Ellen Mueller

Interview with Sarah Cullen

by Ellen Mueller on December 11, 2023, no comments

pencil in a box in the wilderness

Image Credit: Sarah Cullen, “The City as Writtne by the City” – one of the devices a top Sacred Buffalo Guardian Mountain, Banff Alberta

As part of the release of the hardcover/e-book release of my book, Walking as Artistic Practice (softcover comes out in April!), I’m going to be publishing some brief interviews with the various artists, authors, researchers, creatives, collectives, and platforms whose art practice, written material, or other works I cite and mention.

My 17th interview in this series is with Sarah Cullen who is a visual artist based in Toronto.  She is most known for her walking work The City as Written by the City as well as her widening participation project, MOTHRA: Artist-Parent Project, for which she is the founder and director.

EM: First, thank you for chatting with me about your work, The City as Written by the City (2004-), which I cite in chapter two (Analyzing Works) in the subsection on “Maps and Mapping.” How would you describe this piece for people who might not be familiar with it?

SC: This work was conceived before I headed off to spend a year in Florence during my final year of my undergraduate degree. I was interested in walking as a method to make work. I decided that Florence would be my studio. Galileo’s presence in Florence and his work with pendulums was also a point of reference. So, what I made was a handheld box. One side has a door, the top has a handle, and inside the box hangs a pencil which is weighted like a pendulum. As I move carrying the box the pencil is activated and leaves marks on the paper that is placed at the bottom of the box. The pencil is a “dragging” pendulum in that when it swings the tip doesn’t leave the paper. The pencil drags about. The resulting drawing I call a map. It is not a map that can be read, but making the drawings is an act of mapping, or tracing, my movements. I have since walked many places with these drawing devices and have mapped many walks – urban, rural, flat, mountainous etc… Sometimes the device accompanies me on everyday errands, sometimes I am walking because of the device. It’s an ongoing work. The drawings are a bit like diary entries. Each one is unique. I have also held many workshops internationally where participants make their own version of my pendulum drawing device. These workshops are ongoing.

an abstract black and white drawing

Credit: Sarah Cullen, “The City as Written by the City” – A drawing made in Florence

EM: What are some of your most recent thoughts on walking as artistic practice?

SC: For a little while this method, walking as artistic practice, seemed to be everywhere.  When everyone seems to be doing it, as an artist, this can put you off continuing in that trajectory. I took a departure from walking as artistic practice for a while, but in the last few years my interest in it has bubbled up again.  After art school I ended up doing a MA Geography, so I am interested in all ways that landscape and place can be interpreted – walking being one method.  I was very recently at the Banff Centre in the Canadian Rockies.  My visit rekindled many memories, primarily my time there on the Walking and Art residency in 2007.  I’ve realized that my desire to continue this work has not gone away.

a person sitting in a snowy mountainous landscape

Credit: Sarah Cullen, “The City as Written by the City” – in the snowy Rockies taking a break – drawing device next to Cullen on the left

EM: Can you tell us about any upcoming or recent projects you are excited about?

SC: I’m working on a project about women walkers taking Dorothy Wordsworth as my inspiration. She did a heck of a lot of walking – for pleasure, inspiration, necessity, and to collect the post! I am most fascinated with her walks to and from the post office and the handmade bag she used to put the mail in. So…walking, letter writing, and stitching are some “slow” practices that I am working with for this project. That’s all I’ll say for now. Wish me luck!

Exhibition at FSU Museum of Fine Art

by Ellen Mueller on December 10, 2023, no comments

a suit and clipboard and some printed materials hanging on a wall

The End at FSU Museum of Fine Art

I’m excited to have my collaborative work,The End, included in All Hands on Deck: 15 Years of Collaboration at Small Craft Advisory Press. This exhibition is currently on view at the FSU Museum of Fine Art. If you’re down in the Florida area, I hope you will check it out!

Founded in 2009, Small Craft Advisory Press (SCAP) is an artists book press at Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida. With a mission to enable artists and scholars to create artists book editions that push the boundaries and traditions of the book arts, SCAP collaborates with creatives from across the world to produce sculptural and experimental artist books. This exhibition will feature books, printed ephemera, and the equipment and tools that go into producing these elaborate, interactive works of art. SCAP is led by Professor Denise Bookwalter.

