About Glyph

Glyph. n. Any computer-generated character regarded in terms of its shape and bit pattern. An image used in the visual representation of characters; roughly speaking, how a character looks. A font is a set of glyphs.

I love letter forms. Interesting fonts and typefaces, elegant calligraphy, letter stencils, text-based street art, even a well-crafted tag will catch my eye.

The power of language to inform, connect and create is a longstanding obsession for me. In my previous career as a speech language pathologist, I worked with adults to rebuild communication skills after illness or injury. The structured combination of sounds or letters forms the basis of information exchange and social connection. So as I see it, these minimal information units possess potential energy.

It was after I saw the documentary Helvetica that I realized the key to addressing this idea of potential linguistic energy lay in the letter’s visual form. Helvetica, directed by Gary Hustwit and released on the font’s 50^th anniversary in 2007, is a marvelous story of the font’s creation and subsequent domination of public space owing to its fresh, rational form with balanced positive and negative space. In this documentary, something easily overlooked as trivial or mundane is re-framed as a powerful, even controversial tool: visual form matters.

In the Glyph series, the potential creative energy of the letter is explored using abstracted letter forms (yes, in Helvetica) re-envisioned as organic shapes. Positive and negative space is reversed with glass coursing out from the negative space letter form. The viewer is offered a visual puzzle: a letter fragment from which to discern the whole.

Pieces in the first Glyph series in 2007 were cut from vitreous glass tile in a palette of steel blues and grass greens.

Coming back to Glyph recently, I have refined the work by using sheet glass, clarifying the cutting and adding a tiny 24k gold element in the negative space. As one of my Mosaic Elements series, Glyph is a bold graphic composition with endless creative potential.

See all Glyph Mosaic Elements

About Verge

Two commissions in the past year have given me the chance to think about place and landscape. I took as the starting point for Inscribe (2010) the form of the tiny oxbowed prairie river that meandered by the farm where I grew up in Canada. I became captivated by this little river's marking of time: first, in the constant moment-to-moment flow that invites the floating of twigs and leaves, watching until they disappear around the bend; and second, the glacially paced century-by-century erosion that changes the river's form and path, ultimately creating the gorgeous yet self-defeating oxbows. To use Andy Goldsworthy's term, this oxbow I grew up on has definitely become one of my 'obsessive forms.'

Inscribe 2010 (detail)

The second project, Enfold, also involves water marking time.

Enfold was commissioned for a cottage on a cliff overlooking the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia, Canada. With the highest tides in the world, there is a never-ending cycle of water rising and falling. This along with the highly changeable coastal weather patterns creates an extremely dynamic outdoor experience.

When established painter Byron Gin invited me to develop a 2-person exhibit at Uncommon Ground, we decided to use the local land/waterscape as our visual starting point and see where our two different media, styles and interests took us.

Lake Michigan has a very different function for me near my Evanston-based studio and home. There are no tides, no constant flow, nor pounding surf and only occasionally crashing waves. The lake is primarily about space and color/reflectance rather than time. In the Chicago area, the built environment borders the lake, containing and even encroaching on the lake's shoreline. At its margins, water reflects sky and splashes rock. It is these interactions at the boundaries that catch my attention.

Calling the show "Lake Effects," Byron and I have developed new pieces that clearly connect to one another with lake-inspired forms and restrained palettes of blues through grays and whites. In Byron's spare compositions we are invited to look again at familiar lakeshore objects and birds which float on textured, layered backgrounds. Abstracted from a complex landscape, these familiar forms take on new significance.

My work is similarly spare in composition, glass floating in cement board. My interest is in considering the function of the lake as a blank yet dynamic palette, marking the space between sky and land. As I focused on the blues of lake and sky, I was captivated by the limitless variations in blues and grays, sometimes changing moment-to-moment, sometimes day-to-day. Verge offers discrete views of moments in time, reading the lake as a transitional space: water at the verge of sky and land.

