To say that Wendy Orville is a bit of a sky-gazer, is
probably an understatement. Wendy’s
studio walls are tiled with photographs in which the camera’s lens was most
often pointed skyward. You’ll find
images of rivers and marshes and other bodies of water that capture the sky’s
reflection, but mostly, it’s all about the sky.
Wendy finds the ever-shifting light and clouds mesmerizing and the immensity
of the sky profound.
Framed monotypes in Wendy's studio. |
Having moved from the expansive landscape and saturated blue
skies of northern New Mexico to the misty forests of the Puget Sound region
about 20 years ago, Wendy was struck by the sense of being enveloped by tall
evergreen trees and dense cloud cover.
Here, the sky is less readily accessible, but more nuanced. You have to seek it out, finding openings in
canopies and cloud cover, or to access it at the edges, the seaside or on
mountaintops.
I joined Wendy in her Bainbridge Island studio in early
September. Outside it was grey and wet, but
her workspace was bright, warm and welcoming, much like Wendy herself. A painter turned printmaker, the centerpiece
of her studio is an etching press that she uses to make monotypes. Around the perimeter are glass slabs for
rolling out ink, brayers, ink cans and cotton rag paper. In addition to printing, Wendy spends a
considerable amount of time photographing and drawing. Working across media allows Wendy to study
the forms and relationships between shape and value in particular clouds and
skies.
Wendy adjusting her Takach etching press in preparation for printing a monotype. |
The monotype plate in progress. |
Wendy’s prints appear deceptively simple and viewers often
mistake them for black and white photographs.
These people are not looking closely enough, and, they are most
certainly missing out.
Her prints are
built from many layers of rolling gradations of black ink across plexiglass
plates, blotting, wiping and scraping ink and then re-rolling. Wendy repeats this process several times
before printing the plate. The sense of
depth and atmosphere that she creates is astounding. You may find Wendy’s work to be quiet or contemplative with a soft poetry. At the same time, her images are bold. They hold great weight. Her prints
are about power and mystery and the very depth of being able to feel the wind
rustle through your hair or the sudden coolness as a cloud casts a momentary
shadow across a section of your arm.
Wendy begins to draw into an inked plate. |
Norie Sato, Edged Out (1982) |
When we visited, Wendy had already completed
her response to Norie Sato’s Edged
Out (1982) from the Museum of Northwest Art’s collection: a pair of black and white
monotypes entitled Sky Diptych (2014). She found the process of working in dialogue
with another work of art to be both stimulating and meaningful. At the same time, the experience was a challenge. Or, perhaps, it was this particular piece? When Wendy was first introduced to Edged Out she asked me why we had chosen
it for her. I watched her as she looked
at the piece, wrestling with how she might respond and it took her some time to
connect with it in a way that she could generate new work that was both her own
and in dialogue. She identified the idea
of ‘breath’ to be the connection between the two. There is also a suggestion of anchors and
borders that the two works share. I
wonder if these compositional elements function as something to hold the breath
in the picture plane? Or, perhaps, to
stand firmly in place to contrast the fluidity of both breath and light?
As we were looking at Sky
Diptych Wendy asked me what I thought of it as a response to Sato’s
print. We looked at a small digital
image of Edged Out and I think that I
said something along the lines of ‘great!’ or ‘interesting’ (well, I think that I had more to say than
that. . .), but it wasn’t until I unwrapped Wendy’s prints at MoNA and leaned
them up against the wall next to Sato’s work that I really got it. The two works breath in unison. Or, perhaps they are exchanging the same
breath, back and forth as though they are exchanging the sky. It’s really quite moving. You must go to La Conner and see the two
works together. The museum is open every
day of the week—you have until January 4th—get going!
Wendy does consider herself a Northwest artist. Her work is about living here and responding
to the place that she lives in an unselfconscious way. She is especially drawn to spaces with a vast
and expansive feeling and she finds those here in Port Townsend and the
Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge. The light, landscape and solitude of these
places feed her.
Finally, I asked Wendy which she preferred: alone or
together? Both. Wendy seeks out a balance between having
solitude and also feeling connected to those around her.
Wendy Orville is represented by Davidson Galleries in Seattle, WA.
You can find out more about Wendy and her work on her website: www.wendyorville.com
If you are interested in learning more about making monotypes, Wendy offers workshops in her Bainbridge Island studio.