very helpful staff at Canadian Sculpture Supply, and plenty of experimentation. Many things went wrong and it was sometimes incredibly frustrating, but I was determined to make it work. While struggling to turn out viable casts, the puppets began to present themselves in my head, fully formed. I didn’t even know what they were about; I just sketched them as they appeared so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Once the heads were finally cast, I started to assemble the puppets. Each one required something different in terms of material, technique or method of assembly. During this process, it became apparent that the puppets were going to be largely inanimate and were revisiting themes of earlier work: nurturance and familial relationships, misogyny, fear of loss.
Some object, interest, or feeling triggers an idea of what the new series might be. My current series began in 2010 with the find of a great book on puppets that popped out at me in a used book store. I knew right away the work would have something to do with puppets. Then, within a month, my sister and I found old puppet head molds in a consignment shop and that sealed the deal. We agreed to share the molds: I would cast heads and then she would incorporate the molds into sculpture. I had not done this kind of casting before, so it took a lot of research, much advice from very helpful staff at Canadian Sculpture Supply, and plenty of experimentation. Many things went wrong and it was sometimes incredibly frustrating, but I was determined to make it work. While struggling to turn out viable casts, the puppets began to present themselves in my head, fully formed. I didn’t even know what they were about; I just sketched them as they appeared so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Once the heads were finally cast, I started to assemble the puppets. Each one required something different in terms of material, technique or method of assembly. During this process, it became apparent that the puppets were going to be largely inanimate and were revisiting themes of earlier work: nurturance and familial relationships, misogyny, fear of loss.
How has your process changed over time?
Immediately upon
graduation from art school I joined an artists’ collective, Propeller, and then
a few years later, joined the collective Loop. Each collective requires that a member exhibit on a regular
basis and I defined my bodies of work by the next upcoming show. Generally ideas would come to me whole, in
a particular medium and/or technique, and usually it was new to me. That is how I came to work with
encaustics in a variety of ways, create installations of kiln-cast glass and,
later, screen-printed and fused glass.
And there are books, boxes, etched fabric panels, etc. I enjoyed the challenge of starting with
something fresh each time. The
puppet series is the first to continue across exhibitions. One reason for this is that the ideas
for these characters continue to come to me. Another other is – I think - that
each puppet gives me enough challenge in its creation; I am never bored. Over time, each series may be quite
different from the others in appearance, media, and possibly in overt
narrative. But, at core, the work
always somehow ties to a pull toward family.
What do you listen to when you work – how does it play into your
process?
I don’t listen to music or
the radio while working. I love
the sound of quiet, but unfortunately, mostly hear the sounds of lawn
equipment.Does your work evoke a personal history?
My work has always been about family in one way or another, sometimes obviously, and other times buried beneath layers of whatever else it is I am trying to say. My family is quite large, with ten brothers and sisters. Having that many children presents a challenge to any family, and ours was made more complex by generations of various forms of dysfunction, as well as sundry things most families experience. Growing up, older siblings cared for younger, creating relationships often as parental as they are fraternal, and which are still important in the way we relate to one another now. Working with family themes has been a way for me to deal with past and current issues and to delve into complicated emotions which might otherwise go unexamined.
Thanks for visiting with us Barbara!
Barbara has an upcoming exhibition at Loop:
But what’s its value? running August 15 – September 6, 2015
Closing reception, September 6, 2 – 5 pm
And running concurrently with loop member Rochelle Rubinstein,
a collaborative installation at:
Mon Ton Window Gallery, 402 College Street, Toronto, Ontario M5T 1S8
also you can see more work at: www.barbararehus.com
