Frequency Illusion & Confluence
Notes from my visit to the Hallie Ford Museum and thoughts on a history repeating.
I’m sure we’ve all experienced it. Frequency Illusion (aka the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon) - the weird thing that happens when you become aware of a new word or idea or subject or person and suddenly you see that same thing pop up everywhere.
But what do you call it when it’s not a new thing, but the reemergence of something old? And when it’s not everywhere, but instead seems to be moving toward an unexpected confluence of things.
Well, this is where I find myself lately.
Before I lead you down this meandering thought train of mine, however, I want to take a moment to thank you for reading here. While I try to post weekly, my posts are also impulsive. I write when I find a subject that inspires me (or aggravates me to the point of needing expression). I hope if I find it interesting, amusing, confounding, or educational, that maybe if I write about it here, you will too. And while I’ve had many half-thoughts lately, I couldn’t quite flush them out into a fully-formed idea. Also, deadlines loom and my studio time requires more from me right now.
I did, however, find time to visit a new-to-me art museum, which is where I will begin this particular studio note. (I will say, the fact I hadn’t been there before, even though it’s less than an hour away, is rather embarrassing, but it’s true, and I now highly recommend it!)
Last week I enjoyed a visit to the Hallie Ford Museum of Art. If you don’t know, Hallie Brown Ford (1905-2007) is a big name here in Oregon (and Oklahoma, as it happens). Her legacy here is ever-present, especially in the arts world, where she has donated millions, and where she and her husband created The Ford Family Foundation in 1957. And while I was familiar with the foundation and their support of visual artists through grants, fellowships, and other opportunities - I was somehow unaware of her gifts to Willamette University following her move to Salem, Oregon in the ‘70s, where she took art classes and eventually became the lead donor to their art museum which opened in 1998.
This is where my confluence of two disparate subjects begins.
WWII and Vintage Materials
1. WWII
Where these thoughts all started was much further back than my trip to an Art Museum. I grew up with WWII as the ever-present example of good vs. evil. From that historical event, it was easy to find heroes and villains, and they made appearances in everything I consumed as a child (from watching Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman fighting Nazis to the Indiana Jones movie franchise; from reading Diary of Anne Frank to Catch-22) and, as you will see, would continue to be present in the media I consumed through adulthood.
I also grew up in a place and at a time when cheering your team was a serious ritual activity. Every Saturday of my childhood during football season, I would don the purple and gold (Go Dawgs!) and learn to jump up in formation as Husky stadium would create its first “wave” of fans - when all I really wanted to do was pet the fluffy mascot or feed the pigeons outside the stadium. But this American pastime would make it clear - you’re either a winner or a loser and you are loyal to your team.
After studying German in High School and continuing in College, I took a semester off in the Winter of 1989 to travel solo. And it was then, I realized the world was much bigger than I once thought. It was a time when the internet was brand new. It was easy to encapsulate ourselves in our own tiny world, and I was amazed to find how much bigger it all was. The pictures in books just don’t have the same impact as seeing historical buildings and places in person.
And then I became an accidental witness to history unfolding.
November 1989
I was perched at the bar of a pub in Heidelberg, enjoying a morning coffee when news broke of the Fall of the Berlin Wall….I arrived [in West Berlin] to see a throng of people pouring across the Brandenburg Gate and filling the streets after quickly chipping away souvenir pieces of the looming wall. I could see Tom Brokaw perched on the top of a white van, floodlights surrounding him for his live on-air reporting looking out over the top of the wall. The crowds continued through through town, filling shops with enthusiastic purchases of boom boxes and alcohol. Without anywhere to stay the night, after a few hours of watching the festive crowds, I boarded a fully packed train back to Heidelberg, where I managed to secure a seat in a train car with an East German family and a couple of Americans. Since I was the only person in the group who spoke German and English, I quickly became the translator for the Americans while the German family passed Cherry Schnapps around in celebration. While the memories of that time are fading, I will always remember the grandfather of the group. He lived on a small farm with a large family of his own, but it was his brother, whom he hadn’t seen since the war, he was talking about that day…. I still think of him fondly and the joy with which he shared his “woman’s drink” of Schnapps with us all as we traveled down those train tracks together.
