Artist Brenda Jones spotlights gender roles, pigeonholed femininity in sculptural work at Artworks Loveland exhibit
Feb. 18—In 1993, folk singer Dar Williams released "When I Was a Boy" — a track that recounts her freewheeling days of childhood when she adventured with wild abandon, climbed, explored the woods and returned home with a "grass-stained shirt and dusty knees."
On the tune, she sings, "I was a kid that you would like/ Just a small boy on her bike/ Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw /My neighbor came outside to say, 'Get your shirt' /I said 'No way, it's the last time I'm not breaking any law'/ And now I'm in a clothing store and the sign says less is more/ More that's tight means more to see, more for them, not more for me..."
Southern Colorado artist Brenda Jones, of South Fork, has consistently woven the themes of gender roles into her sculptural apparel-inspired ceramics, rich with nuanced narratives.
Her latest show, "The Things She Learned" — at Artworks Center for Contemporary Art in Loveland, running through March 27 — spotlights the societal confines and expectations of the 1950s and '60s in regards to how females were told to appear and conduct themselves.
The captivating and colorful collection doesn't just hark back to the "Mad Men" days of misogyny, but sparks conversations surrounding how women are still measured and judged by certain physical attributes and style, by members of the opposite sex and each other.
The sculptural dresses — hollow and hand-built — can be viewed as odes to vintage fashion and femininity, yet also hint at the loaded concept of a woman's place and all the trappings that coincide with it.
From ceramics depicting paper dolls whose dress print patterns range from martini glasses and television sets to purse-like structures packed with molded beauty supplies and the occasional hammer, Jones crafts work that brings on grins and makes viewers reflect on all the roles women are expected to play and those that they were forbidden from taking on not so long ago.
The "What She Learned in School" series features ceramic rain boots that perhaps — at first — call to mind days of defiant puddle jumping, yet they are adorned with various images that dig a little deeper.
On "What She Learned in School (You Look Great. Did You Lose Weight)" Jones has painted a little girl, wearing black Mary Janes, holding up what appears to be a very heavy cake. A splattering of donuts, ice cream cones and popsicles pop against the pink glaze.
A pair of Chuck Taylor's Converse, made out of clay and bejeweled with red, white and blue sequins, aptly titled "Dorothy's Other Shoes," is one of several pieces that has already sold.
The glimmering sneakers rebelliously replace the heeled ruby red slippers. In their presence, viewers can't help but ponder what would have happened if Ms. Gale strayed from the yellow brick road and followed her own path, one of her making.
Not necessarily classifying herself under the moniker of a feminist artist, Jones welcomes the different interpretations of her pieces that conjure cheerful nostalgia and evoke significant mulling.
While some speak to the weighted idea of waiting on Prince Charming, others point to the monotonousness and bulk of domesticity.
We caught up with the creative to find out more about the inspiration behind her most recent work, her process and what she hopes these pieces add to the homes and gardens of buyers.
Daily Camera: Love how this recent show brings up the idea of gender roles and explores the nature in which women talk to each other about physical appearances. What inspired you to want to explore these themes in your work?
Brenda Jones: I grew up with grade school reading books like "Jack and Janet," "Tip and Mitten" and "Dick and Jane." These books typically showed the little girls inside playing dress up or having imaginary tea parties. The boys were outside riding bikes and having mishaps playing in the mud. In addition to this, as girls growing up in the early 1960s, we heard comments from adults telling us not to get dirty, have perfect posture, be quiet — what will people think of you if you play with frogs, for example — or have a wrinkled dress, while at the same time the boys were encouraged to play, to get dirty. We heard things like "sugar and spice" for girls and "snips and snails" for boys.
This kind of pigeonholing has continued even in some cases today with comments to our young girls like, "You look so cute, what a pretty dress" or "Your hair looks amazing." We know these phrases that are concentrated on outward appearances or behaviors. I believe, even today, we have to make conscious choices when we are around young girls to encourage them with phrases like, "You seem so in control" instead of "Aren't you pretty today" or "You look so nice, did you lose weight?" I grew up hearing comments about appearance rather than what I could do. Although I believe we are moving away from that, we still, as a society, focus a lot on what women wear over what they can do. Think about how many of the comments about the inauguration this year focused on what the women involved were wearing. Or, go back a few years and it does seem like most of the comments about Princess Diana centered around her outfits and hairstyle.
DC: What's your process like for creating? Do you sketch the pieces out beforehand or simply get the clay and go to work organically?
BJ: I do a little of both. I feel a little lost — actually completely stressed — if I don't have my sketchbook within reach at any given time. More than actually sketching out the dress form, I do a lot of note taking and sketching of the imagery that will go on the surface. As I build the form, I let the clay work organically for the movement of the form and the overall height.
DC: Would you consider yourself a feminist artist?
BJ: I do get asked that frequently. I actually don't really consider myself a feminist artist as that is generally not the first thing I think about when I make art. More than anything, I make things that are close to my heart and are a part of my personal experiences. I did go through the 1970s absolutely taken by more feminist artists like Judy Chicago and Miriam Schapiro. And, interestingly, I have made pieces that seem to speak to feminist ideas, like 12-foot-tall aprons that were drier sheets printed with images of burnt iron imprints that were sewn together. It does seem like my work tends to circle back to feminist thoughts, but it isn't really the first thing in my head when creating.
DC: What are you hoping visitors take away from this show?
BJ: What I would like people to take away is just a joy of the imagery. I want them to be able to appreciate the work for simply the color, pattern and narrative, but at the same time see that there can be an underlying story. I am very happy when others can construct their own stories from viewing the work if it sparks a memory. For example, "She Knows Her Place(s)" has the image of a vintage school map and classroom and I would be pleased if when people look at it they remember the history classroom they sat in, while at the same time thinking that knowing her place can refer to a confined expectation or the whole world.
DC: Looks like several pieces have already sold. What are you hoping these pieces add to the homes of art buyers?
BJ: When these are in a home, I hope they add a smile. The colors are intentional for that. At the same time, I hope that they can inspire a conversation among members of the family or with those who visit. Some of my dresses are actually in gardens, as opposed to in a house. There are two currently in a sculpture garden in Abiquiú, N.M.
If you go: Artworks, 310 N. Railroad Ave., Loveland, is open from 1-4 p.m. Tuesday through Friday and noon-4 p.m. on Saturday.