"Northeast Quadrant"

from

The Katrina Collection

Film on the work of Lori K. Gordon

This is a 20 minute film about my work. It focuses on The Katrina Collection, and plans for the second stage of The Labat Project. Click on the arrow on the bottom left of the screen to play the video.

To view The Katrina Collection, scroll down to the end of this page. Click on any image for a larger view.

Artist's Statement:

Like so many people along the Gulf Coast, the life I knew was torn apart by Hurricane Katrina. I lost my home and studio in Clermont Harbor, Mississippi to a 35 foot wall of water and 150 mile per hour winds. Not one wall was left standing in my entire beachfront community.

In both a literal and a metaphorical sense, this series is composed of pieces of the storm. I have had an incredible amount of help in its development along the way. Friends and neighbors gave me permission to rummage through the debris on their property, shop owners in Bay St. Louis and Waveland made the same generous offer, and there have been many strangers who invited me onto their property or delivered boxes of debris to my door. A couple of months after the storm, I was invited by Lisa Michiel of Art Gulf Coast magazine to write a story about my experiences for their first post-Katrina issue. The following article is reprinted by permission of the Michiels.



Life is about a lot of things, and one of those is loss. In recent weeks, thousands of people along the Gulf Coast have had more than our share of loss to deal with. So many of us lost our homes, our businesses, and our way of life. For some of us, it’s been even worse; we have lost friends and family members. It is hard to find anyone who was not profoundly affected by the massive storm of August 29.

Before Katrina ravaged our coast, I used to drive down streets just to marvel at the beauty of my surroundings. I spent countless mornings on the beach, sitting in the sand with a cup of coffee as I watched the sun rise over the Gulf. My favorite evening activity was to bicycle down the beach road at sunset, luxuriating in the cool breeze coming off the sound. I could not paint enough local landscapes, or stand to stay away from my studio for long.

In the aftermath of the storm which ripped our lives apart, I did none of those things. Instead, I swept the slab where my home used to stand. I picked among the rubble of splintered wood and rusted metal where my studio rested amidst a beautiful grove of bamboo. I looked for signs of life in what used to be my community, and I waited. I waited for the insurance adjusters to come and I waited for the county to allow me to go back home and I waited for some sign that things were really getting better. I waited for the moments of anger, sorrow and fear to pass. I waited for nights in which I could sleep, and for the cessation of troubled dreams which I didn’t understand. I waited for the clock of our lives to start ticking again.

I know that I was not alone. We all experienced the agony of waiting for our lives to get better, and the frustration of not being able to control that process. In the months since the storm, I have not talked to anyone who can make sense of what happened. There are some situations in which reasoning is not adequate; intellectualization simply does not do the job. My only response has been visceral, and the expression of that has been through my work.

Five weeks after the storm, I started sifting through the rubble of my life and began creating something new from the mounds of debris that cover my property. My canvases are now composed of twisted, rusty pieces of metal and battered pieces of plywood. I have found treasures in the form of clocks which stopped at the moment that destruction rained down upon Clermont Harbor. Broken dolls which washed up on my lot have been transformed into visual stories of shattered lives. Plaster angels have found new halos of dartboard wire, and fragments of paintings which I plucked from tree limbs like damaged fruit have been reborn in new forms.

Some of these new works are multifaceted; among the physical layers of the piece are also layers of meaning. Stories of the storm can be found within the elements of the collages. Blue Heron is one of the most complex pieces in the series, both visually and metaphorically. A powerful digital image of a ruined structure on the beach is surrounded by an ornate frame, indicating that the house was once lovely and extravagant. The support for the work is a piece of very twisted and rusty metal which indicates the wrath and destructive power of the storm, but a “tree” with green leaves is bursting through the image of the ruined house, signifying rebirth and growth. Pieces of an antique dresser act as vertical structure for the piece, and a blue heron sits off to the side, as if waiting to return to the coast. Salvaged portions of a recovered painting and some twisted cloth from an oak limb complete the piece.

Others are much simpler and direct, having to do more with powerful visual imagery than with layers of meaning. House of Katrina is one such piece. I was immediately drawn to the elegant shape of the chair fragment, with its strong Asian feel. The curved knife salvaged from the ruins of my kitchen added to the oriental cast, and the painted fabric that is reminiscent of water, as well as the fossilized ammonite, anchor the piece solidly in time and space.

