Issue #6 - Real Gift Boxes

Giorgio Chirico "The Amusements of a Young Girl"

I recently finished a five-week art program with parents and teens I’d been facilitating at a local city school. The last night, as each participant shared the title and idea behind their piece, I was once again humbled by the insight and imagination with which the projects were constructed.

Let me back up. Like many artists I am a collector of “stuff” but the roots of this habit are from childhood. It may have begun with shells of the family summer pilgrimage to Jones Beach but I also amassed postcards as well as dolls, Little Lulu comic books, and souvenirs.

This collecting changed with age. As a teenager I saved chewing gum wrappers, old candle stick holders and movie ticket stubs. As an adult and a devotee of found art I became less discriminating, haunting garage sales for anything from gaskets to old lamp and coffee pot parts.

Everyone collects something, even if it’s not on purpose. Think of those single earrings you can’t bear to throw out. Sometimes it is a matter of holding on to that spare part, whether coffee pot or vacuum cleaner. Children are natural hoarders… old toys, books, baseball cards, etc.

A project based on this idea seemed like it would fine common ground between middle school teens and their parents. I called the project, “My Stuff in a Box.”

Joseph Cornell "The Hotel Eden"

We visited the Museum of Modern Art to take inspiration from another collector, the former Queens artist, Joseph Cornell. He, too, began collecting when he was young. Although untrained he later became inspired enough by the surrealistic works of Dali and Chirico to create box sculptures uniquely his own. Our group also stopped to take notice of the way in which Robert Rauchenberg created something strangely biographical just by arranging his pillow, sheet and blanket into a frame.

The participants were then invited to go on a scavenger hunt at home, gathering items by theme, color or at random. Together with the collage materials I would provide we would construct and assemble all into an arrangement that would tell something about them. Some families started out working together but eventually everyone made their own box with the idea they could be assembled together when completed.

Robert Rauchenberg "Bed"

Each week everyone returned, dashing in from work, uptown, downtown, meetings and the usual frenzy of family commitments. The room became hushed with focus and a deep level of involvement whatever the age. My role became more of technical assistant as I helped participants find solutions and use tools to answer construction challenges. No one seemed without idea or purpose so I never had a clear picture of anyone’s theme until the final revelation, which I think accounts to some degree, for my awe.

One mother called her box, “The Threads that Play My Heart.” Behind a curtain of hanging ribbon, woven into the top of her basket-box, she had arranged photos of her children.


The Threads That Play My Heart
Children don't define who I am,
they simply warm my soul.
The seam that keeps me together.
– Lydia

Another mother called her box, “Lucy” for the daughter who attended the workshop with her. High in one corner sat crystals within a sphere, a fanciful illustration of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds!”


Lucy
She is beautiful, Chinese,
Born the Year of the Rat, brings double happiness,
Loves jewelry, the beach
and has a bit of her mom (the snake).
– Cynthia

Lucy, on the other hand, named her box “Wheels” and suspended a toy car from the middle ( and she’d not even heard of Cai Guo-Qiang’s current exhibit at the Guggenheim!)


Wheels
Moveable, fast engine.
Love them.
Fast rotation, tricks.
– Lucy

Jackson, a seventh grader, created a vertical pin-ball machine, posing an almost Zen-like koan with his title, “Where Will It Fall?”


Where Will It Fall?
"This box is about life and you never know what you're going to get."
Jackson

Danielle created a box as a gift to her older sister, due home soon from college. She’d constructed a bedroom complete with the icons of her sister’s sorority. On one wall stood a pedestal with a framed picture of the two sisters, while at the far end, Danielle sought to surprise her with a sand tray garden.

Hearing each story was like the unwrapping of a gift. That is what was truly revealed last the night, the gift of each participant’s uniqueness, each one’s special vision. What is so remarkable to me while our visions change all the time, these were caught in the moment and shared by all privileged to be together.

Visit www.artforselfdiscovery.com for more photos and descriptions.