Story of Me
Barb Schwarz-Karst
Artist Statement
One late night, while walking back from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, I passed by
Millennium Park. Periodically, in the previous two weeks, I noticed large crews of construction
workers, within a private chain linked area, erecting two large glass brick towers at opposite ends
of the park. My curiosity was even more heightened when I witnessed the swarm of electronic
techies, videographers, roadies, drivers, and the rest of the hive performing what looked like a
“dry run” of the new installation. It was a beautiful sight looking at the colors of a fountain
consisting of “…two 50-foot glass block towers at each end of a shallow reflecting pool. The
towers project video images from a broad social spectrum of Chicago citizens, a reference to the
traditional use of gargoyles in fountains, where faces of mythological beings were sculpted with
open mouths to allow water, a symbol of life, to flow out…faces of Chicago citizens projected
on LED screens and having water flow through a water outlet in the screen to give the illusion of
water spouting from their mouths. The collection of faces…was taken from a cross-section of
1,000 residents.” (http://www.millenniumpark.org/artandarchitecture/crown_fountain.html)
I couldn’t waste a “Polaroid moment,” so I took out my digital camera and shot anything that
moved. I was even more intrigued when a man in a leather jacket walked up to me within the
gated confines and asked me, “Would you like to come inside and take pictures instead of
shooting through the fence? Are you an artist? What do you think of the installation? Do you
think it interacts well with the cities architecture? What do you think the sculptor was trying to
say?”
In my own Montanan upfront – wear my heart on my sleeve style, I rattled off some kind of
interpretation of the city looking very human and warm to me, unlike O’Keeffe’s paintings of
New York City. I mentioned I had just finished two paintings in Chicago: “The Chicago
Theater” and “Downtown Chicago”. I told him of my use of flesh tones and soft edges to give
the city a loving, romantic look and how I thought the sculptural fountain was doing exactly the
same…interpreting the city as a warm, inviting place by reflecting back the “real” faces of the
people who live within its arms.
Much to my chagrin, I found out I was talking to the Spanish artist and creator of “The Crown
Fountain,” Jaume Plensa.
Since my experiences in Chicago, I’ve noticed my art has changed. It is more inclusive to
different styles, media, and has grown in size and spontaneity. It is as if the rules have changed.
The experimental aspect is liberating.
I have always been interested in architecture, but more so since I spent two summers working
directly in the city. I love how a city’s architectural history is eclectic in its range of age, esthetic
value, style, functionality, structure, upkeep, and placement. The buildings trace a demographic
growth. If only they could talk. It intrigues me that the locals can find specific buildings more
worthwhile then others, based solely on cultural norm and demographic attitude. For instance,
most Parisians did not like the look of the Eiffel Tower or the glass pyramid at the entrance of
the Louvre; yet they have become international sensations. Frank Lloyd Wright is an inspiration
to many architects, who emulate his “form follows function” laisse fare attitude; yet he is usually
one of the first architects recognized by the masses. Frank Gehry stretches the imagination and
appreciation of architects, designers, crafters, and the “normal Joe Blow” worldwide.
Missoula does not sport buildings by these historically famous architects, but has an esthetic
quality of it’s own by celebrities such as A. J. Gibson. I find buildings such as the “Babs” and
“Missoula County Courthouse” beautifully ornate, possessing a style that is reminiscent of a day
when planning and construction took time; it was solid, tangible, and awe inspiring. Even the
lesser known builders took pride in their work with the creation and assembly of each signature
monolith that currently anchors this town and makes Missoula unique to all who live and play
here. Perhaps these historic structures are like the Stonehenge of the valley, helping us locate
our direction and placement in “The Garden City.”
I love this merge between traditional and contemporary, not only in art, but in everyday living. It
can be scary because it is so unfamiliar, yet it gives me an adrenalin rush when I discover novel
dialog within my artwork. It’s like riding a bull. I strap in, hold on for the ride, and hope I can
make it through the 8 second buzzer. Even then, I’m scared to jump off the massive animal, yet I
can’t wait to ride again.