VOTE project: collage to campaign

Both of my grandmothers were born in 1898 before women could vote in the United States. American women finally got the right to vote with the passage of the 19th Amendment in 1920. The majority of women of color were not able vote until the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

As a young girl, I listened to poignant stories about what a joy and a privilege it was for Dorothy and Mabel to finally participate in elections. They impressed upon me that I must never take the power of my vote for granted — our vote is our voice.

Photo from a Women’s March, early 1900s, photographer unknown.

I continued those “importance of voting” conversations with my daughter. In 2016, we watched the documentary Not For Ourselves Alone: The Story of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony. The history of women’s fight to get the vote is rarely taught in schools—and the film is amazing. I’d seen it before, but that time around I was struck anew by how much art/craft/design went into the costumes, banners and signage that were used during the protests to gain the vote.

Shortly after watching the film, I made the “Vote” collage (shown at top) in my sketchbook in homage to the tenacity of the original suffragettes.

After witnessing the recent erosion of women’s rights, among other concerns, I wanted to find my own path to contribute by doing more than just simply voting this election season. So I’m committed to highlighting the importance of voting through my artwork and conversations. (Confirm your voting status or register to vote at vote.org.)

One of three “Vote” tee-shirt options.

In this spirit, I’ve designed several "Vote" tee shirts. Wear one to… provoke a conversation, help promote voting rights, and/or collect an evergreen tee that can be worn beyond this upcoming election. I've also created buttons if you're a quieter communicator :) All feature my original “Vote” collage and are available via the shop on my website.

Note: As of October 11, 2024 the shop has closed. Thanks to everyone who participated in the project. Now it’s time to actually get out there and VOTE!

Engaging in the election process can change attitudes from “ugh, politics” to “oh, let’s begin to build the community I want to live in.” A canvasser who focuses on getting out the vote shared an apt analogy that she uses when speaking with people who plan to sit this election out: If you need to get somewhere and there isn’t a bus going to your exact destination, you don’t just give up and stay home. Instead, you hop on the bus that takes you closest to where you’d like to go. Yes!

Let’s celebrate the freedom we have to make our choices and voices heard. If this project resonates with you, please share this post and help me spread the word. (I know my grandmothers Dorothy and Mabel would approve!)

Watch for additional vote-related collages to appear on my Instagram feed. New ideas are percolating.

Official program cover for NAWSA's 1913 Woman Suffrage Procession in Washington. (Artist unknown.)

To learn more about the banners that were used during women’s protests to win the vote, check out these articles: Crafting a Voice: The History of Suffrage Banners and The Banner Years of Mary Lowdnes (an overview with amazing original design sketches from a woman who sewed, stitched and painted banners to help promote voting rights in England) Photo below is from a march in England where some of Lowdnes handiwork was probably on display (photographer unknown).

Markmaking influences / how I got here

The pieces in my upcoming “Gesture and Flow” exhibition (May/June 2023) make my interest in line and type more apparent than in any body of work I’ve produced before. The backstory that got me here seems worthy of exploring.

As a graphic design student at Oregon State University, an incredibly thorough understanding of typography was demanded. This was pre-computer so we were drawing letterforms and roughing in text blocks by hand for our projects. The curriculum also included a full year of calligraphy courses (thank you, Allen Wong). By senior year we were able to access and incorporate rub-on (Letraset) type. We also learned how to mark up text and specify typesetting so it could be ordered from actual typographers.

As a senior, I had an internship in the campus Office of Publications under the amazing mentorship of Marilyn Holsinger (both an ace designer and a talented calligrapher).

Shown here is the outside spread from one of my first projects under Marilyn’s influence. It incorporates wave forms that I designed, then carefully inked by hand onto mylar.

Brochure spread measures 11 x 11”, folds to 5.5” x 11”, circa 1978 (!)

Although most of the University’s materials were photo-typeset, the class catalog (about the size of a phonebook) was still being set with hot metal on Linotype machines which made a distinctive and impressive racket. It was amazing to witness the whirlwind of change that eventually ushered in digital typesetting. The campus print shop had a full range of printing equipment too.

I consider it a gift to have seen all of the processes and machinery in action. I learned so much about the evolution of typesetting and printing practices from a hands-on perspective. (During the internship Marilyn also used me as an occasional model for campus promotional materials — that’s me back in the day.)