Enfold

Enfold is a recent commission for clients from the Bay of Fundy, Nova Scotia, Canada.

Enfold (2010) 17" x 20" glass, gold, grout on MDF

Enfold offers an abstract connection with the raw, spectacular beauty of the Bay of Fundy—incorporating forms inspired by sky, rock and water. The shimmer and shine of glass and gold reflects the constantly changing tides, mists and weather at Ross Creek.

Enfold refers to both the visual experience of being surrounded by sky and water and to the warmth and shelter enjoyed by those staying in the clients' cottage perched at the cliff's edge at Ross Creek overlooking the Bay of Fundy, Nova Scotia.

Full and additional detail images available on my fine art portfolio.

Art and Healthcare

I am very interested in art and healthcare. Having spent more than a decade working in Chicago area hospitals, first as a speech-language pathologist and then as a rehab program adminstrator, I have thought a lot about optimizing recovery and outcomes in healthcare settings. Focusing on creating optimal 'healing environments' makes so much sense. Hospital environments are impersonal and intimidating, patients often expressed the feeling of a loss of control in this unfamiliar, regimented setting. And, as a healthcare employee, I was constantly aware of the aesthetic void of hospitals, literally craving natural elements, fresh color palettes and real art (badly framed prints of sunflowers and water lilies didn't cut it).

So I was delighted when Float was commissioned for the new Loyola Medical Center in Burr Ridge, Illionois.

Float (2011) detail from panel 3

I believe art can play an integral role in healing and recovery, providing important visual input that encourages cognitive engagement. Thinking beyond what we can see and exploring the world of the possible forms new synaptic connections, changing the brain and contributing to a rich life experience. Compositions in glass are uniquely able to capture and sustain visual attention owing to intense color saturation, literal depth in the glass and extreme contrasts between matte grout and sparkling glass. Glass compositions are dynamic as ambient light interacts with the work causing different patterns of reflectance.

As I've been reading about current trends in healthcare and arts, I am excited to find that art is being prioritized and funded in healthcare architecture and design. Art is being recognized as an important tool in the healing and recovery process. Using patient survey methodologies, researchers are investigating patient art preferences and developing 'evidence-based art programs' accordingly. Recent research by Upali Nanda et al of American Art Resources is finding patient preferences for representational, nature imagery. These researchers are concluding that art in healthcare should be drawn from this genre. In article abstracts, there is mention of art as a means of 'escape' and 'distraction' for patients.

Clearly such research initiatives are of value given both the data-driven nature of the health-care industry and the challenge of developing art programs that meet a wide variety of patient and employee preferences, as diverse as those of the general population. However, given my background in cognitive rehabilitation and my decade working in that environment, I contend that there is another angle to consider in researching and designing art programs: art as a mechanism for cognitive stimulation which goes beyond distraction to engagement. In the same way that healthcare professionals have attended to the negative effects of bedrest, we need to explore the potential neurophysiological benefits of cognitive engagement in the hospital setting. Artists are uniquely suited to offer novel stimuli to engage another neurological system. Limiting art in healthcare to a very specific genre is a lost opportunity for the creative engagement of artists and viewers (both patients and healthcare workers) in exploring new dimensions and realms that could simultaneously offer cognitive stimulation and respite from the impersonal hospital environment. I would love to see progressive, engaging art programs become an integral part of healing environments.

Float

Float is my first commission for a healthcare setting and it was a first in developing a concept for an unbuilt space. Most commissioned projects start by considering ways to refer to elements in either the external, physical surroundings or an interior, conceptual context. In this case, the project art consultant gave me general parameters: she identified pieces from the Flow series as the starting point for the project. Together we developed a color palette to coordinate with the planned palette for the space. And then she set me free.

