Metro Pulse/Artbeat/Summer Faculty Exhibition

Comment
on this story

A summer faculty exhibition serves as antidote for mountain kitsch

by Heather Joyner

Long before there was the faux Swiss mess that is present-day Gatlinburg, alumnae of the Pi Beta Phi Fraternity purchased the 70 acres where Arrowmont now stands. In 1914, the bucolic locale—site for a small classroom building—must have seemed decidedly removed from the tempest brewing overseas. At what was then called the "Settlement School," area children were afforded basic education they might not have otherwise received. In addition to the school, the fraternity established Gatlinburg's first health clinic in 1920. When it was acknowledged that many of "the mountain people" (as they were referred to by Pi Beta Phi) were tremendously skilled at weaving and woodworking, a weaving teacher was brought in. Like a circuit riding preacher, that person also visited—on horseback—locals working at looms in their homes.

However implausible it might have seemed at the time, this early effort to support regional crafts and pass on knowledge would grow into an internationally respected arts and crafts program. At the end of the Second World War, University of Tennessee faculty members Ulsa Ubrecht and Marian Heard established and led summer workshops. Up until 1969, students lived in makeshift dormitories and shared meals as well as classes in facilities occupied by children during the school year. In 1970, a new educational complex with permanent equipment and work spaces opened its doors, and Arrowmont as we now know it was born. The 1980s found the not-for-profit school operating year-round and offering college-level credit for courses in drawing, painting, photography, and papermaking and book arts, in addition to traditional crafts. Although that first summer in the '40s saw approximately 50 students from 19 states (participating in either one- or two-week sessions taught by individuals also from throughout the country), the school today serves as many as 2,000 artists and craftspeople each year. Part of the programming is funded by the N.E.A. and the Tennessee Arts Commission.

As for the Arrowmont Gallery, if you're picturing glass cases with burlap arranged beneath homespun cups and saucers, you couldn't be farther off the mark. The current faculty exhibition includes an exciting variety of work by teachers from places as distant as Saskatoon in Canada and Chengdu, China. Don't let the not-even-Alpine No Way José Cantina across from Arrowmont's entrance fool you...discreetly situated beyond the hubbub of the Parkway is a world-class arts and crafts center hosting conferences and presenting substantial exhibits. The range of materials represented—including oil paint, Damascus steel, fossil whalebone, beads, wheel-thrown porcelain, and graphite—is alone impressive. Add to that some unusual perspectives and challenging ideas, and you have yourself a show well worth skipping the outlets to see.

Tanya Hartman (of Lawrence, Kan.) has created "Crazy Quilt: Homage to Magritte," an ink-on-paper piece divided into 18 sections. Each area of the drawing features somewhat domestic subjects—children's clothing, flowers, Pinocchio, etc.—combined with words that Hartman has chosen to produce a contradictory effect. For instance, an image grouping little girl panties, a dress, and a camisole shows each stamped with the word "bitch." It's surprisingly jarring. Hartman accompanies her imagery with phrases that sound plucked from a primer: "One sees differently the images and words in a painting" and "A word sometimes only serves to designate itself." The confrontation between representation and meaning is rarely so directly addressed. After Hartman's mischievous but heavy message, seeing Michael Hosaluk's carved wood is almost meditative. Horn-shaped with burn marks, his pieces split into halves and reveal interiors remarkably like hammered metal. Who knows what these objects are supposed to be or symbolize; they're simply fascinating-looking.

More detail-oriented, and "intimate" in that one must look closely, are works by Marilyn Da Silva and Harlan W. Butt (watch out...he's a Texan). Da Silva has crafted small copper and bronze "bowls" called "Holding Court I and II," both of which feature exquisitely small chairs. In one, five chairs sit poised around the vessel's rim, surrounding an acorn. In the other, a single chair has an acorn on its seat. What could be way too cute is instead almost haunting. Butt's "Earth Beneath Our Feet: Incense Burner #4," made of silver, enamel, and brass, is an impossibly beautiful round shape with the words "melancholy" and "nostalgia" alternately circling its neck. The lid sports carved leaves and a lizard. I'd almost forgotten what it is to covet small, fine things.

Among the ceramic pieces are Yih-Wen Kuo's glazed shapes resembling architecture (one with punched-out "windows" and remarkably like Breuer's Whitney Museum) and Pier Voulkos' "Red Box," made with Baltic-birch plywood and pearlescent polymer clay veneers. Paper sculpture, textile collage, photography, paintings, and other media round out the extensive offerings. Add to those names Knoxville favorites like Tom Riesing and Margaret Scanlan, and there's something for everyone. Yes, even in a town that seems to have sold its soul.