Ben Cunningham: Contemporary Stained Glass Windows 2012

Contemporary Stained Glass Windows (detail), 2012 by Ben Cunningham

A native Californian, Ben was born and raised in Laguna Beach. After high school, he moved to La Coruna Spain where he taught English as a second language. After completing his terminal degree at Rhode Island School of Design he blew glass full time at Corning Glass Museum in Corning, New York. In 1996, he was recruited by Penn State University to teach 3D Design, Jewelry, and light metals courses. In 2004, Ben accepted his current position at Millersville University as Head of Freshman Foundations. He instructs 2D Design, 3D Design, Drawing I, Drawing II, Senior Seminar and Public Art, Public Space. His favorite course to teach is Public Art, Public Space because it allows him to reconnect with his former students and witness how much they have grown. Ben has an active international, national, and regional exhibition schedule and is in the permanent collection of several museums in the United States as well as Europe. His last exhibition was in Schrattenburg, Austria. He has traveled extensively throughout Europe as well as Northern Africa. In his spare time he races his Porsche.

Listen to the interview conducted by Collections Assistant, Brittany Baksa with Ben as he discusses his piece, Contemporary Stained Glass Windows.

http://www.divshare.com/download/20670130-814

Learning the Art of Connoisseurship

Historia Naturalis, hand-colored engraving, 1657

Each year, The Phillips Museum of Art collaborates with faculty to provide hands-on object based learning experiences to students across the curriculum.  When Professor Michael Clapper of the Art Department  approached the museum with an idea for a new take on object-based learning for his ART 249 History of Printmaking Class, Museum Director Eliza Reilly saw it as an opportunity to advance the idea of the museum as a “laboratory for learning.”  The students became active contributors to the museum, overseeing the purchase of new works for the collection that will be studied by future generations of students for many years to come.  The class was given a $1,000 budget to purchase prints of the students’ choosing to add to the museum’s permanent collection. The purchase project allowed students to apply their connoisseur skills to the real world, taught them how to make intelligent decisions when making purchases on the web, and inspired the next generation of art collectors proving that young collectors can start a substantive collection of quality historical and aesthetically interesting works of art on a modest budget.  The staff was thrilled when we saw their purchases and we are very excited to have these prints as part of our collection. The prints were on view as part of the class’ exhibition Studying Human Nature and the World: Prints of the Seventeenth Century.

Professor Clapper summarizes their purchases:

Jacques Callot, The Strappado, plate 10 of The Miseries and Misfortunes of War, etching, 1633.  This is the first work by this important printmaker to enter the college’s collection.  Callot is known for his technical innovations in etching and ambiguity and complexity of his portrayal of human nature. He invented new tools and techniques so that he was able to make etchings in the style of engravings. The refinement and grandeur of his style contrasts with his often farcical or tragic subject matter.  The Miseries and Misfortunes of War, a series of eighteen images that portrays the pageantry and the savagery of war, is his most renowned work. This image features the strappado, a torture device with which a person is suspended by their arms tied behind their back and then sometimes dropped and stopped short of the ground, causing intense pain an injury to the arms and shoulders.  The artistic and social import of this print turn on the contrast between this gruesome practice and military orderliness elegantly portrayed.  Bought over the web from Christopher Mendez, a London dealer in old master prints.

 

Matthaus Merian, Butterflies and Moths, from Historia Naturalis, hand-colored engraving, 1657. This is a fine example of a natural history print. Since its invention, printmaking had been used as a means of making exactly repeatable images for purposes of scientific cataloguing. Publications such as the one from which this page comes organized and transmitted knowledge about the natural world. Natural history prints are now appreciated primarily for their decorative effect, but they are historically important as documents of an attempt at orderly, comprehensive understanding of the world. The fact that such works are as much science as art makes them under-represented in many art collections, including ours, while the scarcity and high value of the entire volumes from which such images are taken makes them rare even in special collections libraries and liable to be disassembled and sold as separate leaves. Bought through EBay from Daniel Good, a major UK rare book dealer.

