Interview for Phelan
Meek's
1999 Solo Exhibition
"Women, Hips
& Fruit"

R.W. "Where did you learn to work in steel?"
P.M. "I learned through taking automobile welding at a
vocational training center. It’s actually very difficult to master cutting and
welding. I took the class 8 times before I felt like I knew how to do it and
what equipment I needed for my own workshop."
R.W. "Were there other women in the classes?"
P.M. "There was one other woman. We hung out together.
It
was an intimidating environment for sure. Not only the shop itself which was
filled with incomprehensible machines of all different types--plasma cutters,
acetylene torches, drill presses and mig welders, but the teacher and his
assistant and the rest of the class were all men. The teacher seemed obviously
put out with my being there. It was hard to get his attention. I don't
think he thought I was serious."
R.W. "What inspired you to keep going then?"
P.M. "I was determined to get out of the house. I
loved my baby deeply, but, when the
baby needed something and my husband and I were both in the house a kind of
vacuum would suck her to me. It was as if he wasn’t there. A friend said I
should take a course, but, I didn’t want to take just any course. When the
adult education catalog arrived in the mail--automobile welding jumped out at
me. Why? That’s a hard question. The only thing I can think of is that many
years ago I passed by a huge sculpture made out of painted steel in front of a
building in Arlington. I think it was of a woman running or something.
I loved
it. At that moment I thought "Someday I’d like to make
something out of painted metal." That’s
it. Anyway, when I saw the course listing, I jumped at the chance. Not only did
I get out of the house and have time to myself, my husband was forced to figure
out how to be with the baby. He did great and because of my insistence that he do
it, they now have a beautiful relationship. So we won all the way around.
I
developed an art form and our child gained a good father."
R.W. "What kinds of things did you learn in the
class?"
P.M. "The other guys typically cut and welded in straight
lines. They made perfectly square boxes. I found myself cutting out curves that
I welded together in odd two or three dimensional shapes. Eventually the
instructor got into what I was doing and started doing things like holding a
piece erect while I welded another piece to it and gave me great hints about how
to build supports for my pieces and how to guarantee that something was perpendicular.
I learned cutting and welding techniques using a variety of machines. At one
point I had the idea to cut a painting out of steel. I had an idea for a woman
lying down on a sofa with a work of art over her head. This was "Odalisque
with Still Life" and was based on a picture of me lying down on the
Victorian fainting sofa in my house when I was pregnant. The foreground or
positive space of the "painting" would be steel and the background
would end up being negative space. I ended up leaving the woman basically steel
colored and painting the art over her head. I like to think that it suggests the
importance of art in life."
R.W. "The painting over the woman’s head is
Cezanne-like
is it not?"

P.M. "Exactly. This is another mystery to me.
My
fascination with Cezanne. Don’t ask me where I got that. Through all of this I
have gained a profound respect for the nature and power of creativity. I learned
to follow up on my ideas and not to question them. Just see where they take me.
I became obsessed with Cezanne’s still lifes. I hadn’t given him much notice
before I needed to decide on a theme for the painting over that woman’s head.
I came across some of his paintings of still lifes in a book at home and it hit
me. If I can do a little self analysis here I think that this whole period of my
life was and may still be related to the fruitfulness that comes from giving
birth."
R.W. "Is that where the title of the show comes from, ‘Women,
Hips & Fruit?’"
P.M. "Yes.
To me a woman’s strength lie in her hips. The hips are the fulcrum between
a woman's thinking and feelings. Perhaps that’s why
women can do ten things at once. Raise the children and run the corporation.
Large hips are not in vogue today, of course, but that’s a relatively recent
phenomena. In the past
women’s ability to produce a child was revered. It now seems to be relegated
to an afterthought."
R.W. "Isn’t this counter feminist?"
P.M. "No, to me this is the real feminist position.
I think
that women have for too long now bought the idea that career is everything and
have denied the benefits of being child bearers. I believed that myself
for years. Now having a child I see that the depth of meaning that comes from producing
life enhances everything, even my corporate self, if you will. I think feminist
organizations, corporations and countries should be run by women who have
children!"
R.W. "Some of your works in the show follow this theme
directly in terms of women bearing fruit. But isn’t there another theme or
current with regard to your odalisque figures?"
P.M. "Well, I really got into women lying down.
Maybe I
just needed to relax. I noticed that throughout art history many works were done
of prone women. The artist painted these works of their mistresses or for
wealthy men of their mistresses. The women were objects of desire. I decided to
make my women out of steel and change them from objects of desire to women
pursuing solitude. Solitude, that illusive, precious thing a woman needs to
safeguard with a vengeance when she’s a mother."
R.W. "There is a sense of women’s strength in these
works."
P.M. "Yes, their strength comes from cutting their hips and
curves out of steel perhaps, but I’ve also painted them with fluid paint
which, I think, or hope, gives the sense of women’s pliability."
R.W. "Tell me about ‘Woman in the Garden.’ She reminds
me of a nude by Cranach."

