The last time I had made the trip to Hondo to see Gretchen Ewert in her studio was back in 1989 when I interviewed her for Tempo. Although I had been on that Hondo road a few times in the last few years, it was a pleasure to make my way up the muddy goat path to the house she shared with her sister, another artist, Abigail Winston.
Her e-mail, along with a few basic directions, said, “The house is a low adobe with a couple of trees in front and some rather funky out buildings sort of behind.”
Uh huh. That ought to stand out from the rest of the neighbor hood, I thought to myself, but there it was, just like she had described in the e-mail, and before long I was remembering what a wonderful spot this was. After warm hugs and greeting from these two creative sisters, Ewert and I retired to her studio with mugs of strong, French-press coffee, fresh scones and two decades to catch up on.
So much has changed in the intervening time. Five presidents have served in the White House. But in many ways we are much like the women who visited all those years ago — the time chock-filled with creative processes and the making of art for Ewert.
Although filling time with art is something she does willingly, allowing space to remain empty is something she says she is most interested in.
“I have a solitary Buddhist and a not-so-solitary yoga practice. It’s seems one feeds off the other. With art, I’m trying to deal with spaces that are not necessarily empty — but not filled. As a culture we feel we think we have to fill things. I’m addressing the idea of spaces that are not filled and not immediately complex,” Ewert explained.
“For example, the mountain is very insistent and present when it is in the scene, but this view,” she said, indicating the one outside her studio windows, “there’s more of a sense of emptiness. Sometimes, I like to look at something and take my time with it.
It’s a slower process, not like it is when there’s a lot of complexity com ing toward you, like the television screen where every corner is filled with information.”
And the art?
Depends on which work you’d like to talk about — her ceramics, botani cals or paintings that are deceptively simple and tissue-like textures painted with more strong coffee. Space is at a premium for Ewert who hides her musical library and print resources behind straw blinds in an attempt to control the clay dust, which she says is “pervasive.”
Ewert says that music is as important for the creation of her work as any of the other materials needed to create a piece. Her tastes are eclectic and thoughtful and very hip. From ambient electronic to jazz and blues, Ewert acknowledges how important music is for a sense of presence — like space opened, yet delineated, a painting of a world filled with color and movement, or one where layered and textured squares are arrayed on a grid — a visual and intentional reference to legendary modern-art-minimalist Agnes Martin.
“Sometimes I’ll listen to multi-lay ered composers like Jim Fox or Steve Reich,” she said.
And multi-layered is ne way one could describe her work, no matter which kind.
“I like being able to see layers of color coming through,” she explained.
She talked about her ceramic pieces.
“At some point, I didn’t want to really glaze. I studied it and passed the course, but I really wanted to paint on clay and deal with it that way and you weren’t supposed to paint on clay. Everything was supposed to be done in the kiln.”
“My original training was in print making, so and took the idea of lay ering as if I’m doing an etching and working with valleys and grooves.
There’s some fired on color, but mostly it’s all done with paint — layers and layers of paint you can see down into,” Ewert said.
She started teaching this technique at Santa Fe Clay 15 years ago and she’s still doing it and she said she was surprised that people continue to want to learn it.
“There is the sense that glazing is toxic. Though there’s some aspect of toxicity to this technique, there is not nearly as much as there is with oil base,” she said.
When asked why her clay pieces borrow so heavily from Egyptian imagery, she laughed and said, “The Egyptian stuff is kind of like dino saurs, everyone likes it. I like it and have always felt drawn to it. I like all the animal symbolism and the cul ture so loved life they wanted to take it with them when they died. It’s rich and marvelous that they did that,” she said.
Rich, multi-layered and marvel ous — like the many-faceted work of Gretchen Ewert.
“I’m addressing the idea of spaces that are not filled and not immediately complex,” Ewert says.
