A Seat in the Studio Part II
As promised from the last post, this month's piece will highlight works that I found the most profound during our studio visit with G. Peter Jemison. Works such as Dead Chicken, Yaikneh, and Matching Luggage are only a glimpse into Ga'nigöi:yoh: The Good Mind but offers a secret world that meets the eye.
For the Haudenosaunee or Iroquois, this is the ideal philosophy of life. Following Peacemaker's arrival, who assisted bury arrows under the Tree of Peace, the Haudenosaunee have utilized this concept of awareness in their teachings of Peace. They believe that Peace is a state of mind obtained through a strong connection to Spirit, a process only attainable with exceptional clarity. Consequently, this will allow the Spirit to grow and attain Orenda, or the belief that every living thing manifests a spiritual, natural force. Those with a Good Mind have a strong Orenda and will lead to a life of Peace in turn. But with the existence of the Good Mind implies the presence of the Evil. The Iroquois Creation Story explains that everyone is born with a good heart and an evil heart. Regardless of how good a man is, he still possesses some evil. The reverse also is true. However evil a man may be, he still has some good qualities. No man is perfect
Dead Chicken, 1964, Oil on Canvas, $30,000
Artistic experimentation comes almost subconsciously to Jemison. In 1964, he was on the path to receiving his degree from Buffalo State College. However, working and studying alongside his peers in the studio proved to be more of a challenge than expected. Upon arrival, he became discouraged at the sight of other art students, and their portfolios - all of which he believed were better than his work. But instead of living in his self-doubt, he began to research other artists at the Albright Knox's gallery and library. Russian painter Chaïm Soutine and British artist Francis Bacon influenced his early years, inspiring Peter to think critically of the postmortem silhouette.
Initially tasked to create a still-life, Jemison completed what he believed accomplished the assignment. Suspended by a black rope, a lifeless bird, which rests partially on a stool, hangs with its beak gaped open, releasing one last gasp of life. A thick stream of blood trickles down its neck and floods onto an ominous crimson that lies beneath it. Its once pearly feathers are now tainted with dark ochres of sienna and salmon. Beyond the content, Dead Chicken separates itself from the rest of Peter's work through aggressive brushwork and application. Each stroke beats the canvas, causing the light to reflect in many directions and deepening the already obscure layers of navy blue.
Alongside portrayals of fruit and animals, the stench of the poultry carcass was not as appetizing for the other students. Stripped, ripped, and tattered, the work was verbally torn apart by the class and disregarded. The final product was attacked and vandalized, scaring the Chicken's torso and wings with a slight incision. Dead Chicken offers a peek into the artist's creative beginnings despite all the painting has endured, even if greeted with hostility.
As dark as the image may be, the most notable quality of this work is not the content itself but the way it was presented. As previously mentioned, I visited Jemison's studio a couple of times back in August to discuss artwork. While I walked around his space, I remember the artist and his assistant whispering to each other, "Wait until he sees Dead Chicken." I asked about the piece, which was initially getting framed, and all he replied was, "It's just a dead chicken." It's true; Dead Chicken is merely a representation of its own and nothing more. But to see Jemison, a stoic experienced man, break into a chuckle over this piece reminded me of the playful and emotional qualities within his work. His smile grew bit by bit with each word, like watching a child talk about a new friend.
In 1974, a large fire broke out in a shed where Jemison stored most of his work. Art forms created up until then, such as Dead Chicken, are in minimal quantities. This painting sat in the artist's parents' attic for years without contact. Recently, Jemison restored and reframed the work. Few pieces managed to evade the '74 destruction – "Ga'nigöi:yoh" is pleased to exhibit select works from this era.
Yaikneh (Strawberry Moon), 1985, Acrylic and Embossed Paper & Feathers on Craft Paper, $15,000
From 1978 to 1985, Jemison was the Gallery Director and Curator of the American Indian Community House in New York City. Because of his growing reputation, he received representation with a nearby gallery. He turned to craft paper as it was a less costly and time-effective practice/media; coincidentally, a paper-making studio was close to his job in Soho. This location allowed the artist to create paper from different pulp sources, like cotton, linen, etc., in various sizes. Once a pulp was selected, it was soaked in water with a mold and deckle (2 frames that help shape and distribute the pulp evenly) and later pressed to release any water that was still in the paper. However, in this last step, Peter took a creative approach to emboss his paper with different colors, shapes, and materials.
