I just returned from Colorado where I saw some wonderful art, like these ephemeral, powerful fiber art garments by Wendy Mike at the Auric Gallery that floated like magical gossamer armor.
While I was walking, fascinated, through this amazing exhibition, I heard someone ask the gallery owner, “Is It Archival?” It’s one of the most common questions artists hear.
The question usually arises when someone learns that a piece contains unconventional materials: a scrap of paper from an old book, a rusty object, a found photograph, a fragment of cloth, a piece of cardboard rescued from the recycling bin, or silk stiffened with polymer..
Will it last? It’s a reasonable question. Museums ask it. Conservators ask it. Collectors ask it. Artists ask it of themselves. And yet I sometimes wonder if we are asking the wrong question.
What if the more important question is: Did it touch your heart?
We live in a culture that sometimes places enormous value on permanence. We buy acid-free boxes, UV-protective glass, archival inks, conservation-grade adhesives, and museum-quality papers. We are encouraged to think in decades and centuries.
But human experience rarely works that way. A flower is not archival. A sand mandala is not archival. A handwritten note tucked into a pocket is not archival. A child’s drawing on the refrigerator is not archival. Yet each of these can hold tremendous meaning.
As artists, we certainly want our work to be well made. We want it to endure as long as reasonably possible. There is nothing wrong with using materials that honor longevity and craftsmanship. But sometimes the pursuit of permanence overshadows the purpose of making.
Many of the objects I create are what I think of as objects of devotion. They are vessels, figures, fragments, and assemblages built from humble materials—paper, wax, cloth, clay, rusted treasures, and found remnants of other lives. They are not always intended to survive for hundreds of years.
Their purpose is not immortality. Their purpose is connection.
They remind us of a memory, a longing, a story, a mystery. They give shape to something that was previously invisible. They create a moment of attention in a distracted world.
Perhaps that is enough. After all, how long does something need to last to be valuable? A conversation may last only a few minutes. A sunset disappears in moments. A piece of music fades as soon as the final note is played. Yet their impact can stay with us for a lifetime.
Maybe the true archive is not the object itself but the imprint it leaves behind. The joy of making. The comfort of holding. The spark of recognition. The memory carried forward.
Archival materials matter. But perhaps meaning matters more.
I love what you wrote! You are an inspiration!
Love you, Lesta – 🙂
So very true! Archival isn’t necessary – but how the piece makes you feel is.
Lyn, these are timely words for me. Forever creative and recently beginning my 80th trip around the sun. Another move, a smaller space, what goes with me, what is left behind. In reality it can’t be ‘left behind’ it must move on.
I will continue to create and remind myself the joy is in the creating not in the lifetime of the outcome.
Namaste
Jann
Your comment is such a gift – you need to write more about this, Jann – it’s wonderful.
Thank you, Lyn, for addressing this.
I agree that well-made art is important, especially if you are selling your work. However, the ‘is it archival’ concern shouldn’t interfere with spontaneous, from the heart and soul creations.
What a perfect summary, Louise!!! Thank you!!
Such relevant questions you’ve brought forward here, Lyn. Joy, connection, and impact are priceless and are some of the priorities on which I choose to live my life. Thanks, as ever, for the gifts you so generously offer to the world.
Lorita, thank you – connection and impact – that’s what we all are here for as a community, too 🙂
Oh Lyn, YES!…and you said it all so eloquently!!
Thanks you, Penney – sending a hug!!
Excellent thoughts on this question- is it archival? The most important question to me is – how did it make you feel? Nothing lasts forever but our memories and feelings will be with us for a long time.
Marilyn, that is perfect – and your artwork reminds me of that feeling of connection and joy.
Hi Lyn, Thank you for your enriching emails always deep & insightful, a big love of your artwork keep inspiring us with being you.
lol Vicci
Vicci, thanks for making my day – and thank you for being a fellow creator and encourager.
As a collage artist and my name isn’t Picasso, Rauschenberg or Warhol I don’t worry about the archival nature of my work. I do art for my soul, wellbeing and possibly the joy it can bring to others. I believe art is a process that is a shared event for the creator and viewer and that is where it’s value lies.
This is the core of it – “I do art for my soul, wellbeing and possibly the joy it can bring to others.” Perfect!♥
Yes to all of this!
The questiona my husband and I usually ask are: “Does this piece want to come home with us? And if so, where will we put it?” I don’t think archival has ever entered our minds as we don’t expect things to last forever.
As for our own art, the joy is in the making. The cloth assemblages that I create are intended to be used and laundered, which will surely hasten their end of life, but will also ensure that they give joy all the more often in the meantime.
I don’t think I’ve ever asked if something is archival other than in relation to my work at the Art League – and your work, Liz, is so heartfelt and generous and connects directly with your advocacy for peace and community.