Take a Moment

Beginning pre-pandemic, this piece continues exploring the ordinary spaces of my days and the connection to water as a space of transformation. I designed the work to push the traditional book form and to use the movement of the structure as a symbol of a year. Each time the book is arranged it is uniquely sculpted with hills and valleys representing life’s joys and disappointments and mountains and curves representing life’s grief and celebrations. With the realities of 2020 the piece evolved to hold the views and reactions of Americans to the pandemic in the signatures (Pew Research March 2021 survey).

This book is in the Cynthia Sears’ collection at the Bainbridge Island Art Museum.

©Debbi Commodore

https://www.pewresearch.org/2021/03/05/in-their-own-words-americans-describe-the-struggles-and-silver-linings-of-the-covid-19-pandemic/

365

What will be revealed in a year? What if the year was shaped like a book that had not been yet been written? And what if this book pushed the traditional book form and could be sculpted with the hills and valleys representing life’s joys and disappointments—mountains and curves of grief and celebrations—what shape would the year take? Would it have many small gentle bends or overlap weaving over itself forming and opening itself to what might come?

Coptic stitch structure with 365 signatures, assorted papers and watch parts, 2.25 x 2.25 x 37 inches | Unique | 2016 | Photograph by Chris Tumbusch

©Debbi Commodore

This

In the second year of the pandemic my day has new rhythms and routines. In THIS, two anchors move together, intersect, and frequently live in tension—my calendar, with its beauty and practical function, and the morning newspaper with its headlines of pandemic life. The predictability of the calendar and the unpredictable daily headlines weave a repeating rhythm—up and down, down and up through my days of 2021.

This

Second year

Is it different?

Unimaginable loss

Calendar pages turn

Months blend

Days blur

Heavy headlines

Followed by heavier headlines

A foggy, dull, numbness

is this a real thing?

Calendar pages turn

Their shots

My shots

Devastating loss

This year.

©Debbi Commodore

Chronos and Kairos

At what points in a year will kairos moments or opportune times, be revealed? What if the chronological year was shaped like a book that had not been yet been written? And what if this book pushed the traditional book form and included markers where Kairos were sculpted along-side the hills and valleys representing life’s joys and disappointments—mountains and curves of grief and celebrations—what shape would the year take? Would it have many small gentle bends or overlap weaving over itself forming and opening itself to what might come?

Coptic stitch structure with 365 signatures, assorted one-of-a-kind paste papers | 2.5 x 2 x 39 inches | Unique | 2018 | Photograph by Ross Mulhausen

Hope

The most solid and important things in our lives are ever-changing, either very slowly or quickly. Hope explores the rhythm and pattern of everyday life with the ups and downs of complex uncertainties. Intertwined in the hills and valleys of our journey is anticipation, faith, desire—hope. With its fragility, power and promise hope has the ability to beckon us, moving us further along in our journey.

Accordion flutter book housed in paper sleeve, Japanese paper, thread, book cloth, silk ribbon | 2.5 x 4.25 x .75 inches (opens to 28 inches) | 64 pages | Unique | 2013

1948-Fall

1948-Fall uniquely chronicles my grandparent’s lives for three months through their counter checks (bank checks and their bank statement). Counter checks were commonplace at the stores much the way the credit/debt processing machine is now found at the register.

Nearly ten years ago, as I held the stapled bundle of counter checks and thumbed through recognizing store names I traveled back to lazy afternoons sipping ice-tea or soda pop in the backyard under the shade tree with my grandfather recounting a lifetime of stories. I have vivid memories of shopping with him and his response “national” when asked which bank counter check he wanted (there were only two choices). I can’t help but to pause in reflection to a simpler time without “usernames” and “passwords”. My fingers run across these canceled checks and I notice the absence of an account number—the bank processed his checks base on recognizing his signature.

The journey of this project was first overcoming the intimidation of changing the way the checks were bundled for over 60 years and transforming them to a story format that honors the people my grandparents were in a time and place much different than today. I was drawn to the pattern of his signature on the bottom of the page, the familiarity of his handwriting and the resurfacing of familiar businesses names. I found this intimate process a returning home for a visit and finding everything was just as sweet as you remembered.

11 (5 sheet) signatures and fold-out bank summary statement sewn on tapes with exposed spine, materials include Missouri walnut wood cover, counter checks, wool thread, linen thread, and linen tape | 224 pages | 4 ¾ x 3 5/8 x 1 3/16 inches | Unique | 2012 | Photograph by artist

Passage of Time