The Place I Am / Clematis Collective / 9.27.2022 - 10.14.2022

The Clematis Collective

The Clematis Collective grew out of the Hear/d residency, where we found the open safe space to discuss mental health was not only conducive to creativity but also a valuable social support, especially during the tough first year of the pandemic. We wanted to carry on past the residency and share our experiences with others, so the Clematis Collective was formed. We have grown since our founding, welcoming new members and are now a group of women, 2SLGBTQ+, and BIPOC multidisciplinary artists that have bonded through experiences struggling with mental health and a desire to carry on a more open and honest conversation. We aim to be a framework for each other, where women and gender diverse artists can thrive and grow. Like the clematis flower, we blossom when supported.

The Place I Am

The Place I Am explores nature’s healing capabilities as a coping mechanism. As a group the Clematis Collective has bonded through our experiences struggling with mental health. We have found solace and connection in nature through shared - yet separate - experiences over the last two years. Nature allows space for us to process our experiences and to find connection in times of disconnect from others. The exhibition investigates our understanding of the places we work and live in, and by extension, the idea of ‘home’, through nature. Our creative processes help keep us connected to the natural world through difficult and changing times and remind us of the ways we have incorporated these spaces into our lives, expanding what home can mean. The Place I Am includes a variety of works, each an individual collective member’s response to our place; in ourselves and in our larger ecosystems.

01- Rachel Denbina, In Flux, It’s Still You, Illustrated Collage, Fall 2022

In Flux, It’s Still You was created during a time of my life this year where I was faced with a lot of changes. Throughout it all I’ve been left wondering about so many aspects of my own personality and goals in life, and where my home and anchors truly are. Nature and my lived environment have been something of a paradox in that they provide a constant sense of connection, while retaining aspects of their ephemerality. Through the support of loved ones and some inner reflection about my connection with nature I feel like I’m finally starting to ground myself. These illustrated collages represent aspects of my life and imagination in different moments, coming together to form a sense of identity and emotion in the present moment, as I continue to find myself in flux.

02- Laura Olive, Can You See Me?, Yarn, beads, embroidery thread, Fall 2022

A sweater for camouflage, a sweater for fashion, a completely silly addition to your outdoor wardrobe. The body of the sweater was made by crocheting abstract ripple shapes that were then filled in between with contrasting colours and accessorized with embroidery and beads to create the impression of Elbow River reflecting a bright sunset through the dark water.

When I was in high school I used to work in a sports store (despite being anything but a jock) and when hunting season came around I remember the variety of camouflage patterns we’d bring in. These slightly differing variations of green, on green, on brown (or occasionally white). How does one decide what will best trick the animals? But on the other hand, each year we would also carry more products in pink camo, this completely useless yet strangely compelling pattern. An appropriation of a utilitary material that completely took away its usefulness through sexism and tackiness. To me though, it was a strangely comforting escape from the hyper-masculinity of an aisle filled with objects to help kill things and bottles of animal urine.

With such inspiration I decided to find my own take on this pattern, one that thinks about texture, sparkle and silhouette before any utilitary meaning. Instead, it’s an accessory to natural spaces, an over-the-top way to feel a little closer to a beautiful body of water.

Laura Olive, Can You See Me?, Yarn, beads, embroidery thread, Fall 2022

03- Vivian Smith, Time on a String, Porcelain, Glaze, Fibre, 2022

Discrete forms, delicate, ephemeral, precious and similar in size and shape, each with a hidden interior. They are connected with a thread and grouped into repeating clusters of five and two. Five plus two equals seven, seven plus seven equals two. The forms can be counted and are finite.

Vivian Smith, Time on a String, Porcelain, Glaze, Fibre, 2022

04- Elise Findlay ,The Source, Embroidery thread on fabric, Fall 2022

Emerging from a reaction to stress and isolation during the pandemic alongside a renewed reliance on the healing capabilities of being out in nature, this work is part record of time, part appreciation for the waterways that sustain life in the Bow Valley, and part comfort blanket. The Source is a depiction of the Bow River from its source at Bow Glacier along its pathways and tributaries, past my home in Banff, and out towards the foothills. It is a personal map of the river, my experiences of a childhood and life spent on its waters, and a record of the pandemic. Embroidering the 20 feet of fabric became a testament to the solitary time spent during isolation and afterwards. A record of anxiety and social isolation while also being a coping mechanism. Focusing on the river, its changes and its stability, during daily walks and at home while working the project, provided comfort and a link to others, to the Clematis Collective and to our surrounding ecosystems. It became a reason to go outside and a comforting blanket-project inside. The Source, both the river it represents, and the creation of the artwork, became my source of support and stability. It is a length of fabric that records the time spent alone, while also being a record of time spent reconnecting with nature, and a record of reaching out to others.

05- Chloe MacDonald, IT’S GONNA BE OKAY, Mixed media, 2021

Anxiety speaks the language of conspiracy. My anxiety does at least. Anxiety says, “what if this happens?” And “why did you do that?” And “why didn’t you do that?” “Everyone is watching for when you mess up.” But also, “nobody cares.” And on, and on. It connects unrelated things and catastrophizes that everything ever is going to go wrong and that there is nothing you can do about it. Anxiety feels like an overwhelming web of contradictions and unhelpful thinking that the anxious person believes to be their reality, and so those thoughts and feelings are incredibly hard to detach from. These cork boards show evidence against my anxiety, the process of healing, and challenging unhelpful thoughts. For some of my trauma I look back on and I am ok now from that experience. The memories and pain feel distant. I am at acceptance with what happened. I am resilient. Experiencing joy, love, and goodness is evidence too. I remember when I wasn’t okay, it wasn’t okay, and I felt I would forever be lost and hopeless, drowning in confusion and pain. Hell, I remember that feeling from today. With present trauma I try to remind myself of this wisdom I have learnt: It’s not okay now but it’s gonna be.