GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE
SECTION B
Evenings Out
Cleveland-X
Interview with Wendy Rogers, an artist from a post-industrial city.
A work from Wendy Rogers' Dermis series.
by Charlton Harper
Entering Wendy Rogers' studio I notice two things: the whistling and the skull. The whistle belongs to Wendy's cockatiel, Murphy, and he can let go with drawn out, not shrill, different pitched whistles. It takes a second to realize the whistling is coming from the enormous skull that squats near a far corner. It's the bird cage, a brooding head of chicken wire, large enough for Murphy to get a good flight from end to end, says Wendy.
There are signs around the space that tell you this is a working artist's studio. Several paintings in various stages of completion lean against a blackboard. Sketchbooks and tiny handmade notebooks cover a table. Drawings are pinned to a wall. Though she downplays her motives, saying "I'm always just making stuff. I'm not always looking for a venue," she is currently readying for a show at Spaces Gallery, when she will contribute to "Cleveland X: Artists from a Post-Industrial City." The show runs December 17-January 21.
ing against the idea of text as symbol. And there's a unity between materials and represented symbols. In one piece a painted tree trunk is frozen on yellow. Wendy has scraped away patches of paint
cleveland
Browsing through Wendy's work seems almost an intrusion, helped by a watchful look over my shoulder as I glance through a notebook she's created as a sort of letter to a friend. "I'll let you know if there's something you shouldn't see,” she says as I skim through the pages. And then, "well, maybe we should look at something else," she laughs as we set it aside, looking for something less personal.
Intimacy is one of the things that draws me into Wendy's work. The notebooks are on handmade paper, in various sizes, mostly small, kind of like diaries. They have a nice worn look. Inside, heavy black inked text dominates some pages, while on others it's masked by layers of ink or watercolor or paint. Here and there simple figures appear. They're storybooks, of a nonnarrative sort, some written to specific people, while others serve as a way to work out problems or things she would like to explore with paint. Books are the focus of Wendy's current work. "I always looked at books as magic objects," she says. "I know that's dorky to say. I always loved reading. I grew up in a rural area and for me reading was an escape." Her work during college was largely installations and paintings on a "heroic scale." But after grad school, the lack of a studio led her away from painting and into making art books, making journals into "painting books," where she also worked through her fascination with text.
In these journals text is the focus. Some pages are filled with text and type, others may consist of single words. Eventually the journal became too personal. Yet Wendy also wanted "to get painting off the wall and into people's hands." So she extended the books further. Instead of books with multiple pages, she now works on various sizes of single pieces of canvas or plywood. Now the text has shifted in its significance as well. Instead of dominating the page, text has virtually been erased by layered paint, with erratic scrapings here and there that allow words to blend through. Images become more important here, but as reduced symbols, often play-
to reveal the grain of the wood shingle beneath. The tree also implies paper and its connection to print and text. Some finished pieces are outfitted with actual bindings and covers, others may be mounted in series form. In book form, they're like pocket-sized paintings. They feel handy and practical and serve Wendy's aim well. "I've been so frustrated with painting, where the interaction with the viewer is minimalized. I want to violate codes. I want my work to say "touch me, pick me up."
"Cleveland X" focuses on post-boomer artists struggling to make it happen here in Cleveland. Wendy's making it, but it helps that she's kept her day job at the Geauga County Board of Mental Retardation. "I enjoy my job. I'm not locked into a drudge job. I make enough money so that I can make art. I'm happy that I don't have to wait tables." She's also worked with kids, mostly through the Art Center of Ashtabula. She thinks it's important to "teach kids how to see. I try to get them to draw as a way to work things out, like a journal. For kids, the difference between drawing and writing is minimal. And I want to get them to see that you don't have to be a master artist to enjoy drawing."
After the show, Wendy hopes to get going with some ideas about installations that she's mulling over. She misses installations, "the way they can be provocative and temporary, the grouping of objects and the way they function in relation to one another."
The deceptive simplicity about Wendy's books and paintings means that some explanation about intent is necessary. But that's o.k. "I realize everyone's not going to 'get it,' or get anything at all," she says. "I've never been able to sit and watch people interact with my work. the ideal environment would be a studio tour. I suppose Someone who's willing to spend time and think is my audience I guess. I think any artist just wants their work to be looked at."
Cleveland-X: Artists from a Post-Industrial City. Spaces Gallery is at 2220 West Superior Viaduct, Cleveland. December 17 through January 21. Admission is free. For more information call (216) 621-2314