On the heels of a difficult personal transition, artist Mary Rowland created a piece she straightforwardly titled, “Paradigms, Perceptions, Emotions and Pain.”
“Mary, I think you need to pick more cheery subjects,” her sister told her, on viewing the work. “I don’t think anyone wants to hang pain on their wall.”
Rowland’s sister had unwittingly gotten to the heart of the piece, now on view at Grace Episcopal Church as part of a women’s group show, “Of Sun & Moon, Of Water & Earth, Of Male & Female.”
The mixed-media “Paradigms” is a study in layers. It starts with a cabinet door embellished with funky antique hardware, overlaid with Plexiglas. On the clear surface is painted a Modigliani-inspired figure in primary colors, head tilted a little sadly, with a real set of spectacles affixed to her face.
Through the door, a black background and white writing are visible. Opening the door reveals a “chalkboard” – black gesso – onto which is drawn the same woman’s outline surrounded by written musings.
Raw from a divorce and having recently read William Young’s “The Shack” – the story of a man’s accidental quest for God after the abduction of his daughter – Rowland found herself interested in the idea of “layers of pain” as well as in public persona versus private self.
So often, Rowland said, people – herself not excluded – operate in public with perky masks on.
“How are you?” we will ask each other. “Oh, fine, fine! I’m good! You?” “Good, good!”
Through deceptively exuberant colors and the cheeky application of found objects and jewelry, both the painting at Grace and a solo show now up at Bainbridge Bakers ask a challenging question: Why do we expend so much energy on acting fine when we all experience pain, and when that very pain can bring learning and wisdom?
How refreshing it would be to feel easy answering the question “How are you?” with “Eh! Things have actually been better.”
“If you just open the door…” Rowland said.
The artist, a member of Grace, finds solace in the 8 a.m. Sunday services and finds inspiration in her classroom at Bainbridge High School, where she’s taught for five years. (She’s been with the Bainbridge school district for most of her 10 years here.)
This year she’s taught advanced placement studio art, yearbook, design, painting, and drawing; she has also taught art history and printmaking. She tries to keep her classroom environment free, with a goal of helping students reach a solid comfort level with the studio environment and materials.
She also frequently brings her own works-in-progress to class, asking for input from students and colleagues.
Keep in mind that I’m not Picasso, she jokes with them. But purposefully.
“If I am not there doing pieces as well, if I’m not feeling the pressure, how can I ask the same of them?” she said.
Rowland may have 15 pieces in progress at any given time, applying copper tooling to one as she paints another, working through the piles stacked in the loft space she shares with her young adult children. Her time to play – play is how she characterizes making art despite her sometimes heavy themes – is from about 4 to 6:30 a.m.
She’s never had the luxury of an eight-hour art day, she said, and she’d probably get bored if she did.
“That’s just how I work – bits and pieces,” she said. “It’s amazing what you can get done in 20-minute segments.”
