THE ART ACTIVISM EXPO AT UNCA 

My Photo on the cover of Mountain Express   ACTIVISM EXPO AT UNCA. 

Spoke at UNCA about the relationship of my work to activism. Poet, Alli Marshall, wrote an article about my work. We were surprised when the Asheville weekly, “Mountain Express” featured one of my photos on the cover of the newspaper. I got a chance to meet new people from the community.

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 THE MIRACLE OF TRANSFORMING HATE 

Photograph by Dan R. Talley

Transforming Hate: An Artist’s Book, was completed this year, eight years after it was started. We did not know if it was possible, but in March we pushed to get a few copies ready for an April PHOTO+CRAFT presentation. Entitled “Making and Meaning: Photobooks and the Social Fabric”, this Black Mountain College Museum and Arts Center panel with Alejandro Cartagena, was one of thirteen events organized by Warren Wilson College here in Asheville.

The month before going to press, however, the Transforming Hate book design elements changed to include color and some unusual papers. This gave the book much more depth, but when the printing estimate increased by $10,000.00, my heart sank. Where was that amount of money going to come from? It had taken me a whole year to raise $7,000.00!

When I turned to my supporters and asked for additional money, 5 people donated the extra $10,000.00 needed, to put the book on the press, within 5 days. That was truly a miracle!

Me and Susan Rhew at Blue Ridge Printing

Susan explained the “whys and wherefores” as she proofed each page.

In addition to these angels, 60 people made donations to the project through NYFA’s Fiscal Sponsorship Program in 2013. It was their support and belief in the project that helped me continue working on the book. To you guys, a big “Thank You.” Your names are listed inside the book.

Here is an excerpt from the book:

“Hate is a fence built to signify time and place.

When I was growing up

schools,

churches,

hospitals,

libraries,

restaurants,

and movie theaters

were off limits to me because of my race.”

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Edition numbered signed copies of Transforming Hate: An Artist’s Book may be purchased for $50.00 from:
Vicky & Bill Stewart
Vamp & Tramp, Booksellers, LLC
E-mail : mail@vampandtramp.com 
Telephone : (205) 824-2300

Vamp & Tramp has placed the book in collections across the country.
Also available on Amazon.

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I hate to admit that I am essentially stuck in the 1980s when I saw my first artists’ books at Printed Matter below Canal Street in Manhattan. It was thought that artists’ books might become an inexpensive way to make art more accessible. Although most of my books don’t end up being inexpensive, my intention for my books is that they be produced inexpensively.

Each of my books has had its’ own process to which I have had to conform. As much as I try to control that process, the Transforming Hate book taught me, as no previous book had, that I am the book’s servant not its’ master. I ended up feeling like I had been recruited to come along for the ride.

Below begins sketches of the project’s beginning:

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Recently, my neighbor decided to go to France and begin a walk along the ancient pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. He is enjoying the simplicity of getting up each morning, putting on his shoes, and putting one foot in front of the other. When he was preparing to leave, I offered to light a candle and recite the short form of the Medicine Buddha mantra one hundred and eight times daily, for each day that he is on his journey. Are we lunatics for thinking healing energy will make a difference? I ask myself, what does reciting the Medicine Buddha mantra have to do with anything? Can it really help?

When I get up in the morning, after writing, I go for a walk in my neighborhood. Afterwards, I work in the garden. In the evenings, I go over to the Biltmore Estate and walk on the grounds with Kim. This simple act of walking and connecting with nature has become a different approach to finding my voice – different from the one I’ve had in the past.

I have to laugh when I say this. After reaching adulthood over 50 years ago, I have enjoyed living in cities. Except for going to the beach, dipping my feet in the surf, and sitting under an umbrella, I have not been the “outdoor, love-to-be-in-nature” type of person. I did love to walk in New York City, but “pounding the pavement” was quite different than walking in this West Asheville neighborhood or over at the Biltmore. For a long time after I moved here, I would say, “There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing happening!”

My relationship with the outdoors was “stay out of the poison ivy.” It’s beautiful looking through the car window! Oh no, not another bug! Is that a snake?

I never paid much attention to it, but walking had become a way of knowing what is in the air, of what is happening around me even if I can’t see it. The same was true for me in New York during the periods when I studied karate. The energy of the mountains, however, is quite different. The trees at the Biltmore, old and plentiful, make the air feel fresh. Despite the crush of tourists visiting in the summer, out on the paths and trails, it is quiet, peaceful, and tranquil – opposite the excitement I craved as a younger person.

Now I ask, is the river high? Do you think this fog will last? What does the surface of the lagoon tell me about the wind? What was planted in that field this time? Can we spot our wild friends – the deer, the turkeys, the geese, the black bears, who unlike the fenced-in horses, sheep, cattle, chickens, and goats – are never in the same place.

Summer is coming to an end, crickets in the morning, cicadas at night. Different shades of green now show patches of yellow, of red. People go down the river on tubes, in kayaks or canoes. Some ride horses on the trails. Some walk their dogs. Others walk or jog or ride bikes. People talk to each other, say hello, ask how I am and wait for an answer.