Ewert’s work can be seen at J Fine Art
221 Paseo del Pueblo Norte
■ (575) 737-0716
■ www.jfineartgallery. com
The last time I had made the trip to Hondo to see Gretchen Ewert in her studio was back in 1989 when I interviewed her for Tempo. Although I had been on that Hondo road a few times in the last few years, it was a pleasure to make my way up the muddy goat path to the house she shared with her sister, another artist, Abigail Winston.
Her e-mail, along with a few basic directions, said, “The house is a low adobe with a couple of trees in front and some rather funky out buildings sort of behind.”
Uh huh. That ought to stand out from the rest of the neighbor hood, I thought to myself, but there it was, just like she had described in the e-mail, and before long I was remembering what a wonderful spot this was. After warm hugs and greeting from these two creative sisters, Ewert and I retired to her studio with mugs of strong, French-press coffee, fresh scones and two decades to catch up on.
So much has changed in the intervening time. Five presidents have served in the White House. But in many ways we are much like the women who visited all those years ago — the time chock-filled with creative processes and the making of art for Ewert.
Although filling time with art is something she does willingly, allowing space to remain empty is something she says she is most interested in.
“I have a solitary Buddhist and a not-so-solitary yoga practice. It’s seems one feeds off the other. With art, I’m trying to deal with spaces that are not necessarily empty — but not filled. As a culture we feel we think we have to fill things. I’m addressing the idea of spaces that are not filled and not immediately complex,” Ewert explained.
“For example, the mountain is very insistent and present when it is in the scene, but this view,” she said, indicating the one outside her studio windows, “there’s more of a sense of emptiness. Sometimes, I like to look at something and take my time with it.
It’s a slower process, not like it is when there’s a lot of complexity com ing toward you, like the television screen where every corner is filled with information.”
And the art?
Depends on which work you’d like to talk about — her ceramics, botani cals or paintings that are deceptively simple and tissue-like textures painted with more strong coffee. Space is at a premium for Ewert who hides her musical library and print resources behind straw blinds in an attempt to control the clay dust, which she says is “pervasive.”
Ewert says that music is as important for the creation of her work as any of the other materials needed to create a piece. Her tastes are eclectic and thoughtful and very hip. From ambient electronic to jazz and blues, Ewert acknowledges how important music is for a sense of presence — like space opened, yet delineated, a painting of a world filled with color and movement, or one where layered and textured squares are arrayed on a grid — a visual and intentional reference to legendary modern-art-minimalist Agnes Martin.
“Sometimes I’ll listen to multi-lay ered composers like Jim Fox or Steve Reich,” she said.
And multi-layered is ne way one could describe her work, no matter which kind.
“I like being able to see layers of color coming through,” she explained.
She talked about her ceramic pieces.
“At some point, I didn’t want to really glaze. I studied it and passed the course, but I really wanted to paint on clay and deal with it that way and you weren’t supposed to paint on clay. Everything was supposed to be done in the kiln.”
“My original training was in print making, so and took the idea of lay ering as if I’m doing an etching and working with valleys and grooves.
There’s some fired on color, but mostly it’s all done with paint — layers and layers of paint you can see down into,” Ewert said.
She started teaching this technique at Santa Fe Clay 15 years ago and she’s still doing it and she said she was surprised that people continue to want to learn it.
“There is the sense that glazing is toxic. Though there’s some aspect of toxicity to this technique, there is not nearly as much as there is with oil base,” she said.
When asked why her clay pieces borrow so heavily from Egyptian imagery, she laughed and said, “The Egyptian stuff is kind of like dino saurs, everyone likes it. I like it and have always felt drawn to it. I like all the animal symbolism and the cul ture so loved life they wanted to take it with them when they died. It’s rich and marvelous that they did that,” she said.
Rich, multi-layered and marvel ous — like the many-faceted work of Gretchen Ewert.
“I’m addressing the idea of spaces that are not filled and not immediately complex,” Ewert says.
Ewert’s work can be seen at
J Fine Art
221 Paseo del Pueblo Norte
■ (575) 737-0716
■ www.jfineartgallery. com
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