Haifa Bint-Kadi, Mosaic Artist, Tells Her Story

My youngest daughter recently told me that she thought my work had come full circle. Since I had already been an artist many years before she was even born, I wondered how she could make that observation. Apparently my mother had shared with her my very odd “art-making” activities from the time I could walk. I spent a great deal of time in nature. I was our neighborhood’s master tree climber. There was no canopy that had not seen me swaying, napping or sketching.  A 15-foot fall one day brought forth an immediate sanction from my parents, coupled with the hope that having the wind knocked out of me would forever end my career…to no avail.

Eel Mosaic Public Art, Smalti Mosaic,Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Public Park

Welded Recycled Steel from Water Towers, Oil Paint, 2013

When you’re an artist, it’s all about observation. I felt I was part of a secret world where I watched the hatching and growth of young chicks, I was fascinated by the textures and differing colors of bark in different stages of growth and collected bark peels from the ground to make rooftops for my various fairy houses. For me, nature was a sacred world that accepted me unconditionally and provided a safe space for reflection. I could belong, which was important for a first generation kid whose oddities and serious nature prevented me from making a good fit in any social circle.  On most of my childhood walks through the woods I would create tiny shrines, fairy houses and pole structures. I would use small pieces of wood, stones, feathers and ferns to make small constructions and shrines honoring my secret places in the woods. 

Eel Mosaic

I’m a classically trained mosaic artist, but like most artists, I explore a variety of other mediums like encaustic, painting, wabi-sabi and mixed-media.  I have been obsessed my entire life with collecting found objects, ephemera and in particular, objects from nature that seem to “speak” to me. I mostly look down when walking as I’ve never met a rusty object that I didn’t like, a habit that my children often bemoaned. I’m captivated by the physicality of nature objects and the histories they carry.  I continue to build shrines around or for objects that I feel are special, but in completely unexpected places like abandoned lots or on some weird building ledge. I try to position them in a way that honors them and gives pause for thought.

 

Sidewalk Surprises!

In the woods, I might put an interesting rock in the fork of a tree or I might tie a colorful bit of cloth on a branch. I’ve only recently begun showing objects from my work with hierotopy, basically creating the sacred in the profane or the creation of sacred spaces. Honestly, it’s only been very recently that a name has been created for such work, but the practice is ancient and has always been around. I was very lucky that I had parents who not only supported my collecting and my need to be in nature, but they celebrated every construction, sketch and my collections of objects. They made space for me as an artist and for my stuff!

I have two daughters who I also classify as creators and who were forced to live in my live-work loft which is like a giant cabinet of curiosities filled with shelves and shelves of mosaic tesserae, bird bones and nests, water-worn ceramics harvested from the Hudson River, tiny wooden tea caddies, vintage pencils and well you can imagine what fills the thousands of jars in my studio.

Sidewalk Mosaic: Art Intervention - Main Street, Recycled plates

2014-2015

I’m constantly exploring my cultural identities which are also connected to two very different yet similar diasporas. The Middle East, Spain, the Bahama Islands… I live in the knowledge that race is a construct so seeking identity is a common theme in my work…it changes and evolves and is never static. I feel the same way about my work. I question what “home” is and what one needs to construct a sense of place. For me, nature is that place where identity becomes unimportant as a philosophical or intellectual pursuit. In natural spaces all who worship are accepted.

Mazar Installation

 I have vast collections of product packaging from the Middle East which I also use to create constructions that challenge notions of orientalism by taking over power of the image.  I play with iconography from the Middle East in my Hamza Hand series as well as my shrine constructions using the vocabulary of art to reference cultural identities. Each one of my Hamza Hands tells a childhood story from countless diaries. I love story-telling and almost every work I do has some narrative quality. I also trace this back to when I would use storytelling as a way of connecting to others as a youth while keeping intact my protective armour. If you meet me, ask me to tell you a story…I love to tell them and I have plenty to tell, including my own.