As each element of a piece has found its perfect place with another, I have been feeling something akin to hope. After weeks of shoveling stinking mud, wet insulation and crumbling sheetrock, I am now in my new “studio”, playing among my treasures. Instead of standing in endless lines to fill out yet more forms, I am making something out of nothing. The waiting has been replaced with creating. I feel like I have been blessed beyond belief.

I have always known how important my work was to my happiness and wellbeing. I never felt that I had a choice as to whether or not I did my art; it is simply what I am about. The five weeks in which Katrina robbed me of that part of myself is a period of time in which I was not complete. It is only since I have begun to work again that I have been able to begin the healing process. In a very small and personal way, I have been able to make time start again. As I savor the relief that comes with moving forward, I am rediscovering the possibility of joy.

Shortly after the hurricane, a friend told me that it was the responsibility of artists to begin creating as soon as possible. It was our job, she said, to help us all understand what had happened to our lives. I don’t know if my work can do that for anyone else. What I do know is that each of us, in our own unique fashion, has to find a way to believe again, to dare hope for our future.


Lori Gordon
October 2005

Published in Art Gulf Coast, fall/winter 2005 issue


To see a twenty minute film about my work, click on the screen towards the top of this blog. You can also log on to http://lorikgordon.blogspot.com. To view MSNBC's slideshow and hear an audio tape, please go to http://risingfromruin.msnbc.com. NPR's story on All Things Considered can be accessed at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5620537. My good friend Ellis Anderson has written some very moving accounts of the situation; her "Katrina Chronicles" may be read at http://katrinapatina.blogspot.com. To keep abreast of our struggle to prevent our coastline from being turned into another high rise condo horror, visit www.coastalcommunitywatch.org, which is the site for the organization which Ellis and I founded in May of 2005. Finally, please visit www.hancock-art.com, the website for our local organization, The Arts, Hancock County, Mississippi.

Please feel free to email me at lorikgordon@gmail.com for any information on prices and availability of pieces from The Katrina Collection, or on upcoming shows and workshops in your area.

Lori K. Gordon

The Katrina Collection is evolving. In the beginning, all of the pieces were about the storm itself, and my reaction to the event. As I began working through the healing process, I discovered that I was able to focus on creating works from the debris that were more about the joy of creating than about the event. Now, another level has been reached. I am still using debris in all of the pieces, but I am beginning to incorporate elements which I am finding in my travels, and which were not necessarily dug out of rubbish piles. I see this as another step forward in the struggle to incorporate the storm into my life, and make it my own.

Faith's Angel came about as a commission from the American Red Cross. The good folks there asked me to create a piece for Faith Hill, a Mississippi native. Faith and her husband Tim McGraw contributed an immense amount for Katrina survivors. I began the piece with fragments of a smashed guitar which I pulled from a ditch in Clermont Harbor shortly after the storm. I paired the guitar with a ceramic head which once graced the body of a mardi gras doll, purchased resin wings, some fragments of stained glass which came from my friend Anita's lampshade, and a wood and metal window guard with a symbolic red cross. SOLD

Nicosia Saint is the first in a new series. While on a recent trip to Cyprus, I picked up some of these plaster god heads. I paired this head with a slat from a barrel which Karina dismantled, a metal cross, pottery fragments, resin wings and a piece of painted plywood.

Bethlehem Angel was created for my recent show in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. It is created from a couple of paintbrushes, a recovered kitchen cabinet door, an old grater, a painted metal peacock feather, a doll head, two wings, and a resin "halo" that was left for me at the gallery a month or two ago.

Mimosa at Buccaneer incorporates a small acrylic painting on wood, a drawer front and several pieces of salvaged wood.

Low Tide incorporates a small acrylic painting, and three different scraps of wood from various debris piles. 24" x 24"

Cairo's Bayou starts with a small acrylic painting on plywood and three pieces of bamboo mounted on a drawer from a jewelry case. 17" x 11"

Buccaneer Mimosa incorporates a drawer from a jewelry chest, a fragment of another drawer, and an acrylic painting on plywood. 15" x 12"

Blue Bayou incorporates a battered section of wall panel, two fragments of furniture, and a small acrylic painting on plywood. 17" x 16"

Bayous Trees starts with a small painting on plywood of the trees that grew on the edge of our bayou.I mounted the painting on an old metal iron stand and a painted and decoupaged wood plaque, and added a brass strip from a piece of fine furniture. 11" x 15"

Bayou combines a small original painting of mine, some flooring tile, two pieces of scrap plywood and a strip of metal.

