Holding Container

Alex Norby

Interview by L. Valena

Let’s start from the top. Can you start by telling me what you responded to?

I responded to a mixed media image. It’s mostly fabric- sections made with a photosensitive process. The artist laid shapes on them, and there are six of those sewn together. What really stood out to me in that was the indigo blue, and the warmer colors around that. The six shapes are also part of three different blocks. I was reading this image vertically, although if it was turned to the side it could also be a sewn triptych. There are tassels that are sewn in, that are orange, moving down the image. And then these other ribbons of orange, red and white color, that are sewn so they create little waves. So a lot of patterns and movement in this piece. When I initially saw this, the thing that came to mind was wanting to respond to the movement, which becamepart of my process, because there’s so much movement happening in the piece.

What happened next?

I took some time to just sit with the image, meditate on it visually. And I actually moved my body in ways that were kind of reminiscent of how the tassels were moving. A lot of swaying. I’m an art therapist, and I was working on this at the end of the day. I acknowledge that a lot of what I responded to was also what I personally needed in that moment. The movement was coming out of that, andI know the final art piece absolutely came out of where I’ve been the last two weeks.

The other thing that resonated like the movement and rhythm in the piece , was the photosensitive process of the background imagery.. It mostly looks like elements from nature that were put on, a lot of leaf shapes.

What happened next?

I did movement in my office. And then I did a little bit of work with water-soluble pastels. A literal first response piece as a way to kind of build up to the larger piece I was going to work on. When I got home, when I really set aside some time to focus on this, I started pouring paint, and really watered down the medium, which is not something I actually ever do very much. I think I was curious about trying something new, but also needed to do something that was fluid. The material needed to move the way my body was moving. I also painted on wood board. I’ve never really poured paint like this before, and I’m not sure if that’s the material you’re supposed to use or not, but that’s what I did. It was really interesting for something so fluid to be hitting something so hard. The surface soaks in a little bit of color, but it doesn’t look quite the same as when you pour onto canvas. I thought it was interesting that there was this tension in the materials.

I did two different sessions in one day, of painting and letting layers dry. I was playing with that indigo color, responding in different shades. I used brushes, and mixed paint in little cups with fluid medium and a retarder to keep it from trying out. I was literally just splashing that onto the surface. I also used a sponge to move things around. And I think I was just having fun, trying to be playful. Noticing the movement.

When I went back to it a second day, I started to bring in some of the peach, orange, and burnt orange colors that were in the piece I was responding to. Then I just kept going with the layers. I got pretty messy. I was finger painting, which is funny because my art therapist self was asking,  Was there a regression in that? But whatever, I was having fun and moving with the medium. If I needed to be in a regressive state, that’s what I needed.

I think a conversation with a friend happened between all of the blue layers and then the orange colors about how I feel like a holding container for my clients, how I hold space. This past year has been so hard for everyone, but the last month has been really tough balancing my practice and teaching. Work has felt especially heavy. I was speaking to a friend, and I told her, “I feel like I’m a pot made of air-dry clay, that’s had so much water poured into it that it’s disintegrating. It was never fired, so it’s just coming apart- that’s what I feel like.” I kept thinking about this metaphor of being a holding container, and that’s the image that came out of it. Once the white wash was dry, and the orange paint was dry, I went in with oil pastel and drew this container shape in the center. And then I kept working on some of these colors until I felt like it was a finished piece.

When I look at the finished piece now, I also see that there’s movement on the left hand side. And the container is sitting in a space that is firm, and not melting now. I needed this- this was a really grounding practice for myself.

In my art therapy practice, I do a lot of art making with clients. But overall, during the pandemic, I just haven’t had a lot of energy to engage in my own practice as much. I’ll do response art here and there when I need to, or I’ll work alongside a client, but primarily that’s smaller or more contained, using watercolor or drawing. But I love painting. I’m really grateful to have had the accountability to finish the piece, and for a direct prompt to return to something that is so grounding, and that I love so much. It’s been hard to access that this year.

Do you feel like when you were making this piece, with the pouring techniques and stuff, were you returning to something or was it brand new?

No, that was brand new. I’ve never done that. Another thing that might have worked its way in was termination art I created with a client who I’ve worked closely with for a long time.  It was a good, but hard, goodbye.,. One of the last things that we did together was use really fluid mediums. So I’m curious if that worked its way in.

When you look at it now, does it make you feel more grounded, or is it a reminder of the groundlessness that you were trying to move away from?

When I look at the finished piece now, I absolutely feel like it’s more grounded. Even the visual elements that are present. There’s kind of a horizon line in the bottom, the container is sitting on something. And it’s also not pouring out. I also think it’s interesting that it’s in these different parts. I think about what all of my parts need right now if I’m going to feel more grounded. I think that container is solid, stable, and strong. It’s not disintegrating.

Something I’m remembering about my process is that I moved the wood board around a lot. I was never really sure which way it was oriented. And part of that was about moving the paint around, but needing to keep turning it in different ways, standing above it and looking down. Just to get different perspectives. So I think it took me a while to find the orientation.

Do you think that the image emerging as a container helped orient it?

Yeah. That absolutely helped orient the piece, because I went in and added the baseline after that. Another part that really stands out to me, is the center piece that has a lilac wash on top. You can really see the layers beneath that, and I’m really drawn to that part. I also think there’s some layers in the upper right corner that look dark and messy. It’s acknowledging the shadow stuff, but also the lightness I’m finding through engaging in the movement and returning to a grounding practice. Maybe I’m reading way too much into it, but that’s the meaning I tend to find in my work!

Do you have any advice for someone else approaching this project for the first time?

I think to go with your gut. I’m glad that I incorporated movement as a way to ground myself in my art making, but I’m also really curious about... what if I had filmed myself moving, and that had been my piece? I’m glad that I did this, and I think my gut response was that I needed to move. So to follow that, and notice what you notice.

I did have thoughts at some points where I wondered if I had responded enough, but what does that even mean? Just allow it to be a starting point. And I think the other part that felt like a personal connection, was the materials that the artist before me had used with the photosensitive fabric. Years ago, I used that material at the organization I used to work at with middle school girls. It was nice to reflect back on a time of really fun art making with kiddos.

I do like this final product a lot, but I think what was most meaningful to me was the process. Process over product, and then presence over process. Allowing all of that to be the balance. I think the thing that stood out to me was that I did something that felt unfamiliar with the pouring medium. In the end I don’t even think this looks like a poured painting, but using the materials in a way that felt new and unfamiliar to me felt like an important part of my process.

Call Number: Y46VA | Y51VA.noHo

Alex Norby is an art therapist, educator, and artist living in Somerville, MA. She is interested in the intersection of creativity and bodyfulness in her clinical work, and emphasizes process, presence, and transition in her painting. Her current favorite form of expression is found in the kitchen- baking pies with a very fat lattice.