Tasha Ostrander’s meditative process turns artist into magician
ARTIST STUDIO BY RIC LUM | PHOTOS BY KATE RUSSELL
al•che•my—any magical power or process of transmuting a common substance, usually of little value, into a substance of great value.
Rhythmic, melodic, and harmonious structures from the simplest of materials and methods belie Tasha Ostrander’s process-oriented constructions of paper, pigment, and varnish. They reflect transformation of the inner self and the shimmering fractals of nature—spatial magnitude, if you will, an extension of the spirit and body in several dimensions of space. Like a paper wasp chewing organic materials into pulp and constructing a complex geometric nest, Ostrander’s art is a daily practice that embraces and encompasses repetitive acts, discipline, the tedium of creating large tondos, mandala forms from small slivers of paper. A bigger reality emerges—that of balance between the spiritual and material worlds.
Describing the work of Joseph Beuys and the Arte Povera group, architect Peter Zumthor said, “What impresses me is the precise and sensuous way they use materials. It seems anchored in an ancient, elemental knowledge about man’s use of materials, and at the same time to expose the very essence of these materials, which is beyond all culturally conveyed meaning.” That describes Ostrander’s work to a T.
Her love of alchemy began at age 16, during a six-month darkroom apprenticeship with photographer Walter Chappell. Her fascination with photography took to the dark side, the red-lit room where the alchemy of printing, versus taking photos, developed.
From left: Black Mandala and Blue Speckled Mandala (2010), paper and ink, and detail of Seventy-Three in a Moment (1996), consisting of 26,645 handmade paper butterflies.
“It was much more about the subtle nuance of chemical proportions, temperature variation, friction upon the emulsion, or the time the print sat in the developer tray to intensify contrast in the tonal range,” she explains. “I went on to study photography for many years, but felt more in love with camera equipment itself than the pictures taken with it. Looking back on this detachment, I realize it was the process and not the result that captured my attention. Alchemy and transformation of material would enter my subconscious, and I would use those basic concepts to learn to extract both wonder and healing from the idea that life force and material can be transformed into a higher statements of expression and environment.”
Ostrander went on to study at the Maine Photographic Workshops residency program in Rockport, eventually receiving her BFA from the University of New Mexico, where she also studied multimedia installation under Steve Barry. He encouraged Ostrander to use whatever material she wanted, to explore “thing making.” In 1984-85 she printed images for the noted filmmaker and photographer Willard Van Dyke for his retrospective at the New Mexico Museum of Art in Santa Fe.
In 1994 Ostrander had her first solo show, Chorus, at Linda Durham Contemporary Art in Santa Fe, and her first group show, The Inner Mounting Flame, at Charlotte Jackson Fine Art. Through the 1990s until now, she has had solo and group shows at galleries including James Kelly Contemporary, SITE Santa Fe, Turner Carroll, the New Mexico Museum of Art in Santa Fe, as well as at Galerie Nine in Amsterdam and I-20 Gallery in New York.
Commitment, process, and practice have been important aspects of her work, and during the last decade and a half Ostrander has produced very large installations in which alchemy and transformation of material are front and center. “I would use those basic concepts to learn to extract both wonder and healing from the idea that life force and material can be transformed into a higher statement of expression and environment,” she says. “Also, as in alchemy, there is a constant shift in the perception of micro- and macrocosms. In the spiritual sense, this gives great credence and power to the ability to observe that which is base and simple, and to be able to reinterpret these things into large lessons or large environmental transformations. An example of this thinking would be the idea that through a commitment of time and the willingness to repeat the same action over and over, a beautiful pattern could be revealed, and in turn becomes a symbolic manifestation of wholeness.”
At one time Ostrander also studied Japanese porcelain, throwing what she says were hundreds of bowls. “The glazing and firing were of little interest, as I had no interest in the bowls themselves,” she recalls. “But the pure challenge of dealing with a material that has little forgiveness in terms of cracking and breaking, and the delicacy of the traditional forms, required a lot of concentration and physical balance. Again, the process informs more of a personal composure, and it is not the end-objects that make the experience valuable.”
A magnificent and telling work that exemplifies the spatial magnitude of her practice is a 10-foot-diameter tondo covered with 26,645 handmade paper butterflies, constructed of photocopied butterfly images from old field manuals, representing the 26,645 days of an average human life. Her current work takes the mandala form to a reflective, calm state, empty of content and entered through the process of working with the material.
“These pieces are meant to have integral beauty, and to be what they are without added explanation,” she says. “All of the ideas mentioned above live through this new work, but this time I do feel attached to the end result as objects. They are made to bestow a sense of calmness and centeredness to the environments in which they are placed. In these pieces are many of the concepts of the Japanese philosophy wabi-sabi—simplicity, economy, austerity, intimacy, and appreciation of the ingenious integrity of natural objects and processes.” Art that truly reflects the artist who lives her art.
From the Fall 2011 / Winter 2012 issue