Beast of Burden begins with the fragments of a Mexican tile. I mounted them upon a metal stove grill, a damaged painting of mine, and a wood tray with slats. 24" x 18"

Aias begins with the small ceramic painting from Greece. I mounted it on a metal disc and added the curved metal element, and adhered them to the piece of wood which was once part of a dresser drawer. The support for the piece is a wooden tray.

Church Music is composed from a piece of beadboard which I painted and distressed, a wonderful picture frame with four fleur de lis in the corners, a Mexican window guard, and the pieces from a smashed saxophone.

Electric Angel is composed from a decorative wood platter. a book cover, a polymer face, and a smashed light fixture. 12" diameter.

Stained Glass Cross features a damaged wood cross which is mounted upon an old, small window. The stained glass effect was created by adhering pieces from a stained glass light fixture which was given to me by my friend Anita, who lost her home in Waveland. 7 1/2" x 111/2"

Stained Glass Cross II features a damaged wood cross which is mounted upon an old, small window. The stained glass effect was created by adhering pieces from a stained glass light fixture which was given to me by my friend Anita, who lost her home in Waveland. 7 1/2" x 111/2"

Nautilus Story begins with the brass replica of a shell. I layered it upon a wood platter on which I wrote my personal storm story; a fragment of fine furniture to which some handmade paper has been adhered and which includes more of my story, and an old mirror backing which I painted and attached more handmade paper.

Milagro Doll is composed from an unusual doll,, and some wood fragments to which are attached numerous milagros. The circular piece of painted metal, some drawer handles and a bit of salvaged jewelry complete the piece.

Church Music II references the incredible contribution that church musicians have made to the cultural milieu of the Deep South. This piece is fashioned from a chipped panel from a piece of fine furniture, a Mexican wood and metal window guard, and a damaged trumpet. SOLD

Asian Story is a very simple piece which combines a carved Chinese panelwith a bamboo tray. 39" x 13"

Alice's Tulip is built around the copper relief sketch in the center. It was given to me by my friend Alice, who suffered heavy damage to her home on Sycamore Street in Bay St. Louis. I mounted it in a portion of a very rusty Mexican picture frame, and enhanced the piece with a piece of sandpaper, some damaged disco mirror tiles, a fragment of brass, brass tacks and mounted the piece on a fragment of wood.

The Beginning II, from the Reliquary series, also began with the rescued collage of fossil and handmade paper from a gallery near the beach. 16" x 15" x 2". SOLD

The Beginning I 22" x24" x2" This piece, part of the Reliquary series, features a small collage made from a fossil, cloth, and handmade paper. This collage rode out Katrina in a gallery half a block from the beach in Bay St. Louis; I recovered it several weeks after the storm. In this incarnation, I have paired it with several pieces of plywood, enhanced with a stucco-lo=ike finish, and acrlic paint.

Reliquary Angel I 15" x 7". This is a piece in the Reliquary series which also incorporates storm debris. I purchased the angel and the glass, but all three of the wood elements are from debris piles. To see more pieces in the reliquary series, please follow the link above. SOLD

There have been many wonderful things that have come out of my storm experience and the best of these are the connections I have made with beautiful, loving people all over the United States. Several of these new friends have shared their lives with me as well, and I would like to post two poems which were sent to me. The first is by DC area poet DJ Gaskin. She purchased a piece of mine and as we got to know each other through email, she wrote this poem. To read more about DJ please visit her site at http://www.lionesspress.com/. The second is from Jim Curry, who lives in Rome, GA. Jim and I became acquainted during my stay in Rome a couple of months ago. He does not have a web site, but was kind enough to share this poem with me. I thank both of these people for their generosity in sharing their lives with me and allowing me to post their work on this site.

Artist of the Waters

for Lori Gordon

When the rains stopped

crashing and the ocean stopped

ravaging and the tears began

to slow,

only then, she stepped over

the rubble that was her own—

from plates to canvas,

from paints to shoes—stepped

into the rest, and began

to look.