Scholbohm: Chakra Labyrinth, Oil Paint, 2015

It’s complicated. As a Muslim, my spirituality is an essential part of my being, but I don’t believe that highly structured religious institutions are necessary for my spiritual practice, I can discover the sacred almost anywhere and I can create the sacred anywhere with a small reed construction or an inset of sidewalk mosaic or mosaic in the crack of a wall, which is why I recently removed my head covering or hijab. Did it make me less spiritual, not at all.  What I exhibited on the outside always had lived on the inside and it is the inside that I am most concerned with. I prefer to live my spirituality and connectedness to a Creator. I prefer to connect to others as myself, without a sort of proclamation which I felt my hijab had become. I’m not in the position of proclaiming anything to anyone….I’m still discovering everyday.

This is Week 21 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank you for reading and sharing Haifa’s story today. To see more of Haifa's work please click on

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Helen Nock, Natural Materials Sculptor & Glass Mosaic Artist, Tells Her Story

I often refer to myself as a mud pie kinda gal. Even though my formal training is in fine art, it didn’t take me long to discover an abiding love for materials and processes. I still love to paint in between the main studio practice - one informs the other, and I just love to experiment, full stop. As for mud pies, it’s not far off the mark because my story begins on a farm in the Yorkshire dales.

Seed

Mum and Dad finished their service in the RAF, got wed and settled down near Dad’s roots living in a rented old wooden bungalow. We were there for the first six years of my life wild and isolated. The isolated part could sometimes be a bit of a bummer but the rest was wonderful. Dad was hardly ever home and mum worked all the hours she was able. I spent many content days playing with chickens, pigs, and Pim, our Border Collie, and Billie the budgie. And, oh yes, putting  worms to bed between dock leaf blankets.

 

Hughes Birdbath

Pim was not keen on having her fur secretly trimmed in the outhouse (yes, the Dunny - we are going back over 50 years) nor attending make believe dinners made from dirt, but she did her best. The chickens, likewise, did not appreciate rides in my wood train, though I wore my scratches with pride. My creative practical Mum spent endless hours making a charming home and garden, and just about everything we needed out of very little.

Memorial and Me

That life of dirt and make-do-and-mend, surrounded by mysterious nature and dilapidation, and unspoken wonderings shows through in my work today. Fast forward to my late twenties without any formal qualifications and huge gaps in my education (Mum and Dad separated and life became somewhat nomadic for a single female parent trying to make ends meet in the late 50s and early 60s).

I joined a recreational pottery class. The inspirational tutor and artist saw my talent and nurtured it. From there I progressed to gathering my own studio resources to furnish a part-time clay crafting business alongside the day job which, at that time, turned into 20 years as a postie. By my mid-30s I had married, gained a mortgage and three cats, and still on the post I got a yearning for more than modeling clay and thought I might like to run workshops. Lack of accreditation was a significant barrier to my credibility so I joined a part-time A level art course where I discovered I could paint, and understand (just about all) academia. This was heady stuff, and I got seriously hooked on learning and achieving.

Horse to Water Birdbath 

My path continued from further to higher education, including a basic teaching and training course. I am so grateful for those days full of opportunities for unqualified adults to access education. My educational run concluded in my early forties with a BA in Fine Art. It was hard with many hurdles along the way, but I was on an unstoppable trajectory.

Working early shifts on the post allowed me to learn during the rest of the day but many times I would doze in lectures and barely scraped through assignments. I did not need to do it, I wanted to and I suppose this is a good juncture at which to express my heartfelt thanks, as well as some twinges of guilt, to my family and friends for losing the old Helen due to my determination to succeed.

Secret Cargo Wall

Many a mature student will tell you, the changes brought about by a higher education, in contrast to barely any, comes as a shock to those around them with inevitable periods of alienation for both sides. After graduating I was offered an unexpected post teaching and lecturing art to difficult-to-engage young adults. I did this for years and can tell you that teaching art everyday to unruly teenagers who are excluded from mainstream schooling makes one swat up on different genres and techniques at an unprecedented rate to be readily equipped to jump anywhere through Plans A to Z. It was an unexpected and revelatory part of my journey but I got here and, in the end became far, far richer for it and the kids.