One of my interests about art in healthcare is whether cognitive stimulation can become an integral part of a healing environment. My work is always about finding that balance between aesthetic appeal and cognitive engagement. Float is a simple, flowing pattern (certainly making reference to flowing water) with a shimmering sphere that literally floats through the 5 separate pieces in the composition. At a glance, a viewer might see shimmering glass, strong contrasts of matte grout and gloss glass and a saturated palette of earth tones. With further attention, a viewer may see that the same shimmering sphere is present in each panel and trace its trajectory across the pieces. A tiny trace of white gold offers yet another abstract connection between the 5 pieces, another visual path to explore. In offering a coherent visual pattern, I hope that Float serves as both respite from the stresses of a medical setting and as a new imaginative context that can engage another mind.

Complete set of images of Float can be seen at: heatherhancockart.com

Fabulous Opening Reception & Notes to Self

It was a truly fabulous opening reception for my first official solo show, Imagining Mind. What an extraordinary privilege it is as an artist to get to call everyone to "come see." I am so grateful to the many people who took time out of very busy lives to come see and talk art. The room was buzzing with non-stop visiting from the minute I walked in (at some point a gallery attendant came and took my coat and backpack) until the wrap-up 3 hours later—and it wasn’t smalltalk. People wanted the full story behind my aesthetic, concepts and materials. Multiple people wanted copies of my artist statement—when does that happen!? (note to self: have enough copies of your artist statement on hand). It was an amazing cross-section of people from all different times and places in my life and felt like a mini-reunion with many who have followed my work over several years (note to self: have friends lined up to host and connect people). I was so utterly absorbed in conversation and guests' indepth engagement with the work that I didn't manage to get a single picture of the event. Argh!! What 22-year-old would let that happen (note to self: don't designate your husband to take pix)!? So you’ll have to take it from me, it was a magical, buzzing evening filled with good friends, great conversation and my art.

Native Indian Artforms

Last summer we took our kids hiking in the Canadian Rockies. Post-hiking, we wandered through tourist shops in Jasper. While the kids did extensive research in the stuffed animal section, I found myself captivated by images of Native Indian art. I briefly contemplated why this caught my attention. But then the moment was gone and I completely forgot about it.

Later in the fall, after posting images of the new series 'Realize' to Facebook, a viewer commented that the work reminded her of WestCoast First Nations art. Native Indian Art was added to my 'To Research' list.

Realize2 (2009) 24" x 24"

When I eventually got around to reading Jim Gilbert's Learning by Designing Pacific Northwest Coast Native Indian Art, I began to understand the underlying concepts and techniques that were catching and holding my attention. Gilbert reviews 3 core concepts in his brief introduction to Native Indian philosophy: 1. Constant change: everything is either coming together or coming apart; 2. Wholeness: all things are inter-related; 3. Pattern: change occurs repetitively in cycles and patterns.

When it comes to art+design theory, Gilbert states that Pacific NW Native Indian artists develop art according to a strict set of rules and principles that govern the organization, compositions and color of work. Once the design system is mastered, the artist has a flexible vocabulary with infinite creative potential. The foundational form is the 'ovoid,' a powerful shape, conveying notions of continuity and contained power. Gilbert traces the evolution of all other forms from the ovoid. Complex exterior formlines, interior design elements, finelines and units are combined to pull the viewer into the self-contained, animated universe of the design.

Things that are staying with me:

1. My abstracted nature-inspired visual language is constantly evolving. I am always looking to expand and extend my vocabulary and love the idea of this endlessly flexible vocabulary.

2. The intentional use of negative space is something that I spend a lot of time thinking about with grout elements. Formlines and interior spaces can remain solid black and are given equal importance in the overall composition to the white or colored design elements, units and finelines. 

3. I see the circle form as one of my "obsessive forms" (an Andy Goldsworthy term) and have watched it change from centered and symmetrical (i.e., Trace (2005) to offset and irregular (i.e., Impel Study1 (2009). This new reading of the foundational ovoid form as conveying contained power and cyclical continuity is so compelling. Gilbert talks about the significance of ovoid form and nonconcentric interior shapes to suggest movement and latent activity that threatens to break out.