- A Painter’s Journey: Art found in Process, Poetry & Possibility by Jennifer Lommers
This experience was not only once in a lifetime, but taught me that the world and the people in it are more complex than what I was taught to believe. The “teams” were fiction. As with so many people before and after - this man, and his family, were caught in a war that neither wanted. They were divided by forces outside their control.
Now let’s jump forward.
With the horrific events now unfolding in Palestine, history, and our perception of it, has taken hold of the present. In the beginning, it was hard for many people, my ignorant self included, to detach ourselves from the idea of Israel being on the right side of history (having suffered their own genocide) in the one that is currently occurring. After all, they were and are themselves a persecuted people. Even now, I see the hesitation to turn against their waves of violence, as something precipitated by another horrific act - that of Hamas. But the brutal attacks that continue to be perpetuated on innocent Palestinian people is unthinkable as the destruction and taking of their remaining land persists. And I see America, with her good vs. evil simplistic viewpoint, struggling with the complexity and layers of history leading to this moment. But that is no excuse to allow these atrocities to continue. And no excuse to not say out loud: Free Palestine.
It seems to me, we are doomed to let history repeat itself when we oversimplify the outcome and learn the wrong lessons from the past. It is never us versus them. It is more often the powerful wanting more power and taking advantage and manipulating the powerless - regardless of race, religion, or heritage. But, I’m not here to pretend I’m a historian or that I have answers to questions that have plagued humankind throughout history. But these are the thoughts that co-exist as a backdrop for my current frequency illusion surrounding WWII.
Frequency Illusion
It started with learning French and wanting to read historical fiction set in France. I happened upon the books, “Mastering the Art of French Murder” by Colleen Cambridge (a fun little dalliance ala Nancy Drew and including Julia Child as a character), followed by “The Dressmaker’s Gift” by Fiona Valpy. This second book, set during WWII in occupied France, opened my eyes to the struggles of various people who had to live through war - overtly persecuted or not. Then, oddly enough, the last lines of this book included a reference to a “Dior” dress, and just as I was finishing it, I happened upon a current Apple TV show, “The New Look”, which tells the story of fashion designers Chanel and Dior in war-torn France. (I just finished episode 3 and am looking forward to the next.) At the same time, I started watching the Netflix series “Kleo” - showing a nuanced (albeit violent) perspective of life after the fall of the Berlin Wall (with beautiful set design and cinematography). I have also been taking in all the Best Picture Oscar Nominees, and “Zone of Interest” was a remarkably disturbing view of a Nazi Concentration Camp - from outside of the walls. It seemed that WWII references were appearing everywhere around me, but from perspectives and angles I had never before considered (which might be my ignorance, or maybe my upbringing), yet just as impactful (if not more) as the more traditional interpretations of historical events.
2. Vintage Materials
Independently of this moment of “Frequency Illusion” I was having, as many of you probably know (via
or by following me on Patreon on Instagram or receiving my newsletter) I have also been on a vintage materials collage spree precipitated by various vintage materials suddenly coming into my life. I am fortunate to have had family members who enjoyed constructing family trees and preserving our history in books, letters, and photos. I am not surprised, then, that my curiosity comes naturally, as I digitize what I find while sorting through boxes of memories and memorabilia. But after growing up seeing many of these items stored away never to be seen or used (just now finding them), I find it extraordinarily cathartic to drastically alter their original form - often destroying to make anew - once again giving purpose and life to something long forgotten. In the process I’ve gained a new appreciation and fascination for vintage and antique items, often searching for interesting antique stores while traveling - finding items everywhere from Seattle to Kansas.Hallie Ford Art Museum
And finally, these meandering thoughts come back to where I started - my visit last week to the Hallie Ford Art Museum.
It was a chance visit, prompted by an Instagram post from an artist I follow, Bruce Burris, announcing his artist talk relating to a new show, “Singular Visions: Self-Taught Artists from the Permanent Collection”. (I’ll come back to this show in a moment.)
Willem Volkersz: The View from Here
While waiting for this after-hours event to start (I arrived an hour early, unsure of where exactly the event was taking place), I was directed into the museum where I could explore their exhibits until it was time for the talk. I was immediately drawn into their featured show, “Willem Volkersz: The View from Here”. As a painter of vivid colors, I related to the splashes of color on large canvases but was additionally intrigued by the seemingly odd juxtaposition of vintage items and bright neon lights.
It was when I began reading about each piece I became fully enthralled.
