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MYTCHELL
CONTEMPORARY FINE ART
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ABOUT
THE ARTIST |
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To me working
in the abstract is to aim for the essence. From the color,
texture and feeling of every day materials, that which often
goes unnoticed becomes beauty experienced.
I believe it is the role of the artist
is to open the gap toward our highest evolution; to explore
beyond known and mapped territories.
This path is marked by intuition, inspiration, and feeling. When
moving in the abstract I exist in this realm, and hope the art
I return with can help mark the way.
For the most part it is in the indefinable
that my work is born - an effort to communicate passion, inspiration,
rapture, restlessness.
My canvas of steel introduces an entire universe of chance and
coincidence. Although the process is unpredictable, the idea
or image I hold inside releases itself in surprising ways, as
a new expression of feeling. Only by releasing the mind does
creativity flow through, coaxing the potential from the collaboration
between chance and vision.
Metal and the evidence of manipulating
metal display a myriad of wonderful and unique properties.
I highlight
these to unveil the warmth and fragility held in the rugged
rawness and translate
the root of inspiration in new, innovative ways.
Sometimes the work requires only a guiding hand through the
maze of inspiration.
In the creation of other pieces there is a period of introduction,
the material rejecting everything but the ideal.
It is my hope
that the work carries the viewer into the realm of possibility
from which it was born.

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Bio:
My education is ongoing as I challenge my
eye and mind to evolve the way they perceive and relate. I have
apprenticed in a traditional way, gathering skills from an early
age working with my father, a talented metal worker and by studying
under Master Sculptor Alberto Castagna.
I now live and work in John Day, Oregon.
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Galleries, Recent Shows & Collections:
Lawrence Galleries, Sheridan and
Salishan, OR
Lahaina Galleries, Maui, The Big Island, Newport Beach,
Bend
The Art Spirit Gallery, Coeur d'Alene, ID
Beyond the Perimeter Gallery, John Day, OR
Kebanu Gallery, Bend, OR
Art & Soul Gallery, Fort Collins, CO
Featured Artist, June 2009, Lahaina Gallery, Bend, OR
Featured Artist, September 2008, Kebanu, Bend
Fall Festival, Bend, OR 2007
Unity Gallery, Private Show, Fort Collins, CO 2002
Private Collection, 6 Installations, Jackson Hole, WY
Public Installation, What Are Records?, Boulder, CO
Private Collection, Gordon, 33 Installations, Boulder, CO
Private Collection, Hiesel, 15 Installations, Boulder, CO
Private Collection, Reynolds; 2 Installations, Taos, NM
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__________________________________
A note about naming. For me naming a piece is integral to the
artwork. The name is for me, and the viewer is free to percieve
whatever they like in the artwork. That said, I will take this
space to share a bit of my process.
The day that I finish
a piece is the day that I name it. I reflect on all that
has gone on during the process that
I
have
been
sculpting
a piece. By doing so, I get
to know what
the piece is helping me to understand.
Take the “Angels of Forgetting” for
example. While I was working on these pieces, I was given
a book by
a friend. It was not something I would have chosen to read,
yet I found myself reading it. Her book was about the things
she experienced as a girl growing up in
Poland
during
world
war II. Oddly,
her
recollections were not centered on loss and tragedy. She remembers
playing with her friends and a large amount of freedom because
the adults seemed to be very distracted most
of the time. Later when she became a psychiatrist and emigrated
to the US, she felt the need to listen to those who had been
to war and she treated many Vietnam vets. The irony is that
most vets only wanted to forget what they had seen.
While working on "Angels," I
also listened to archived footage of Studs Terkel interviewing
people
twenty-five years
after the great depression. Those who were children during the
depression often recalled how everything turned into a game.
They enjoyed families gathering
together in communal living situations. In many cases they remembered
the tragedy with fondness. Those who were adults at the time
recalled
hardship, stress and loss.
I finished the pieces on Memorial Day,
so I considered this as a final significant point in naming
them. Throughout the process, I had been thinking about how
people
deal with tragedy. As children, we have the innate ability to
live in the midst of tragedy and still remain in our bliss. As
adults, and we suffer greatly, and often more so mentally by
worrying. Odly, we are generally the creators
of the tragedy itself. Not only
that,
afterwards,
we
like to memorialize the tragedy that we created and suffered
through with special days and monuments.
At least this is how it all came to be
in my mind while I was working on “Angles.”
So on Memorial Day, I am looking at the pieces and feeling what
all transpired while working on them and in them I saw two doorways.
One doorway, on the darker piece, was horizontal. It seemed to
be a doorway accessed by the subconscious, as when sleeping.
The other was a regular doorway, and it was on the lighter piece,
the one accessed in the light of day.

Being Memorial Day, I was suddenly curious
as to why we like to memorialize tragedy. Instead of “lest we forget,” which
is supposed to imply that we will learn from our mistakes, perhaps
it has the opposite effect. By memorializing
our unsavory characteristics and then labeling them as bravery
and chivalry, we have grown them, enhanced them. In the entirety
of human history, we have been doing the same things over and
over. In fact we
have gotten better at it. Our wars can now take out millions
of people rather than dozens or hundreds.
Then it struck me: What if, instead of
creating monuments to our tragedies, we created intentional
doorways past tragic perspectives to those of joy. Not
escapism at all, but focusing on natural attributes and enhancing
positive traits.
Perhaps it is time to try a new tactic. By passing through
the doorways, with the grace of the same Angles that
as children helped us to see only the good, we learn to increase
our bliss. By allowing ourselves to invite in joy, generosity
and kindness we also cause ourselves to forget
why we need war
and hatred.
All of this is wrapped up in a feeling
encapsulated in the Angels of Forgetting.
When I told my friend who had written
the book about the name of pieces, she misheard and thought
I had called them Angeles of Forgiving. Yes, they
are that too, but that is also the next step. |
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