Going to be in Philadelphia in March or April? If so, visit The Athenaeum of Philadelphia's exhibit, "Building by the Book," which includes my sculpture Diorama (see first article, below).

Diorama is a carved wood book sculpture created for exhibition at the Athenaeum of Philadelphia as part of Philagrafika 2010: the Graphic Unconscious. The Athenaeum, in collaboration with the Philadelphia Center for the Book, called for entries responding to work selected from the Athenaeum’s legacy research collection of architecture and design.

Diorama responds to The Young Carpenter’s Assistant, published in 1805 by Owen Biddle. Eight of Biddle’s many original architectural drawings were chosen as the source for each of the eight pages in the sculpture. The cover and pages are carved following the growth rings of the tree from which the wood came. Each page is two growth rings thick around a perimeter supporting a five-layer carved interpretation of Biddle’s image within that framed perimeter. Two more of Biddle’s drawings inspire the front and back covers. The pages are carved from maple, and the cover is white oak.

Carving wood books along the growth rings of trees is full of meaning. Books, of course, are made of paper, which is in turn made from wood, which comes from trees. My book sculpture also comes from a tree. The bent forms of the cover, spine and pages, since they are exactly the way the tree naturally grew during those years, form a sort of diary of the very tree used for the sculpture. They are pages of my book, but also pages from the story of the tree itself. All those irregular surfaces, while naturally created, leave at the same time an impression of a book well loved and well used, which is, of course, true also of the trees from which the sculpture came. These overlapping meanings add intimacy and value to the object, conjuring up feelings reminiscent of real books long cherished, as has been The Young Carpenter’s Assistant.

I am honored to have been selected for this exhibition, and to be placed along side five other excellent artists from around the country.

For more information, visit these links: www.philaathenaeum.org www.philadelphiacenterforthebook.org www.philagrafika2010.org
	Left. A detailed view into the carved pages of Diorama. Right. Me at the Opening reception, leaning on Diorama's display case.

body image | body essence

Permanent Installation Begins at Philadelphia's Fox Chase Cancer Center

When my late wife, Mary, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 1999, I created a body of work, named body image | body essence, to document in art her experience, and that of others living with the disease. The exhibition traveled the country for 9 years, being shown publicly in 17 cities, and also in whole or in part in half-a-dozen private settings. body image | body essence was documented in several magazine publications, including Lancet Oncology, and on national, local and PBS television broadcasts. Mary was able to be part of ten of those exhibitions, and dreamed that one day, when the tour was over, the art would find a permanent home.

Last year, coincidentally at the time when the decision was made to end the tour, I learned that Mary's Mass General oncologist, Dr. Michael Seiden, whom she adored, had recently accepted the position as President of Fox Chace Cancer Center in Philadelphia. Considering this a sign, I offered the exhibit, in its entirety, to the Center, and they honored me with gracious acceptance. They envisioned the art permanently displayed in their new Women's Cancer Center, which was under construction and scheduled for completion this spring.

As the Women's Cancer Center nears completion, and parts are opening in phases, I've begun installing some of the work. One piece, called Survivor, was permanently installed on March 5, in the new reception area, which is so new it doesn't yet have furniture. Another, Echo, temporarily stands next to an administrative desk awaiting a new pedestal and cover so it can be moved safely to a more open area. Later this spring, or early summer, the rest of the art will be taken from storage and placed permanently in various locations around the Center.

I thank Dr. Seiden and his staff for so warmly welcoming my work into their space, where it can continue its work of education, validation and cartharsis for many years.

Clockwise from above: Survivor; a view into the Women's Cancer Center reception area with Survivor in the distance; and, Echo in temporary location.

Rant of the Month

My last two rants expressed some thoughts about curators. I thought them gentle rants. Nonetheless, a few curators and museum directors on my mailing list chided me, wondering if I was going to beat up on them in every issue. Though I do have a few complaints about the curatorial process, I certainly was not condemning the profession as a whole. Some of my best friends are curators. <toothy grin> Be that as it may, I think it only fair to heed the advice of some and express a concern or two about something else. I chose artists, visual artists, that is. So here goes ...

Why do visual artists hate to write? I've seen artists get downright surley when compelled to write the simplest of statements about their work. Fellow grad students would practically roll on the floor kicking the walls like 2-year-olds when asked to produce (gasp) a paper. Heaven forbid they be forced to articulate something about their work. Excuses and reasons used to argue against writing abound: my art speaks for itself; no one reads that stuff; and so on. Faculty too often encourages the attitude, again and again lowering the standards or the length of the required paper. It can be depressing in the classroom, and it doesn't seem to be much better out here in the non-academic art world, either.

Since leaving grad school 11 years ago, with my newly minted MFA, I've seen the need for writing about my work surface repeatedly. Time and again I've been asked for artist statements, once in three versions of three different word counts. When I found myself touring an exhibit around the country, I learned really fast the importance of talking about my work to newspaper columnists and TV interviewers, often with no prep time. I was grateful for the non-threatening practice I had in school.

So, all you artists out there, students and non-students, emerging and emerged, practice your skills at writing and talking about your art. Do it in small groups, at the bar, to friends and family, anything. But practice. You never know when you'll have the good fortune to be interviewed. Be ready. Besides, one day you might be writing your own rant.

Custom corporate and private commissions accepted:

jmagnan@johnmagnan.com • 22 Centre Street • New Bedford, MA 02740 • 508-999-5051