 

View of the southern Italian city of Tricarico, from Georg Braun and Franz Hogenberg, Civitates Orbis Terrarum, volume 6, engraving, 1617. This engraving comes from a six-volume city atlas that was a landmark publication in that its city views portray the actual features of particular cities, rather than fantasies or generic images. The first volume first appeared in 1572, shortly after the 1570 publication of Abraham Ortelius’s Theatrum Orbis Terrarum, the first true atlas, for which Hogenberg had engraved the maps. This engraving comes from the sixth volume of the Civitates, first published in Latin in 1617. In addition to their technical and aesthetic merits, early city views like this demonstrate a new commitment to understanding the world through accurate, specific topographical representations. Bought on EBay.

 

Student Spotlight: Erika Herrera

Erika Herrera SP'12

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m from Los Angeles and I am a studio art major with a focus in photography. I would have to say my favorite artist is Man Ray. I fell in love with his work after an artist presentation for digital photography and took interest in a lot of his work.

This year I worked as assistant to the preparator in The Phillips Museum of Art and have been involved in hanging the various exhibitions shown this year. One of my favorite exhibitions has been Colors of Greece – The Art and Archaeology of Georg von Peschke. Peschke is an artist I had never heard of and I found his work truly amazing.

The most challenging aspect of this job has been the amount of work that goes into getting a show ready. I really enjoy working with the museum staff because of everyone’s energy. It has been very hard balancing the museum and school work, and I am very fortunate to have worked with wonderful people.

After graduation I will be returning to The Phillips Museum to work as next year’s Mellon Post Baccalaureate Fellow. I am very excited to spend another year around the museum doing something I enjoy. Once the year is over I am considering pursuing an MFA in photography, but things can always change.

Uncovering Museum Mysteries: World War II Souvenir Flag

Today’s Guest Blogger is Rob Hasller an F&M American Studies and Art History major ’12 who is part of the Museum Mysteries Seminar Course:

World Wart II souvenir flag or "hinomaru yosegaki", Japan, 1941-45, ink on silk

On November 1, 1945, an American soldier named Earl (last name unknown) sent two letters from his post in Manila Bay, the Philippines, to family members in Florida. Earl, stationed at Manila Bay in the Philippines and hoping to return to America to vote in his first election, enclosed this Japanese flag as a souvenir of the American enemy. The flag, known as a hinomaru yosegaki (“to write sideways around the red sun”), was a talisman given to a Japanese soldier bearing signatures and the wishes of good fortune of family and friends. The characters, written on the silk flag with brush and ink, usually flowed outward in a rayed pattern. In this example, crowded with well-wishes, the messages overlap the sun.

As American soldiers carried photographs of their family and loved ones, Japanese soldiers carried their hinomaru yosegaki as reminders to return home safely from the battlefield. Nothing further is known of the fallen Japanese soldier who carried this flag.

-Rob Hassler ’12-

Student researchers are exploring some of the mysteries behind museum objects to reveal hidden histories. Objects from the Museum Mysteries seminar course will be on view in The Nissley Gallery at The Phillips Museum through May 11, 2012.

 

 

Uncovering Museum Mysteries: Pocket Bottle

Today’s Guest Blogger is Karen Thomson, an F&M Anthropology and Spanish major ’12 who is part of the Museum Mysteries Seminar Course:

Pocket Bottle Attributed to the Henry William Stiegel glassworks (1764-75), Manheim, Pennsylvania, Nonlead glass

Pocket bottles held medicines, alcohol, or other liquids. This amethyst-colored example stands out for its visually appealing color and design. The combination of deep purple color (created by adding manganese oxide to the molten colorless glass batch), rounded shape, and particular diamond-daisy pattern characterizes bottles manufactured by German-American Henry William Stiegel (1729-85), who constructed and operated a glasshouse in Manheim, Pennsylvania, from 1764 to 1775. Glass historians have not found evidence that any other makers used the distinctive diamond-daisy pattern in the late 18th or early 19th century, which allows confident attribution to Stiegel.

 

To make this bottle, the glassblower blew his “gather” of glass into a partial-size or “dip” mold that imparted the diamond-daisy pattern. Next, the glassblower blew the bottle to its full size and flattened the sides to create its final form, a process that distorted the molded design.     -Karen Thomson ’12-

Student researchers are exploring some of the mysteries behind museum objects to reveal hidden histories. Objects from the Museum Mysteries seminar course will be on view in The Nissley Gallery at The Phillips Museum through May 11, 2012.

