April 30, 2003

Collages

I happened upon the webcollage page, by way of metafilter, and have been returning to it at intervals, ever fascinated, for the last couple of days. The page displays a continuously updated collage, automatically constructed from images found through random web-searches. ‘This is what the internet looks like’ promises the site’s blurb. Here, then, is what the internet looked like ca. 11:00 local time this morning:

Webcollage, 30th April 2003, c. 11:00 CET.

* * *

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to buy a couple of collages last year: the work of Portland-based artist Eva Lake, an on-line acquaintance of mine whose work, I recently discovered, is amongst that featured at an admirable site by the name of collagetown. Here are a few of Ms. Lake’s compositions:

'A Girl', collage by Eva Lake.

I’d find it hard to explain exactly why I like these collages so much: besides that they strike me as having an harmonious coherence about them; the work of a clear vision and a sure hand. I’ll let the artist’s own words (also excerpted from the collagetown site) do the rest of the talking…

'Because', collage by Eva Lake.
I have a fluctuating stack of things I have ripped out, stashed in an old flattened Bloomingdale’s bag and this is the source, sort of the pantry. Everything with potential gets tunneled through here, for the most part. Sometimes I am just working on feeding that bag and the collection in that bag is very important. I’ve got stuff in that bag, in that holding area, which I’ve had for already at least 20 years. You never know when it will be the right time to use it.
'Regeneration 2', collage by Eva Lake.
This is why collage for me is not only extremely personal and private but also sort of priceless. For how do you put a price on these things you’ve carried around from coast to coast, which cannot be repeated once they are glued down? A painting I might be able to repeat but a collage, never. It’s a strange situation. I know they are only pieces of paper.
'Third Eye', collage by Eva Lake.
…I find a moon that glows so beautifully next to his face, I think yes but a sun might be better, since he wrote about it. And while you’re at it, what about a dark horse somewhere for Mr. Harrison?
But it just never works that way for me. The images find me, they talk to me, not the other way around. You can search all day for the sun, you’re never gonna find it. Because the moon already looked at you and told you it was perfect.

The four images above are Copyright © Eva Lake, and are reproduced here with permission.

Posted by misteraitch at April 30, 2003 01:07 PM | TrackBack
Comments

I, too, love collage art. I blame Nick Bantock's Griffin and Sabine series for bringing it to my attention. I'm currently fascinated by Joseph Cornell. His boxes show such wit.

http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/cornell/

Posted by: Karmon on April 30, 2003 07:25 PM

This post distracted me for most of today (I can do that; I am home sick today). The virtual collage sucked me in, then collageworld.

Oh dear, oh dear, where has the day gone?

Lake's bag of pieces has an echo in my studio, only mine is folders and folders full of clippings.

I too am addicted to Bantock...

Posted by: Felicity on May 1, 2003 05:29 AM

Webcollage is an interesting idea. And it works!

Posted by: Rara Luna on May 1, 2003 10:42 AM

I rarely comment but I always read you. That being said, wow. Collage. It's hard for me to get past thinking of it as a kindergarden activity, but looking at these, I can see how this art form has indeed grown up. Your blog is always so interesting, either informative or entertaining, sometimes both.

*Mine* is brand new. I linked to you. Hope that's okay?

Posted by: Zoetrope on May 4, 2003 07:14 PM

Wow! I am so inspired by Lake's work! I have been wanting to get into collage for a long time now, being as I have pathetic drawing ability, but a good design sense. Good collage is truly fascinating and haunting.

Posted by: Emily on May 7, 2003 09:19 AM
Comments are now closed