Interview with Roberley Bell

by Ellen Mueller on December 4, 2023, no comments

a partially cut down tree on the street

Image Credit: roberley bell, “Still Visible After Gezi”

As part of the release of the hardcover release of my book, Walking as Artistic Practice (softcover comes out in April!), I’m going to be publishing some brief interviews with the various artists, authors, researchers, creatives, collectives, and platforms whose art practice, written material, or other works I cite and mention.

My 16th interview in this series is with Roberley Bell whose practice draws on the world around her, inspired by place and time. She is also the recipient of numerous fellowships including a Fulbright to Turkey.  Still Visible After Gezi and the accompanying monograph Do You Know This Tree? Published by Visual Studies Press documents a walk in Istanbul spanning five years. Bell creates personal walking projects and leads walking workshops internationally.

EM: First, thank you for chatting with me about your work Still Visible After Gezi (2015). I cite this work in chapter two (Analyzing Walking Works) in the subsection “Photography.” How would you describe this work for people who might not be familiar with it?

RB: The images included in the installation Still Visible After Gezi and the subsequent monograph  Do you know this Tree? Began in 2010, while I was living in Istanbul. I learn a city by walking and in 2010, on my daily walks meandering the city streets on a way to a friend’s house, or simply for baklava, I began to notice and started photographing certain trees. They were not iconic symbols of the beauty of nature, but rather trees that appeared compromised-yet protected, nurtured. These are trees that elsewhere might be considered ugly, or located in inconvenient places, and would just be cut down. In Istanbul however, somebody was really caring for them. The trees of Istanbul, for me, became a stand in for the humanity of the city. They are not the representation of natural beauty. Conversely these trees represent  the beauty of humanity through their desire to preserve and protect nature within the unstable social condition of the urban environment.

On May 21, 2013, demonstrations in the city of Istanbul began in Gezi park, which is a small, not particularly lovely concrete park with some trees in the center of the city. I often walked through Gezi and there was something about the demonstrations that hit home for me. Though the demonstrations were initially sparked because the government wanted to bulldoze the park and build a mall, it really was not about the trees. Yes, the first night it was to save the trees, and maybe even the second and third day, but the demonstrations of Gezi Park became a demonstration against the government of Turkey. In 2015, I returned to Istanbul. I wanted to try to find the trees I had photographed in 2010. The trees had become important to me and I knew the process of seeking them out would reveal something – I just wasn’t sure what that would become. I wanted to see If working from memory, I could relocate the trees. The experience resulted  in the monograph Do you know this tree? published by Visual Studies Workshop 2017 and the installation Still Visible after Gezi included in the traveling exhibition Wanderlust  2017.

photographs on a wall in blue boxes

Image Credit: roberley bell, “Still Visible After Gezi”

EM: What are your thoughts on walking as artistic practice?

RB: My practice of  walking takes on many forms and is yet only one  thread of my ongoing creative studio practice.

I employ the physical act of walking and the documentary process of sensory coding- mapping as a tool for understanding space and place. The city reveals herself gradually as I walk. Learning from the city, I am exploring the issues of sensory spatial engagement with place, using the city as a mode for research in and of itself. Through the simple performative act of walking, I engage in discovery as a means to understand something not yet known about a place. I connect to the world through my senses – what I see, what I hear, what the air tastes like. Walking heightens all of our senses whilst slowing down the pace of sensing the city. These sensory codes make places meaningful.

I am interested in the richness of the diverse representation of the city and the overlapping of space and place through the personal and collective narratives. How do we each see something different, what is our memory of a place and how do we record this rich history to develop a more inclusive use of public space as social space? My process of sensory observational walking provides an experimental method for approaching the investigation of the city. Whether it is our own city or an unfamiliar one, whether walking with a predetermined destination or following  sounds, smells, paths, people and shadows we are introduced to a place. Through the act of walking experiences of place are absorbed on their most personal level, feet first, step by step.