4. Depth or perspective is limited or portrayed with simple techniques (ie foregrounded/backgrounded elements) in Native Indian art. Gilbert reads this as intentional and important to avoid losing clarity in the designs. My current work imagines mind and innumerable synaptic connections; my goal is to use depth and layering to imagine the the immense complexity of synaptic connections.

5. I would also love to find the equivalent of the continuous external formline that contains the design. My current work uses the circle frame to demarcate attention or focus or clarity. My search for authentic and coherent exterior formlines continues.

Art Chicago 2010

To delay the onset of bleary-eyed, sensory overload, I have adopted the 'trawling' technique for navigating large art fairs: moving at a brisk pace, I scan without trying to take it all in and see what jumps out at me.

Certainly, knowing the artist catches my attention.Theodore Boggs and Russ White were showing work with Jettison Quarterly and Brent Houston had a piece in the Swimming Pool Project Space, all part of the NEXT show of emerging galleries.

Generally it is color or unusual abstract forms or interesting surfaces that make me circle back for a second look. And there were two highlights for me at Art Chicago this year. First, I discovered Alex Couwenberg. Couwenberg's compositions are spare with midcentury influences apparent in his forms and precision painted lines. I am always drawn to an artist who has achieved this level of fluency with an abstract visual vocabulary. Couwenberg constructs ordered but complex and vibrantly layered images. Reading up on him, I found that he mentored with Karl Benjamin. Benjamin is associated with the California hard-edge painting, concerned with economy of form, fullness of color, neatness of surface and nonrelational arrangements of forms on canvas.

I was literally scanning the last aisle of Art Chicago when I came across Rex Ray's work. I have only seen his work online and it was great to see his massive, spectacularly detailed canvases up close. This is another artist with an extensive design-influenced abstract visual vocabulary. There's no artist statement on his site, but I've read elsewhere that he creates images that he finds beautiful. Love that.

I am still thinking about the extraordinary craftsmanship of both these artists. I need to research the California 'finish fetish' of the 1970s--the 1970s car culture of Alberta has to be relevant here. And, I will continue on my quest to expand and clarify my visual vocabulary. While forms are evolving, my need to make logical relational arrangements of forms remains central to my work, suggesting that while I have moved away from clinical work based on an intellectualist linguistic model, I am nevertheless still searching for syntax.

Connecting Places: A Glass Mosaic Fireplace Commission

I'm working on one of my biggest--and possibly most challenging--commissions to date.

The project: a floor-to-ceiling glass mosaic element (16" wide) offset behind a woodburning stove. One wall of the room is all windows overlooking the Annapolis Valley and Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia, Canada. It's an extraordinarily beautiful landscape with constantly shifting weather patterns sweeping in off the Bay of Fundy or across the island from the Atlantic. The home is built on a mountain and is high enough that the valley literally disappears into the mist when the fog or rainclouds roll in. As the clouds lift this ridiculously beautiful valley is revealed stretching for 20+ miles to the next ridge.

I want the piece to connect to this amazing landscape: the intense greens of lush growth, copper of the iron-rich earth and the blues of water and sky as well as this constant visual phenomena of emerging and disappearing and re-emerging.

I also want the piece to connect with the prairie landscape where my clients--and I--are originally from.

My clients: my parents. These uber-patrons (and parents), have given me full artistic autonomy for this project. I am to make what I want. And, so with that freedom comes great responsibility. Ack! This has to be a fabulous piece that coheres visually and psychologically.

I have decided to use the outline of the tiny, oxbowed, shallow river that flows past our farm in eastern Alberta as the central form in the piece. This form is gorgeous and irregular and constantly changing albeit imperceptibly. I am always aware of change as the only constant. It also points to the notion of being shaped by place. There is inevitable evolution out from a given place: the original form is clearly imprinted but also changing across time, as the river form itself has been changing and evolving over the eons.