Uncovering Museum Mysteries: Coffee Grinder

Today’s Guest Blogger is Deena Gittle an F&M Art History major ’12 who is part of the Museum Mysteries Seminar Course:

Coffee grinder, The Imperial Arcade Manufacturing Company (est. 1885), Freeport, Illinois, 1930s, iron, wood, and plastic

Coffee lovers agree that any device used to savor the flavor and aroma of coffee beans is useful. This coffee grinder was one of numerous designs produced by The Imperial Arcade Manufacturing Company over many decades. The company molded its name into the gold-colored cast iron and printed it along with the model and patent number on a label now missing from the front. This 1930s model has a distinctive S shaped handle that incorporates a knob made of an early type of plastic, which was an upgrade to wood.

“Burr grinders,” as these coffee grinders were sometimes called, were known for their innovative design that made them quieter, less messy, and less likely to clog. The distance between the two grinding wheels inside the grain-painted wood box was adjustable, allowing the user to select a finer or coarser grind, thereby enhancing the distinct flavor of the coffee beans. Ground coffee fell into the drawer below. -Deena Gittle ’12-

Student researchers are exploring some of the mysteries behind museum objects to reveal hidden histories. Objects from the Museum Mysteries seminar course will be on view in The Nissley Gallery at The Phillips Museum through May 11, 2012.

From the Collection: Caroline Peart

Today’s guest blogger is F&M Art History Major,  Megan Cohen ’12.  Megan has been researching works by Caroline Peart (American Painter 1870-1963),  from the permanent collection of The Phillips Museum of Art, which is the primary repository for the artist who resided in Lancaster County through various periods of her life. Megan has designed an exhibition of small works from the museum’s permanent collection, on view through May 12, 2012:

These small oil sketches were made by Caroline Peart (1870- 1963), a Philadelphia artist who studied with Cecilia Beaux at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art. At the age of 18 Peart traveled to Italy, Spain, and France. During her travels she made dozens of small paintings on “academy boards,” which were an economical and lightweight alternative to traditional canvases. Originally designed for use by art students, academy boards were adopted by professional artists to make oil sketches while traveling. Many of the boards displayed here were purchased by Peart in Paris at the art supplier G. Sennelier, 3, quai Voltaire, 3 that still exists today.

Caroline Peart was one of 25 students chosen by noted American painter Cecilia Beaux for her advanced portraiture class. Beaux was the first woman to have a regular teaching position at PAFA (Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts).

This 1890′s oil is believed to be a portrait of Cecilia Beaux. Peart used an academy board to first paint a rough sketch of the full-scale portrait displayed here.

Sketch for Woman with Violet Corsage

Peart became interested in a professional career around the same time that Beaux began teaching at the Academy. In Peart’s diary entries she writes that Beaux, her mentor, advised her not to pursue a career as a professional painter because of the hardships placed on women artists at the time. -Megan Cohen ’12-

 

 

 

Artistic Anatomy: A Study of the Figure

Today’s Guest Blogger is Salina Almanzar ’13 whose exhibition, Artistic Anatomy: A Study of the Figure is on exhibit in the Curriculum Gallery in the Phillips Museum of Art, Steinman College Center through April 27, 2012.

Copyright of Salina Almanzar. Used with permission from the artist.

I started this study thinking that understanding every little muscle, bone, protuberance and bulge of fat would make the moment my hands molded the clay or my brush bent against the canvas that much more deliberate. It didn’t. What this study has taught me is that anatomy for the artist is not quite the same as anatomy for the general public. The dissection I take part in may inform me intellectually there’s a jarring moment where I leave behind the artist and enter the realm of the anatomist. My personal struggle became identifying where I stood in relation to both as a student.

I became captivated by the figure in Figure Drawing and my logical next step was to break the figure apart to its minutest parts to attempt to understand it. I quickly learned that breaking something down often makes it harder to put back together. Studying too often overshadows observation. Thus this year has helped me find the happy medium between both; A dance between my studying anatomical landmarks and muscle groups and preserving the purity of gestural form.