Willem Volkersz (b. 1939) came to the United States from Holland in 1953 after experiencing the Nazi occupation and the devastation of World War II. Volkersz has often said that he has an immigrant's fascination with America, and as a teenager, he began hitchhiking and driving throughout the American West, camera in hand. Inspired by neon advertising signs that he encountered during his travels, Volkersz went on to pioneer the use of neon in art. His love of photography, travel, American roadside culture, Americana, and folk and visionary art also served as inspiration and can be found throughout his works. His artwork also suggests the ways his personal experiences and passions connect to wider social issues of enduring relevance for everyone. - from the Hallie Ford Museum of Art website
One particular piece, “Slaughter of the Innocents”, 2006, caught my eye with its inclusion of 32 vintage ceramic bird sculptures opposite a glaring neon outline of an army tank.
And then I read the caption:
A few years ago, my elementary school in Amsterdam tracked me down and informed me of the upcoming eightieth anniversary of the school. The focus of the anniversary was on how the school and its occupants (children and teachers) had weathered the war years. The school’s website listed the names of the 173 children who had attended our school but had died in concentration camps. Since Jewish children were sent to separate schools beginning in 1941 (and I did not start school until 1944), we did not know that these children had perished. This sculpture is a response to this awful revelation. - Willem Volkersz
I recently learned a new meaning to the word “confluence”. (I only recall hearing this word previously in the context of two streams coming together.) I am currently reading a Stephen King book, “The Outsider”. In it, the story starts to get interesting when the wife of the investigating cop describes the inexplicable nature of events in the story by looking at where there is a confluence of anomalies.
I thought of this word as I walked through this exhibit - seeing the past merge with the present from these unique and colorful vantage points. I found joy, intrigue, and great sadness in seeing this work. Volkersz honored various moments in time with unexpected modern twists. I could see his story unfolding from each piece, merging with my personal stories, struggles, and hopes.
Singular Visions: Self-Taught Artists from the Permanent Collection
Afterward, I moved to the exhibit I came to see, “Singular Visions”, perusing the art about which Burris would be talking, happily seeing a few names I remembered from an earlier era when I owned a small gallery and helped to organize the local monthly artist walk (in which many of these artists showed at the CEI Artworks Gallery, under the direction of Burris), including Patrick Hackelman, Matt Conklin, and Ruth Van Order, among many others.
[This exhibit includes] new acquisitions by contemporary artists working with Living Studios, a Corvallis and Salem studio program for neurodivergent artists….
While the artists in Singular Visions each bring unique approaches and backgrounds to their work, there are universal traits they all share. The work operates as a reflection of the artists’ reality – the way they see the world, generated from both personal life experiences and the community in which they live and work. Artmaking is a form of communication as artists choose to express themselves and share their personal vision to connect with others.
- Jonathan Bucci
The John Olbrantz Curator of Collections and Exhibitions
I finished the evening listening to Burris talk about his art, his work in social services, and his admiration for the art and artists featured in the Singular Visions exhibit. Having worked with Burris in the past, I know him to be a generous and kind person. I was happy to add a new understanding of his history, his unique narrative art style, and his commitment to the people with whom he works to round out my view of this incredible person.
It’s important to remember we all grow up within a certain set of parameters that shape our worldview, at times setting in motion ideas and events that no longer represent who we are. As adults, it’s upon us to be informed, change course where needed, listen to voices outside our circle as well as within, and reflect on what we learn along the way.
I see Volkersz’ work as a personal confluence - where the singular strands of my current thoughts come together, providing me an opportunity to reflect on events from the past as well as those happening today. Like life, it’s messy. It doesn’t always make sense. But it’s important to take the time to learn and grow and speak up, even when it’s difficult to do so. For as much as I’d like to think the human race won’t repeat its mistakes, it often looks like we’re devolving (much like the “Reversalists” believe in “Family of Origin” by C.J. Hauser). But like the children in this evocative little story, they eventually discover everything is more complicated than we know and yet simple in the end. And maybe there is hope somewhere for us after all.
In the meantime, though my voice is small, I sincerely add it to the call for a Ceasefire and a Free Palestine.
Thoughtfully yours,
Jennifer
P.S. odd side note: I also discovered that Volkersz studied art (and architecture) at the University of Washington - my alma mater!