Paper Prayers
Paper Prayers Project
Canadian Museum of Civilization
"I shall cherish the taste of your lips - now that you've gone." Unsigned, this is one of many intensely personal and intimate statements made into a paper prayer.
Using small pieces of paper or cardboard, most around 4 1/2" by 12", each has been designed and constructed by an individual in support of people living with AIDS. Over 20 large panels made up of these small cards are on display, each one measuring approximately four foot wide by eight or nine feet high.
This is not the typical kind of collective tribute constructed around AIDS. For starters, all of the work is unsigned and therefore lends itself far more easily, to the sense of a group of people coming together to remember, inspire, and in some cases, to warn. Also the small size of the individual pieces produces a markedly different viewing experience from viewing the now gigantic AIDS quilt, for instance, and unlike the latter project, these pieces are not all necessarily dedicated to someone who has died.
The coordination of the project by Jill Sobcov cannot have been easy. Contributors include many children, students at all levels up to university, artists, friends, family members, caregivers and visitors to the museum. Mail art paper prayers sent to the museum from abroad also have a presence here. Moreover, this year an exchange has been initiated with the Artists Proof Studio in South Africa and the Howard Yezerski Gallery in Boston, Massachusetts.
A large panel of South African work stands near the exhibit's beginning. Made using heavier hand-made papers, most appear to be stamped or printed with words and drawings. "The colour is not an obstacle to love someone—like AIDS it can transmit to anyone," one prayer reads, next to a heart encircling two people of different ethnic backgrounds.
Three impressive images made in batik shown in a glass case give further testimony to the ravages of AIDS in Africa. Made by a high school teacher living with AIDS in Uganda, the images show the impact on a local level: a mother and daughter, the sole survivors of a family, taking a break from their journey to drink water; and in another, an orphan gazes at the coffins of family members. Modesto Ombiga made it possible for these works to be shown. Unfortunately the artist's name is not given - perhaps by her own choice?
The Paper Prayers project began twelve years ago at the Howard Yezerski Gallery. "The Japanese tradition of offering decorated strips of paper as a wish for good health and a cute for sickness" inspired it, states the press release. The gallery in Boston saw it as "a collective expression of support and compassion towards people living with HIV and AIDS".
Using a wild multitude of media, including feathers, glitter, sequins, photographs, fake jewels, pencil, markers, crayons, felt, netting, lollipop sticks, condoms, the relatively small size of each individual work achieves a good fit after assembly in the larger panels. They can be viewed from a distance to get a sense of a collective construction, colour, line and shape - all of it, of course, completely arbitrary. Closer viewing is more rewarding. You can easily find yourself adrift in the remarkable visual and thematic diversity.
"I remember my Uncle as a kind and gentle man when I was younger he always gave me piggy back rides. I remember once when I was visiting him we walked across the biggest bridge in Montreal. At the cottage he always throo me in the water. When he started getting sick I thought he would never die he was a rilly rilly strong man and I bet every one agrees. He was a very kind man to every one he new I bet every one will miss him."
"I will miss him very much."
Handwritten in the slightly wobbly script of a child, these words cover a small oblong of white paper stuck in the centre of a larger oblong piece of red card.
Many contributors, young and old, clearly have great senses of humour. "Buttons hold pants together, but people hold the world together," writes one on a dark brown-coloured card with assorted buttons placed in and around it, while another cautions, "Slip it on before you get it on."
Surpassing the adults in uninhibited abandon, it is most often the children's pieces that beam out of the panels. The words, "No numbers can amount the love we have for you," are flanked by undulating numbers written in pencil and two thin lines of greenish glitter.
A great smiling face on a largely pink and black work spans the panel's width, boasting lollipop sticks, sequins, glitter, hand prints in paint and buttons. It has no text at all. Yet the unabashed warmth, joy and freedom, gushing forth make it a marvelous tribute to the human spirit, in style and in substance.
Published in The Ottawa Xpress, 2001
Using small pieces of paper or cardboard, most around 4 1/2" by 12", each has been designed and constructed by an individual in support of people living with AIDS. Over 20 large panels made up of these small cards are on display, each one measuring approximately four foot wide by eight or nine feet high.
This is not the typical kind of collective tribute constructed around AIDS. For starters, all of the work is unsigned and therefore lends itself far more easily, to the sense of a group of people coming together to remember, inspire, and in some cases, to warn. Also the small size of the individual pieces produces a markedly different viewing experience from viewing the now gigantic AIDS quilt, for instance, and unlike the latter project, these pieces are not all necessarily dedicated to someone who has died.
The coordination of the project by Jill Sobcov cannot have been easy. Contributors include many children, students at all levels up to university, artists, friends, family members, caregivers and visitors to the museum. Mail art paper prayers sent to the museum from abroad also have a presence here. Moreover, this year an exchange has been initiated with the Artists Proof Studio in South Africa and the Howard Yezerski Gallery in Boston, Massachusetts.
A large panel of South African work stands near the exhibit's beginning. Made using heavier hand-made papers, most appear to be stamped or printed with words and drawings. "The colour is not an obstacle to love someone—like AIDS it can transmit to anyone," one prayer reads, next to a heart encircling two people of different ethnic backgrounds.
Three impressive images made in batik shown in a glass case give further testimony to the ravages of AIDS in Africa. Made by a high school teacher living with AIDS in Uganda, the images show the impact on a local level: a mother and daughter, the sole survivors of a family, taking a break from their journey to drink water; and in another, an orphan gazes at the coffins of family members. Modesto Ombiga made it possible for these works to be shown. Unfortunately the artist's name is not given - perhaps by her own choice?
The Paper Prayers project began twelve years ago at the Howard Yezerski Gallery. "The Japanese tradition of offering decorated strips of paper as a wish for good health and a cute for sickness" inspired it, states the press release. The gallery in Boston saw it as "a collective expression of support and compassion towards people living with HIV and AIDS".
Using a wild multitude of media, including feathers, glitter, sequins, photographs, fake jewels, pencil, markers, crayons, felt, netting, lollipop sticks, condoms, the relatively small size of each individual work achieves a good fit after assembly in the larger panels. They can be viewed from a distance to get a sense of a collective construction, colour, line and shape - all of it, of course, completely arbitrary. Closer viewing is more rewarding. You can easily find yourself adrift in the remarkable visual and thematic diversity.
"I remember my Uncle as a kind and gentle man when I was younger he always gave me piggy back rides. I remember once when I was visiting him we walked across the biggest bridge in Montreal. At the cottage he always throo me in the water. When he started getting sick I thought he would never die he was a rilly rilly strong man and I bet every one agrees. He was a very kind man to every one he new I bet every one will miss him."
"I will miss him very much."
Handwritten in the slightly wobbly script of a child, these words cover a small oblong of white paper stuck in the centre of a larger oblong piece of red card.
Many contributors, young and old, clearly have great senses of humour. "Buttons hold pants together, but people hold the world together," writes one on a dark brown-coloured card with assorted buttons placed in and around it, while another cautions, "Slip it on before you get it on."
Surpassing the adults in uninhibited abandon, it is most often the children's pieces that beam out of the panels. The words, "No numbers can amount the love we have for you," are flanked by undulating numbers written in pencil and two thin lines of greenish glitter.
A great smiling face on a largely pink and black work spans the panel's width, boasting lollipop sticks, sequins, glitter, hand prints in paint and buttons. It has no text at all. Yet the unabashed warmth, joy and freedom, gushing forth make it a marvelous tribute to the human spirit, in style and in substance.
Published in The Ottawa Xpress, 2001