Discovering early on that artistic anatomy analyzes the figure as an interactive body informed the way I worked. Much of my appendage studies bear the brunt of that journey. I struggled for weeks trying to figure out just how far forward the patella sat in front of the tibia. I distinctly recall the moment I realized that maybe that didn’t really matter. Maybe my job as an artist is to analyze how that specific bone interacted and reacted with everything else around it. Maybe knowing the precise shape and measurement was in fact not the be all and end all of sculpting the figure. This moment, I believe, is where I made my most productive work. The latter half of my study consisted of mostly day paintings and large scale sculptures that hinged more on gesture than static anatomy.

A year later, I can identify a slew of bony landmarks and I can measure the angle of the pelvis in relation to the rib cage yet hands still fumble. This paradoxically superficial knowledge means nothing unless I apply it in such a way that it informs my art without detracting. This, then, is balance is what defines art. It seemed counter-intuitive to me at first, but my ‘job’ is not to tell you about the figure, but to show you.

Uncovering Museum Mysteries: Salt Spoons

Today’s Guest Blogger is Marissa Sobel, a History major ’13 who is part of the Museum Mysteries Seminar Course:

Set of 6 salt servers and spoons, Probably Czechoslovakia, Lead glass

“According to several etiquette books written from the 1920′s on, salt spoons were used at formal and informal dinner parties. Diners might share a set of salt and pepper dispensers with their dinner partners or use their own salt spoons to take salt from a communal dish or from individual salt dishes, such as the glass examples in the boxed set. This particular set came with its own glass salt spoons.

Set of 12 salt spoons in a linen case, Probably Norway, after 1920, Sterling silver with colored enamel inlay

This set of silver salt spoons, with unusual leaf-shaped bowls, has inlaid enamel on the fronts and backs, a decorative feature suggesting Norwegian manufacture. The number “925” impressed into one side of the spoon handle indicates sterling silver. Historically, English silver makers used the 925 mark for 92.5% pure silver.  tarting in 1920, Norwegian silver makers adopted the 92.5% standard in addition to their 83% silver standard. A maker’s mark stamped into the other side of the handle has not been identified.  Salt residue has discolored the bowls.” -Marissa Sobel ’13-

Student researchers are exploring some of the mysteries behind musuem objects to reveal hidden histories. Objects from the Museum Mysteries seminar course will be on view in The Nissley Gallery at The Phillips Museum through May 11, 2012.  

 

 

Deconstructing the Human Form

Today’s Guest Blogger is Dan Deibler ’12 whose exhibition Deconstructing the Human Form is on exhibit in the Rothman Gallery Atrium in the Steinman Student Center (ground floor) through May 12, 2012.

Legs, 2012, Under Copyright, Used with the permission of Dan Deibler

“I believe the most important element of my study to discuss is how I made the leap from discovering the viewer’s identity to discovering my own. Since the beginning of my study, I had proposed that peeling away layers of people’s skin (theoretically speaking) could reveal something about their identity that they took for granted. During the course of the study, I could never really elaborate any more on how, an idea that haunted me for a long time. To ease this feeling, I would simply tell myself to just keep painting, and the answer would reveal itself to me.

It took me up until the past month to realize that trying to force the audience to draw conclusions about their identifies using my representations was foolish. Each painting was, and could not have been otherwise, an extension of myself. Even with access to “scientifically objective” medical imaging, everything I made was always at least one step removed from the original source. That step contained predispositions exclusive to me no matter how accurate I tried to capture the subject. My finger prints are all over the paintings, both literally and figuratively. My project in its current state is trying to bridge the gap between my internal physiological self and the objects and ideas that exist outside my body. While I certainly hope for my audience to draw the same conclusions that I do, I feel that it’s too big of a stretch to expect each viewer to achieve such a revelation about themselves.

My favorite painting at the present time is Legs. The painting is covered from top to bottom in heavy brush strokes, palette knife slashes, ridges, smudges, and drips, and still looks like a pair of legs. I tend to hold these landmarks and artifacts of the painting process in high regard.”


Dan Deibler
Franklin and Marshall 2012
Digipen Institute of Technology
http://tunamatrix.blogspot.com/