My walks begin as a personal quest, a form of investigation, sometimes with a defined strategy other times not. The relationship between the idea that I have for  the walk ,the physical walk itself and how I choose to bring the evidence of the walk to fruition is always in flux. Ideas often change  once on the ground. The form  that  is the evidence of  my walk emerges from my  process on the ground. I have completed walks  in numerous cities, including  Istanbul, Salzburg,  Sharjah ,Paris, Holyoke amongst others. The outcomes  were not predetermined at the onset. Each walk dictated  its own form. The results have been books, photo documentation,  handwritten letters, and drawings. I select the means that best capture the essences of the place, those experiences  and perceptions that I gather along the way. Alongside my personal walking projects I am engaged in walking with others, leading workshops worldwide.

hand drawing maps in a stack

Image Credit: roberley bell, image of the stacks of maps from Reading Poems: 26 walks in Malmo

EM: Can you tell us about any upcoming or recent projects you are excited about?

RB: My current project, Reading Poems: 26 walks in Malmö, began with the straightforward premise of walking the city each day. To explore the  edges, to walk as far as I desire in a day and to become more and more familiar with  Malmö as a place over time.

My daily routine  began with studying  my well worn street map of Malmö seeking a location to further explore, a neighborhood, a specific park ,a view to the sea, something I had been told about. Then I would move out leaving from the front door, the only constant over 26 walks was the point of departure. I would begin without a specific  path in mind. Just the idea of where I was headed, not  how I would walk there. I would allow encounters, something unexpected, or the desire to take a seat with a coffee along my way to direct the path.

Acknowledging  my surroundings and  letting go of  what might be the obvious way to a destination I walk nomadically. I would pause to reflect, to write, to draw here or there and then re navigate my path  and move onwards. The places where I  stop , things that I encounter do not form landmarks on my hand drawn maps, they are reflected in the linear gesture of the map because they have after all dictated my path.

Reading Poems: 26 walks in Malmö, takes the form of  26 hand drawn maps, along with a hand drawn street map and image lexicon.  My hand drawn maps are the mark of my walk as a linear thread  unraveling through the city. Drawn nightly while still fresh in my mind they also aided in planning the next day’s walk.

The maps are  drawn on vellum; the translucency of the paper allows each day to be seen through the next. The stack of days, one atop another  form a network that is  Malmö. The constant a  red house , my only landmark noted on the maps. It is my departure point, the doorway of my apartment block on Per Wickenbergsgatan. The small red house can only be seen on the most  recent  map, the one on top as that point is fixed, the daily path is not.

Because each day was its own exercise  I had the desire to visualize in fact where I had been . The hand drawn street map is that web of every street in Malmö that I walked over the course of 26 days.  Many I walked  on innumerable  times and intersections I crossed over time and again. This map is not about  the distance  traveled, it is a way to piece together the many  parts of the city like a puzzle becoming whole, that I had explored.

The lexicon began as a way to record each day . My strategy  was to have only one  image  taken at some point on my path. The image is not  iconic nor is it a significant landmark it is rather something that captures my attention long enough to photograph it . Each photograph is marked by date and time.  Time acknowledges the real time activity of walking as well giving a sense of my distance from one point to another.  If it was early in the day I was close to my front door. Later in the day I was somewhere on my path through the city. The images  that form  the lexicon are my  vocabulary of Malmö my  personal  visual language of place. The images reflect my own interest in the built and natural  environment .They are fueled by my wealth of prior associations.

The images in my Malmö lexicon are like concrete poetry; they can be rearranged  to create different narratives of Malmö. The exact location of each image is not necessary .The fact they are there is what is important. I would offer to anyone to wander the city letting what they see from the corner of their eye direct them.

Reading Poems: 26 walks in Malmö, will be exhibited at Form/Design Center Malmö, summer 2024.

Open Door XVIII at Rosalux

by Ellen Mueller on December 2, 2023, no comments

pink orange and green quilt with the words too big and pictures of garden chairs

Alanna Stapelton “Too Big (To Fit In)”

Join me for the reception of Open Door XVIII at Rosalux on Saturday, December 9, 2023 at 7-10pm. I juried this exhibition a few weeks ago (very difficult – there were hundreds of submissions from excellent artists!), and now it is on view. This was extra fun because I was once IN this exhibition (almost 10 years ago – 2015), so it’s a neat full-circle moment. Here is my statement on my selection process:

“ As an artist, it feels novel to be on the other side of the jurying process, rather than sending off applications into the void. I was guided by joyful subjectivity, influenced by my personal preferences, the scale of the gallery, current events, the weather, and other completely unpredictable factors. The only guideline I set for myself was that I must make all my selections within 24 hours, which I did. It was a pleasure to sort through all these submissions, and I look forward to hearing about what chance themes others see across the works once they are installed in the gallery.”

