|
Sunday, May 2, 2004
Artist's run of the mill is anything but
Copyright © 2004 Blethen Maine Newspapers Inc. | ||||||||||||||
 |
Also on this page: BLAINE HOUSE CONFERENCE ON MAINE'S CREATIVE ECONOMY | |||||||||||||
LEWISTON — Jonathan Mess is all about rebirth. The Buckfield artist enjoys taking found objects and giving them new life, new context and an entirely new frame of reference. As such, he's the perfect choice to serve as the de facto artist-in-residence for this week's Blaine House Conference on Maine's Creative Economy, which will attract more than 600 people to the Bates Mill complex in Lewiston. Armed with data and brimming with ideas, policymakers, economic strategists, downtown developers, arts advocates, creative entrepreneurs and others will gather over two days to talk about Maine's cultural resources and brainstorm ways the state can encourage growth in its creative economic sectors. In style and substance, Mess is symbolic of their efforts. He's a young art-entrepreneur who came to Maine because of the state's creative spirit. In his work, he takes what is old and makes it new. Since February, the 29-year-old artist and art teacher has been scavenging the bowels of the mill, collecting discarded machine parts and throw-away items and incorporating them in a sculptural installation that will serve as the centerpiece for the conference. In its final form, the installation will consist of several large panels that will hang from the ceiling of the mill, reflecting its past while imagining its future. "I am taking all the remnants of the industrial revolution and turning it back into art. I am re-creating it, reinventing it and redefining it," said Mess, who teaches art at Leavitt Area High School in Turner. "Way back when, the Bates Mill made textiles. This conference is about the future and thinking ahead, and what are we going to do with all these old buildings all over Maine? I am taking something that is considered refuse, and I have a vision for it." Mess got the idea several months ago when a friend told him that the conference was coming to Lewiston. His original idea was to concoct an art installation of found objects in vacant storefront windows, with one leading to another down Lisbon Street. The empty storefronts worked as a metaphor for the past and future, and also provided an ideal showcase. He assumed people attending the conference would walk around downtown, and his art would give them something to look at and consider. He proposed it to friends at Rinck Advertising, the Auburn agency that is helping the Maine Arts Commission organize and coordinate the conference. The folks at Rinck liked the idea, and suggested he take it to the next level. Instead of completing the installation in vacant storefronts, why not make the mill itself part of the art? Right on, Mess concurred. He met with the mill manager, who signed off on the idea and gave him a key. Mess had access to all unoccupied areas of the sprawling complex, which once made blankets, rugs and other textiles. Since the mill went dormant, various businesses have opened, and Lewiston has plans for reusing the mill in a number of ways, including studio and living space for artists. But it remains mostly empty. For weeks, Mess wandered the rooms and hallways, taking stock of what was there and forming ideas. Eventually, he carted everything he wanted to a work space in the corner of a second floor wing and began his assembly. In its final form, the piece will encompass 15 panels. Each panel's base is a large wooden window frame, to which he has attached long strips of dusty brown Jacquard cards. Named for a French industrial inventor, each card is punched with a specific pattern of small holes. Inserted into machines, the cards dictated a decorate weave for a blanket, rug or other textile that the mill produced. Mess found bin after bin of the old cards - thousands of them, with different punch-out patterns and styles. After attaching the cards to the frame, he laid them on the floor and placed industrial scraps on top. He scattered bobbins, spindles, small tools, gears, nuts, bolts, screws, brushes, knives - anything he could find. He then covered the mass of stuff in free-form painted patterns, mixing vibrant colors and styles. When the paint dried, he removed the industrial scraps, leaving their imprint and outline on the cards below. To some panels, he affixed leftover fabric. Others he left bare except for the paint. With the exception of many cans of spray paint, Mess found all his material in the mill. It's totally abstract, raw and haphazard, full of contemporary sensibilities and historical references. And for Mess, it's an appropriate medium for his personal artistic quest. "I love the found object and the inherent story it tells. I love to take it and give it a new story. I love to re-birth it and give it a new history," he says. That process of rebirth is the hallmark of Mess' work. "He tends to be very contemporary and abstract, and he also is more interested and fascinated with objects that people tend to discard. He sees value in them," says artist friend and co-worker Ronnie Decker. The qualities that make his art engaging also make him a good teacher, she adds. Students like Mess because of his energy, which he reflects back on them. "One of our students said he's kind of like a hummingbird. He never holds still. He has lots of energy, lots of passion. He is one of those who is so impassioned about the arts, it's contagious. The kids get it. They catch his passion." Peter Rinck, the 45-year-old president of Rinck Advertising, owns three pieces of Mess' art. Much of the artist's other work tends to be small, compared to the large, multi-piece installation at Bates Mill. A personal favorite of Rinck's is a photograph of a nude that incorporates rulers. He saw the piece while Mess was putting it together. When the artist finished it, Rinck bought it. Rinck likes Mess' work because it's layered in content and meaning. It's odd and different, but not esoteric or random. "He's very modern and edgy, but also accessible. I can look at his work and interpret it in my own way, and I feel like I get it. The piece with the rulers and the nude, you drill down through the layers and find meaning. It rewards you for each observation," Rinck says. Mess hopes something similar happens when people view his work this week at the Bates Mill. "It's a series, and a very readable series," he says, hovering over a panel still under construction. "But each one is very different and each one has its own story. I'm here to tell a story." Staff Writer Bob Keyes can be contacted at 791-6457 or at:
|
||||||||||||||