Looking past the waste

of each castaway artifact—family

photo, mantelpiece, the post

of a bed, the leg

of a chair, a book, a comb, a still

life, a salt shaker, a magazine

cover in a language unknown,

a dog collar, a dress, the arm

of a doll—she meant

to see

beyond the tattered and torn and

broken things, to gaze

into the pain

of the loss

of each and the whole

that wove together each quilt

of a life. And in the seeing she began

to heal.

© 2007 DJ Gaskin

The Stream of Life

How wondrous is the stream of life;
She mostly gently flows,
And with ease she takes the varied turns,
As if intuitively she knows.

Some obstacles of nature
She encounters along the way,
But she molds herself around them,
Enfolds them as she may.

But let the mighty rains begin
Creating swell on swell,
And the stream of life from gentle state
Becomes a raging hell.

The result will not be pleasant;
There may be damage from the swell
And a sense that life has betrayed itself,
For all will not seem well.

But when the mighty rains subside,
Just wait, and you will see;
In time, a pleasant, gentle flow
Once more the stream will be.

James L. Curry, Jr.

South by Southeast has at its center a wonderful, horn and wood carved face of a buddha. I purchased this recently from some folks who were cleaning out a storm damaged building. The figure was paired with two carved Chinese panels, a piece of embossed sheet metal, a circular Chines platter from that same sale, and a rusted Mexican frame.

Crescent City Streetcar centers around the damaged metal building which I have had since very soon after the storm. I never knew what to do with it until I paired it with the wonderful old metal sign, and the stained baking pan. I added a strip of handmade paper on the left for balance, and adhered several pieces of glass from that wonderful old smashed disco ball I found on the beach in Waveland. More of the glass tiles, a fragment of fine furniture, and three wood fleur de lis complete the piece. SOLD

Heat of Dixie began with a piece of debris which I have handled dozens of times, waiting to find a place for it. I am not sure what this is, that forms the body of the figure; a knife case perhaps? It is badly damaged, and held together by several coatings of a medium. I rested it upon a purchased metal cross and sandwiched in between is an Alabama license plate. The face and "crown" are of polymer clay.

Broken Angel was composed from a damaged dragonfly candle holder I salvaged from some debris pile, a clump of feathers from a hat which I picked up out of the debris of an antique store, a purchased frame, a mardi gras face, an old earring, and a circular wood piece with a metal bracket.

Heart of Dixie began with the beautifully rusted license plate, which I mounted on a couple of pieces of scrap board. The body was made from a tassle which came from the debris of an antiques store, the arms are made from another scrap of wood, the face is a salvaged porton of a mardi gras necklace, and the hair is a fragment of cheesecloth from one of my workshops.

Full Moon Kitty was composed from three pieces of wood, all salvaged from different debris piles.

Seed Pod Saint III was composed from two pieces of scrap plywood, an intriguing seed pod, a face of polymer clay and some wings I cut out of matboard. 8" x 9"

Seed Pod Saint II was created from a piece of scrap plywood, the front to a drawer, a seed pod, matboard wings and a face of polymer clay. 18"x 6"

Silk Angel was created from a piece of scrap plywood, a scrap of canvas, a decorative ceiling tile, door hardware, wood candle holder, pieces of silk torn from a pillow which I recovered from a debris pile in the Bay, and a face I made from polymer clay. 16" x 18"

Zodiac features three removable neck pieces. It was created from two pieces of plywood supports which were covered with a variety of hand made papers and coated with medium. The face of the figure was formed from polymer clay and painted with acrylics, and mounted on top of a brass crab which my friend Brenda recovered from her property after Katrina. The Body was once a tin ceiling tile that graced a house in pre-Katrina New Orleans. The arms are fragments of one of my bracelets which my husband found in the back almost a year after Katrina, and the leaves were taken from a smashed basket. The neck pieces include beads of stone, glass, and acrylic, as well as African brass kirdi beads and African trade beads, and a Chinese coin. 28" x 28" Other pieces in this series of wall art/wearable art may be seen at my other blog at: http://gordonmixedmedia.blogspot.com.

Parrot and Palms is made from a neat painting of a parrot, a furniture fragment, and a painted bamboo platter. SOLD

Darling Saint was created from a salvaged tin sign, a piece of painted plywood and a carved wooden Virgin of Guadelupe which found its way to me from Mexico, via Rhode Island.