Yaikneh, created in 1985, is a prime example of this embossed technique. A small white sparrow stands atop a field of strawberries, eager to peck at the precious gem. The white sparrow's black and white speckled feathers are genuine, and acrylic paint adorns the rest of his body. The heard-shaped fruits, massive compared to the bird, are a common motif that string not just through Ga'nigöi:yoh but also throughout the artist's oeuvre. Fresh juice bleeds out from the fruit; during the drying process, Jemison, like the white sparrow, was too eager and began to paint the strawberries on wet paper. Yaikneh, which references the Moon when strawberries are at peak ripeness, is also an experimental project that portrays 2D and 3D. The berry's leaves are painted in flat tones of viridian, as are their golden seeds. The embossed elements, such as the berry's jam-like texture, which is excess paper pulp, juxtapose the overall two-dimensional qualities of the piece.
While craft papers' multifaceted nature can contribute to the art-making process, it also comments on significant themes of environmentalism and recyclability. Jemison's sobriety in painting is remarkable as it consequently allows the craft paper to shine. These embossed images on his handmade paper were popular during the mid-80s, but only a few are still available, such as Yaikneh and Road Mother, 1985.
Matching Luggage, 1994, Gouache and Egg Tempera on Paper Bag, SOLD
For Jemison, the bag was a common denominator amongst a growing New York City population. Not everyone could speak the same language nor read the exact words, but this everyday utility had deeper connotations of interconnectedness. Artistically, the paper bag specifically was multifaceted and could express a range of statements and stories, granting an audience to think critically of each angle individually and collectively. Typically found items, their lifetime is unknown, and speak on similar themes of environmentalism like his craft paper. Beyond the brown paper material, Jemison would also work on shopping bags from department stores and restaurants. In these cases, Peter's art would often be a response to the bag itself. "The bags are autobiographical as well as issue-oriented," he writes, "sometimes the bag itself adds to the idea." Matching Luggage is no exception.
This unique pair of recycled bags possess two concepts that unify all the works in this retrospective: Flora and Fauna. They are riddled with floral poems of dogwoods and orchids, echoing the Natural Surroundings logo. Flint corn hangs tightly on one side as a feather hangs on the other. During a studio visit, bunches of flint corn were hanging from the ceiling, which carries ceremonial significance, as Gabriele, Jemison's assistant, informed me. The pieces collectively exhibit the same geometric line-work that is ever-present in his contemporary style, as seen in works such as Holder of Heavens Calls Upon the Power of Earthquake and Dried Geometry. This line-work is reminiscent of the Orenda, which highlights the Spirit in every organic matter.
And while the cultural and natural iconography distinguishes the bags from their siblings, the relationship between the two products bolsters their individuality. Jemison's bags are incredibly personal, as these art forms expel a unique narrative between his philosophy and the art-making process. Matching Luggage furthers the purpose of the series' creation – that everyone has something to carry. A bag is ubiquitous, and it becomes a tool we cling to for daily assistance, especially on the go. By incorporating natural and cultural symbolism, this pair directly reminds us that we all share our personalities, traditions, and roots no matter how far we go, how much we carry, or how big our bag may be. Matching Luggage is perhaps a handful, but Jemison reminds us that our roots will always show through.
In a review of the MoMA PS1's "Greater New York" exhibition, the New York Times writes, "His use of humble paper bags is what is most exciting about his work." Their popularity has increased over time, and, consequently, so has their scarcity. His bags are now in prominent collections in prestigious institutions across the nation such as the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, NY; The Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, NM; The Iroquois Museum in Howes Cave, NY; The Memorial Art Gallery in Rochester, NY; The Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian, D.C.; as well as private collections.