Come check out these 49 artworks (and maybe pick up a holiday treasure!). Gallery hours are 12-4 PM Saturday and Sunday and the gallery is located at 315 W 48th Street in Minneapolis.

The artists featured in Open Door XVIII are: Malini Basu, Amy Beeler, Cynthia Berger, Martin Brief, Anna Carlson, James Carothers, Nick Chatfield-Taylor, Girl Club Studio: Coco Murphy & Emily Clingan, Stephanie Colgan, Kathryn D’Elia, Vincent DeZutti, Duddley Diaz, Maggie Dimmick, Jacob Docksey, Wendy Fernstrum, Margot Finneran-Flyckt, Kyle Fokken, Ann Ginsburgh Hofkin, Bryan Gratz, Jenny Gray, Margi Grill, Aisha Imdad, Ethan Jones, Rashaun Kartak, John Kohring, May Ling Kopecky, Chuck Martens, Anna Lyle, Derek Meier, Mark Sarmel, David Morrison, Bill Nagel, Anna Orbovich, Abby Owen, Max Paulin, Karen Peters, Chris Rackley, Jeffrey Reimen, Phillip Robinson, Taylor E. Schumann, Amanda Smith, Jennifer Stano, Alanna Stapleton, Derek Toomes, Emma Ulen-Klees, Josh Winkler, Ivonne Yanez, Angie Zielinski & Jake Zirbes

Interview with François Morelli

by Ellen Mueller on November 27, 2023, no comments

man walking with sculpture on his back in front of graffitti wall

François Morelli “Trans-Atlantic Walk 1945-1985” Berlin Wall (1985) (Leonard Bullock)

As part of the release of the hardcover/ e-book release of my book, Walking as Artistic Practice (softcover comes out in April!), I’m going to be publishing some brief interviews with the various artists, authors, researchers, creatives, collectives, and platforms whose art practice, written material, or other works I cite and mention.

My 15th interview in this series is with François Morelli. Born in Tiohtià-ke (Montreal), François Morelli has been performing and exhibiting his work since 1974. Since, his practice has been interdisciplinary, performative, and relational. He began teaching in 1981 and retired from Concordia University in 2019.  He shares his life with the art and design historian Diane Charbonneau and their son the art historian and performance artist Didier Morelli.

EM: First, thank you for chatting with me about your work Transatlantic Walk 1945-1985 (1985). I cite your work in chapter six (Rituals) in the subsection on “Contemplation.” How would you describe the work for people who might not be familiar with it?

FM: Walking and collecting water from fountains, canals, and rivers in five European and three American cities, the Transatlantic Walk 1945-1985 began on August 6, 1984, at CheckPoint Charlie at the Berlin Wall on the 40th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, and ended September 2, 1984, in Philadelphia.  With ideas of fusion and fission in mind, when asked what I was doing I would say “I’ve been walking for forty years carrying my friend to America.” Contesting the tradition of commemorative public monuments, these ephemeral actions used public water sources to bathe, fill, care and heal my ailing counterpart.  A peripatetic journey of site responsive symbolic actions, durational carrying while walking highlighted societal checks and balances while testing the limits of normative behavior. Built on these relational and kinesthetic dynamics, the work raised political, psychological, and environmental concerns of a post-nuclear existence.

EM: What are your thoughts on walking as artistic practice?

FM: While the act of representing moving figures in motion captured the imagination of sculptors for centuries, the question today of mobility and freedom of movement remain central to art and the human condition. I began by walking lines that celebrated the space and time in between places and I have come to understand how these process driven actions intersected with others and led to a relational understanding of what it means to be human and an artist today.

EM: Can you tell us about any recent or upcoming projects you are excited about?

FM: With the 1916 calligramme poem Il pleut (1916) by Guillaume Apollinaire as a score, I will be walking in Montreal’s balancing a large Y shaped tree branch yoke on my shoulders.  Fitted with small laboratory porcelain measuring cups, I will be using this this sculptural prosthesis to collect snowflakes and raindrops for a concurrent exhibition at the neighboring gallery. This month-long action and exhibition will feature water inspired art by Toronto based artsist Ed Pien and myself.