P.M. "Cranach was part of my research into the female
odalisque. As you know, Cranach was a 17th century German painter. His
odalisque, like mine, lies down in a garden-like setting, however, unlike mine
he painted a city in the background and ..."
R.W. "You left in the arrows."
P.M. "Yes, but rather than giving the feeling that the
woman is lying there waiting for a man to come back, my woman in the garden
could be the archer herself. My thought was to project her as self-contained and
waiting for no one."
R.W. "What is the wonderfully sensuous paint that you’ve
used on the odalisques in the large gallery?"
P.M. "It's a fiberglass coating that is typically used
for things like tools and iron railings. I discovered it's fine art
properties and exploited them for this show."
R.W. "Fiberglass is very dangerous to use, isn’t
it?"
P.M. "Yes, I wear lots of prophylactic gear.
Fiberglass is
quite toxic during the application process. Once dry it’s non-toxic.
But I
love how it looks so much, I put up with all of the hassle of
wearing the equipment. Not only do the colors mix well and pool within each
other in unique ways but when you build up the thickness of the paint it creates
a sculptured texture."
R.W. "It makes you want to touch it, if not caress it.
P.M. "Hmmm."
R.W. "What is the inspiration for ‘Woman with the Red
Fan?’"

P.M. "Another old master painting, this time Ingres’ ‘Odalisque
with Slave’. In the original the woman is attended to by several slaves which
I liberated and while my woman remains erotic she seems contemplative at the
same time. I, also, took out the original setting which suggested a harem."
R.W. "I notice that many of your steel paintings have the
frame incorporated into them but ‘Woman with the Red Fan’ is frameless as if
she is suspended in air."
P.M. "Although I liked the feeling of the positive and
negative space that came from some of the other steel paintings being framed I
decided to experiment by doing away with the frame. I liked the idea of them
floating on the wall. You can see that in the ones that include a still life I
did the same thing. ‘Fruit with Tablecloth’ is also frameless.
I just got
into the apples and oranges as entities in themselves. I wanted them to stand
out so I magnified their size."
R.W. "Where to next, Phelan?"
P.M. "I’m going in three directions. First, a series of
large outdoor pieces I’m working on out of steel and concrete that are based
on archeological artifacts from
30,000 to 3500BC. The artifacts are from the time when women were revered as
objects of divinity."
"Second, my maternity series out of concrete and steel
created on a monumental scale to be set outdoors. These large figures celebrate
the joy of motherhood and of being born. Each has an exalted mother figure with
a baby dancing in her womb. In at least one of the works the baby figure is
motorized." 
"The third and newest direction is creating painted steel
sculptures based on children’s figure drawings. I’m fascinated with the
drawings that children do in their early developmental stages. They come up with
things adults don’t think of because of acculturation. The drawings are
primitive but at the same time
evolve in consciousness.
R.W. "Thank you, Phelan."
Ron Meek, art
historian and former lecturer at The National Gallery of Art, is currently working on an historical
fiction novel, 1886, Paris.
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