Neuroaesthetics

So I have just discovered the Journal of Neuroaesthetics on an awesome site called Artbrain. This is a tremendous relief: there are others out there who obsess about similar things. Like, how attention forms the basis for our interaction with the world; how art changes the brain; how language and thought interact; how aesthetics may augment learning etc. etc. etc.  Wikipedia states that this new subfield was defined in 2002 as the study of "the neural basis for the contemplation and creation of a work of art."

This is exactly where I belong. More as I explore.

Embodied Consciousness

I just happened across "Out of Our Heads" by Alva Noe, Professor of Philosophy at the University of California, Berkley. What a fantastic, accessible read. This all resonates so completely for me. In short, Noe proposes a theory of consciousness as embodied experience, achieved through a combination of perception of and interaction with stimuli in the external world. He moves the discussion of conscious experience past a brain-centric view to one in which the broader domains of body, immediate and extended physical and social contexts are equally important. Brain function alone is insufficient to explain consciousness. We have evolved within physical and social contexts and are therefore uniquely equipped to perceive, interact with and interpret the world we inhabit. While there's clearly still a place for the detailed theories about specific cognitive and linguistic functions, Noe's rejection of a purely intellectualist approach to cognition, language and consciousness feels coherent and meaningful. As a speech language pathologist, neurolinguistic and psycholinguistic models gave structure to the evaluation process, but seemed artificial, rigid and disconnected from the reality of the lives of people when it came to treatment planning. Intervention always needed to start with the individual in context. Only by putting together an individual and their changed neurological system with their full physical and social context was there potential for making meaningful change in lived experience.

Art and Attention

On the Origin of Stories: Evolution, Cognition, and Fiction by Brian Boyd I read On the Origins of Stories this winter and am about to start it again. I highly recommend this book and found that it helped me connect my fascination with cognition and language with my obsession with visual art in an expanded way.  Here's my take-away: Art is about competing for and holding viewers' attention. An artist's goal is to engage an audience and then provide ongoing visual challenge. My work is essentially metacognitive in approach. A preliminary aesthetic connection opens the way for viewer engagement. Encoded conceptual content serves to maintain viewers’ attention across time. Visual art is a powerful or 'hypernormal' visual stimulus that encourages cognitive play and engagement. Thinking beyond what we can see, exploring the world of the possible changes the brain and is potentially critical to adult life. In this way, I see my visual art as being very parallel to my clinical work as a speech-language pathologist.

My thinking on this goes a step further to argue that mosaics in particular have the potential to be an extremely powerful medium. Reflectivity and intense color saturation, literal depth and extreme contrasts, the inherent incorporation of light as an element all make this medium ideally suited to capture visual attention. The question that I constantly required myself to be clear about as a clinician ("why am I doing what I'm doing?") seems equally valid when using this powerful visual medium.

Blog Thought Experiment: Written Language and Cognition

I've been reluctant to blog. There is, at present, a cacophony of voices online. Everyone with a personal spinand perspective competing for everyone else's attention. I've opted out.

But something keeps coming back to me. I am very interested in written language as a tool to extend, organize and clarify thought. Written language allows us to move beyond the present moment to consider the past or anticipate the future, provides a stable, permanent symbolic representation to reflect upon, creates the opportunity for more formal thought in extracting principles from decontextualized ideas, facilitates finding new connections in ideas and information that would otherwise exceed our working memory capacity.

I've always struggled with writing. Somewhere during undergrad, I learned to write in an extremely passive, dense scientific style. I am generally trying to cram my philosophy of everything into each sentence. Writing is arduous enough that my sketchbook/journal is full of written fragments, abbreviated phrases and shorthand. So what happens if I push myself to document what's on my mind in written form using this blog as an external stable memory store. This then is my own personal thought experiment: a test of my belief in the power of external symbolic representations to reflect, extend and expand thought. Here goes.