Stephanie Ognar Etsy shop
May 11, 2013
Some of my art work is now available for purchase through Etsy.
A pair of the Underpants can be quickly and easily displayed folded on the wall with just a pin through the eyelet edging. It's like a magic trick.
If you'd like to do a studio visit or are interested in acquiring work from one of the series not available in my Etsy shop, please contact me. I'd love to hear from you!
Upcoming Exhibit at the Maryland Federation of Art
November 25, 2012
Three works from my series Glaciers, Geysers, and Waterfalls will be included in the exhibit Small Wonders at the Maryland Federation of Art, November 30 - December 28, 2012.
Upcoming exhibit: Rust Never Sleeps
October 11, 2012
Yes, the words of Neil Young impelled me to apply for this show, Rust Never Sleeps. I also dig the unusual material aspect of the show--all the works contain iron oxide as a medium.
In 1996 I constructed a chain mail dress that fits my body, then laid the dress on vellum, and watered it to make rust images grow. Two of the rust prints, Undress 3 and Undress 5, will be included in Rust Never Sleeps at the Martha Gault Art Gallery at Slippery Rock University in Pennsylvania, October 29 - November 20, 2012.
Upcoming exhibit in Nashville
September 12, 2012
I wish I were going to Nashville, but my at least my work is. Three of my pieces--Flip Book Glance, Flip Book Kiss, and A Lover's Discourse, shown below--will be included in Familiar Relics, an exhibition of handmade artists' books at the Currey Gallery at Watkins College of Art, Design & Film, October 5-26, 2012. The exhibition is part of Handmade & Bound Nashville, a festival celebrating independent publications and printed matter, featuring artists’ books, zines, and mini-comics.
July 5, 2012
New York-based designer Matt Singer has graciously invited me to curate the selection of books on his site for July 2012.
Below is a record of what I gave him:
My life and work were deeply marked in the time during and since a 4-week artist’s retreat in Ucross, Wyoming, in September 2009. I went to Wyoming without a set plan for the art I’d be making, wanting to leave myself open to the environment and my experiences there. Three of these books I read while living in Wyoming; the other two I had read earlier but the words still breathed in me, influencing the creation of Rivers while in Wyoming and of a related body of work—Glaciers, Geysers, and Waterfalls—after returning home to Illinois. While my work is influenced by a myriad of sources and experiences, these books, through which a theme of water runs, have directly impacted the shape of my recent work.
The White Album
From Holy Water:
“I wanted to produce some power down at the San Luis dam. I wanted to pick a pool at random on the Aqueduct and pull it down and then refill it…I wanted to be the one, that day, who was shining the olives, filling the garden, and flooding the daylong valleys like the Nile. I want it still.”
From At the Dam:
“The star map was…for when we were all gone and the dam was left…a dynamo finally free of man, splendid at last in its absolute isolation, transmitting power and releasing water to a world where no one is.”
The Solace of Open Spaces
“To follow the water courses in Wyoming—seven rivers and a network of good-sized creeks—is to trace the history of settlement here…Land was cheap and relatively easy to accumulate, but control of water was crucial.”
“Water can stand for what is unconscious, instinctive, and sexual in us, for the creative swill in which we fish for ideas. It carries, weightlessly, the imponderable things in our lives: death and creation. We can drown in it or else stay buoyant, quench our thirst, stay alive.”
“Everything in nature invites us constantly to be what we are. We are often like rivers: careless and forceful, timid and dangerous, lucid and muddied, eddying, gleaming, still.”
“Lovingly he gazed into the flowing water, into the transparent green, into the crystal lines of its mysterious patterning…But of all the water’s secrets, he saw today only a single one—one that struck his soul. He saw that this water flowed and flowed, it was constantly flowing, and yet it was always there; it was always eternally the same and yet new at every moment! Oh, to be able to grasp this, to understand it! He did not understand it, did not grasp it; he felt only an inkling stirring within him, distant memory, divine voices.”
The Sea and the Bells
crying to be born,
growing before my eyes.
There in the mountain ranges of my country
at times and long ago
I saw, touched, and heard
that which was being born:
a heartbeat, a sound among the stones
was that which was being born.”
“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patters that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”