At fifty I packed in teaching, wanting to establish my own practice while I still had the energy to climb a new set of rungs. I already rented my studio based in our old town quarry: it’s five acres of wildlife and historical industrial sites hosts an art and craft community and was highly influential in my new direction as well as in total harmony with my earthy, mud pie spirit. 

First Show at Study Gallery

Without any business plan I was sort of free-floating and a bit dazed after the all-consuming teaching pressure was lifted. It so happened that our resident blacksmith was inundated with work and swooped in to offer me part-time employment to help ease his workload in return for some training and a small wage whilst I found myself. This became another fantastic experience. I became addicted to the furnace and I was good. Alas, I was too old to become a proper blacksmith but I got some serious skills under my belt and, again, did not look back.

During my creative time at the forge ideas for combinations of metal designs and interesting surfaces started to hatch. Mosaic was the obvious choice and the furniture and sculpture naturally followed as a neat and sustainable collaboration alongside our individual practices.

Solstice

Meanwhile, I developed my first small body of studio work for the garden and was discovered by curators of a gallery boutique in Bournemouth. They invited me submit at their designer-maker show at the Poole Gallery in Dorset. It was at this prestigious venue - my coming out party - I received valuable feedback that spurred me on and, not least, including some voting with pockets. I continued to experiment with the mosaic method, combining a range of materials and techniques. Indeed, my first table surfaces were made from material found in the quarry and along our coastline, and some of my studio ceramics.

Later, I explored the inclusion of stained glass, creating a variety of understated earthy Bling features. The light through and around glass holds an abiding fascination for me and I try to incorporate an element of it wherever the light might play to advantage. I love subtle inclusions and surprise juxtapositions. 

Today, I continue to show my work through a small selection of good venues and the rest of my work comes from private commissions. I am grateful for this gift and to all those unexpected teachers, challenges and opportunities along the way, and to be fortunate to earn my living from what I love to do.

Tangerine Window

The weather, and weight and industrial quality of it all gets a bit tough sometimes …but I can always return to painting.

Fuzz Trying to Sleep

That’s the nuts and bolts of my journey. My work speaks for the arty details I have not included.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Brenda Smoak for including me in Artists Tell Their Stories. It certainly has been an interesting, even stretching exercise, in attempting to articulate a potted tale about my journey.

This is Week 15 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank you for reading and sharing Helen's story today! You can contact Helen via email at fatbats@gmail.com or connect with her through the following sites to see more of her work:

http://www.helen-nock.co.uk

https://www.flickr.com/photos/junkbird/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Helen-Nock/267472643265071

Arturo Ho, Mixed Media Artist, Tells His Story

As a working artist, I am blessed to have the freedom to do what I love the most—to be with people and create something special. The opportunity to create, connect, and build relationships with others defines me. Art is a vehicle for making the world a better place. I use art to serve and connect with many communities and strive to bring out the best in them. 

I express myself in all aspects of my life through art. I have made works on paper, murals, mosaics, permanent installations, designs for posters/books, taught classes, collaborated with non-profit organizations, community centers, detention centers, public schools, and individuals. 


My work is not confined to a specific medium because I am open to and inspired by many positive influences and ideas of expression. That is the reason I am excited about art; there are always new possibilities.

Working with youth keeps me informed and relevant. Working with people and communities allows me the opportunity to share my knowledge and embrace new ideas and thoughts. This kind of work excites my creative and expressive side of the art making process.

I am also blessed to be able to make connections and build lasting friendships through the interactions that come with working in a collaborative process. It is through these opportunities that I have been able to focus my energy and passion into developing into the type of artist that I feel most comfortable being.

Thank you to all who have given me the opportunity to share my passion of art with you. I feel that every one of us has a truly good side and a special gift to share with the world. We must find a way to spread this gift whether it is through art, music, dance, or other mediums of expression.

To see more of Arturo's work and connect with him, please visit his website. This is Week 46 of 52 Artists in 52 Weeks. Thank you for reading and sharing Arturo's story today!