This background always informed my design work and 40+ year career. I occasionally developed gestural calligraphic and strongly-lined woodblock illustrations to use in client projects. And all the while, I was also pursuing my interest in collage, at first in a limited way, but by the late 1990’s I was very focused on collage as a complement (and antidote) to my computer-based design work.

Hand-carved woodblock print made to illustrate a client brochure, approximately 10 x 8”, circa 2003.

When the Covid lock-downs began in 2020, while on extra-long Zoom calls, I began altering magazine photos with marks, patterns, and asemic writing. I have used fragments from some of those images in a few collages, like these, made in response to a call for art sponsored by the Doug + Laurie Kanyer Art Collection. I still have a big folder of patterned elements that may come into play in future collages.

Small collages, each just 1” square, using some elements that were altered with white ink, 2020

A small pile of my inked-upon collage elements. I usually make the marks while the imagery is still in the magazine, and them rip pieces out to get the shapes/bits I want for a project.

As you might imagine, there is more to the story of incorporating markmaking with collage — so this is the first of one (or a few?) more post/s to come.

The no-scissor zone

You’ve probably noticed that the papers used in my collages are torn, instead of cut out. Any straight lines in my work are the included edge of a piece of paper or a graphic element within the image I've selected. Because I work most often with non-identifiable, somewhat nebulous, imagery (color, textures, blurred backgrounds), cropping those elements to produce a rough edge usually seems more appropriate to me.

Tearing has become a creative gesture akin to drawing. The process creates the lines that define areas in the collages. Over time I’ve even taught myself how to rip pretty decent circles out of paper — and it’s actually become a kind of meditative moment.

An example of directional tearing.

My work process is not as random as it might seem at first glance. Every aspect is intentional. I try to use the torn edges to my advantage. If you rip a magazine photo, you typically end up with a white edge on one side of the tear. On the other side, the ink usually extends to the paper's edge. I often use “directional tearing” to create a white edge as a highlight or a bridge to another element. If I want the edges to blend in to a compositions, I will make the tear in the other direction.

I love the feathery character of the paper fibers that are exposed when tearing. The torn edges help to meld and blend adjacent paper fragments together. I have the impression that those little fiber fingers around the edges help keep papers adhered better (maybe?)!

I love the portability of collage! This one includes some torn circles and other elements culled from a magazine while in flight.

Tearing allows me to crop the paper elements that I want to use in the same way that scissors would, but the result has a softer, more organic feel. I also can gather materials while traveling, and in almost any situation, with ease — and no worries about what scissors are acceptable to carry through security to board an airplane. (I have to admit that I miss the pre-pandemic airline magazines from which I would harvest ingredients for collage projects, while my bemused fellow passengers looked on!)

I adore oh-so-many collage works that incorporate cut elements, yet somehow the ripped edges resonate most with me for my own work.

Caveat: In occasional situations (such as my ThroughLines series), I rip papers against the edge of a ruler as a compromise to achieve a roughly straight edge. I’ve cut a few images in the case of a specific commission where it was appropriate. And somewhere out in the ether are a few early collages with straight edges — made before I discovered the aptness of a rip/tear approach!

Art project, on the wing

I rarely participate in traveling/mail art projects however, every once in a while, I jump in.

While traveling in February, I had a chance to visit with artist Bonnie Ruttan who had received a passport-sized book to create artwork in and then pass along. It was so compact and interesting. It had originated in Austria, then traveled to Ireland, and now was being passed around in the US. Eventually it will (hopefully) make its way back to Kevin Geronimo Brandtner who started the project.

Inside cover of the mail art project book.

Intrigued, I decided to participate. The pages were small and had some stamps already in place as a background. Most artists were giving a nod to the passport/travel theme in their collaged responses. One of the fun things about the package was that it included a small packet of business cards and paper ephemera from artists who had participated before me, along with earlier mailing envelopes with scars and stamps.

The starting spread…

Here’s an image of what I started with and another of what my page spread looked like when completed.

My finished contribution to the project.

I included a ticket from Denver’s light rail A-Train to the airport that features a squiggle of reflective holographic security foil, plus other imagery that related to the colors and design already on the page. A nice departure from my usual work in the studio and the book is now off to its next stop in New Mexico.

Fun!