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).

Murmurings... visual poetry

Thanks to everyone who visited my recent exhibition, “Murmurings,” at Spark Gallery in Denver — or who followed along on Instagram/elsewhere. The works included in the show are explorations in fragmentary storytelling: pieced-together bits of found poetry and text give voice to abstract collage elements, as word and image intermingle. I’ve posted quite a few of the collages from the show on Instagram and have included one below.

“Never There,” collage on watercolor paper, 10 x 7,” ©2024, Janice McDonald.

In the past my work has been made almost exclusively with found color and imagery. I always stayed away from using words in my work — I had enough words in my graphic design career. But recently the murmurings from content that included words and phrases became impossible to ignore. Participation in a collage and poetry program/group also prompted me to imagine and explore new ways of merging expressive elements. So I embarked on a new series of works, allowing myself to work intuitively (and sometimes badly!) to see where this interest would take me.

Many people have asked how I make these works and I have trouble describing the process, but will try. I don’t compose the word portion first or make the collage first… it all somehow develops simultaneously. When I begin to work, a few words and images on my desk usually jump out. I arrange and rearrange, exploring how the fragments might fit together and support each other. A lot of possibilities are dismissed and pushed aside.

When an idea finally begins to emerge, I look for supporting elements. Sometimes it’s a word or phrase, sometimes an image. I hunt for linking elements to complete the idea within my existing stash and occasionally through a new search, I rarely have something come together in one session, often returning to it, for further editing and refining. I lean them up in my studio and mull them over.

Directing the viewer’s eye so that the piece “reads” is part of the challenge. A large measure of serendipity comes into play during this process, along with years of art and design experience. I’m always grateful when my efforts begin to click and come together.

It seems that staying open to what may be developing is an important part of this work flow too… not pre-supposing what story I’m telling, but letting that evolve. I’m happy to answer questions about this work flow too — feel free to leave a comment or ask a question below..

I’ve been collecting text fragments without any desire to spend the time to figure out how to organize them in some logical way. So far my storage method is to slip them inside clear sleeves that are archival and acid free. The static generated between the folded plastic holds the snippets of text in place pretty well, plus the fragments are easily scannable and readable from both sides. (These sleeves have been hugely helpful in many aspects of my studio practice and while they may get a little dinged up over time, they never wear out.)

Only a small portion of my collected imagery is stored this way, most are in larger (also uncategorized) bins. But when I’m working on several projects, the folder method helps me keep things separate and makes for relatively easy clean up.

Transparent sleeves to organize elements for specific projects (left), are now also useful for storing bits of text.

Working to a theme: Cut Me Up magazine

As part of Kolaj Fest in June, I was honored to be invited to participate in a panel discussion about Cut Me Up magazine. The conversation was planned to honor the 5th anniversary of this unique publication.

Cut Me Up features work by artists who are challenged to reuse portions of imagery taken from previous issues of the magazine, combined with their own materials, to respond to a specific call/theme. Each issue is juried — I’m happy that my collages have been included in several issues.

The magazine’s website now has a great recap of the conversation with input and quotes from everyone on the panel.

“Cut Me Up: Issue 1 came into my possession during the first KolajFest. I rarely work collaboratively but this seemed like the kind of collaboration that I would be interested in and make time for.…

It’s a good read, accompanied by artworks and photos of the event. Check it out here.

Kudos to Andrea Burgay, the genius and energy behind the publication, for organizing the session. (We could easily have talked for much longer, had time allowed!)

Below is my collage, “Fore/Back: Ground,” which was selected for publication in Cut Me Up Issue 3: Tabula Rasa (July 1, 2019) — along with small images of the transition process across several issues demonstrating how elements are re-used by different artists. (Kind of like a visual version of that old game of “Telephone!”)

Left to right: “Untitled 18,” Andrea Burgay, Issue 1; “Notice. Novice,” Kristy Hughes, Issue 2; “Fore/Background,” Janice McDonald, Issue 3.

Left to right: “Notice. Novice,” Kristy Hughes, Issue 2; “Fore/Background,” Janice McDonald, Issue 3; “Bad Connection,“ Laurent Seljan, Issue 4.

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!