No vehicles beyond this point, just walking.

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John Horn, a Master Printer, ran his own print shop for over 50 years. I wanted to know how he handled type and the presses, and how his creative process worked. His poster, “Souls Dwell in Printer’s Type,” speaks to this relationship.

Treating the workshop like a residency, I began a new project which I plan to continue.  Like most of my work, discovering the concept was not a linear process.  It involved writing everyday, looking through my journals and through my photographs I had taken. I tried to connect the writing to past projects but, in the end I began a piece about my Mother.

After finding a direction, I began setting and proofing type, drawing and transferring images to linoleum. I must have looked totally lost when I began setting up the bed of the press because John came over and got me started. Thank goodness he did because I would still be there staring at a blank press bed.

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Today marks the 30th anniversary of the protest. While I have identified many of the participants pictured, there are still more images to be labeled. If you recognize anyone who has not been listed in the descriptions of the photos, please contact me.

I would like to thank Sabra Moore, Maria Martinez-Canas, Maria Elena Gonzalez, and Margo Machida for their help in identifying many of the people photographed.

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March 24—Planted carrots…

March 25—Snow again this morning. We put cloths over seedlings in the garden. It’s a white wonderland…

I began working on an image for the Penland annual auction…

March 31—Transplanted tomatoes to a bigger pot. Won’t go into the ground until May 1^st…

April 1—Watered peas, lettuce and, asparagus…

April 9—Got a delivery of two tons of river rock. Working on paintings for Penland auction. I’m mixing the colors in my mind, now I need to mix them on the palate…

April 10—I feel myself moving down into the painting…

April 14—We saw rabbits in the backyard this weekend…they eat everything.

April 19—Woke up thinking about the shooting at the synagogue by a white supremacist. Three people were killed. Everything something like that happens, it triggers my memories of my neighbor being shot by her jealous boyfriend. It reminds me that we are all wounded souls, that we have these places where we have been injured…

After living in New York city for 30 years, I am so grateful to be able to feel and see the beauty of the ground beneath my feet, to be surrounded by the birds chirping outside my window, to plant seeds, grow food, and to share a life with others.

April 30—I cut some small limbs off Eleanor, the fig tree. It looks like she didn’t make it through the winter…

May8—The bees are out in big numbers- I’m afraid of getting stung. Last year I got stung on my left thigh and it became swollen and black. The discoloration is still a reminder.

May 12—It’s hot, hot, hot! We tilled and conditioned the soil and watched the birds come down to grab the grubs… We lost the lavender during the winter.

May 19—It’s been cool over the last few days. The temperature drops into the 30s at night. Covered up the plants. The Amish paste tomato plants in the front are struggling in the coolness of the night. At first it was too hot, now it’s too cold.

June 4—Another shooting in California… this shooter wrote a manifesto about hating women.

I am glad I have the garden. For me, working in the garden is being involved in life in a different way…

June 11—Finally rain last night after two weeks of dry heat. Delivered the painting to Penland. Stopped by the toe river to put our feet in the water…

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Despite the increased visibility of women artists by 1984, most were not included in mainstream gallery or museum exhibitions. When the museum opened the exhibition with great fan fare, of the 169 artists chosen, all were white and less than 10 percent were women. Women artists were incensed.

At the time, I was just becoming acquainted with the New York City art world and I’d learned about the demonstration from posters that had been plastered all over Soho.  Although the National Organization for Women (NOW) had been founded in 1966 and Ms. Magazine was first published in 1972, opportunities for women artists continued to be limited.

Included in the photographs are Lucy Lippard, May Stevens, Linda Cunningham, Emma Amos, Sabra Moore, Sharon Jaddis, and Alida Walsh.

Please let me know if you can identify some of the other people in the images, which are now archived at the Duke University Sallie Bingham Center for Women’s History and Culture.

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I want to get back to work making images and putting together narratives but since the end of 2012 everything has been focused on fundraising for the Transforming Hate Project – clarifying goals, making a budget, raising money via emails, letters, grant applications and lectures. And now I am working with a new designer on a new website.

Fundraising – To have to take time away from what I call “my work” to raise money to get “the work” produced and “out there” has been extremely hard for me. When I say “hard”, I don’t mean hard like what it was like when I worked on the stock options desk or did spread sheets for those guys in mergers and acquisitions or debugged binary and octal code at NASA. At least I earned a reliable income from those things. I mean hard like giving up the mental space to create something that came from within to reaching for something from somebody out there. I know it all comes from the universe, but it’s a different way of functioning.

Hearing from other artists has, however, been interesting. Most seem to think that a person who has “been at it” as long as I have should not have to “ask for help” in the form of “small to whatever a person is willing to give” donations, contributions, and financial support. Many suggest other organizations to approach. I like hearing from my colleagues. I hardly ever run into you guys since I moved here to Asheville, NC and Facebook is no substitute to seeing you face to face.

So I look forward to letting you know about what I am trying to do.

To make a tax-deductible donation visit the link: Artspire Fundraising Page

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