permission granted.

Mary Mikel Stump
Marcosini's Tally
2012
found object, alkyd enamel, gold leaf, antique
lace, map pins, graphite
20 x 22 x 2 inches


This is a long drawn out tale of things discarded, tallies kept and the sentimental response to both.

I ask for your patience.

I first heard of "Baaaaalzac" in a reference to "dirty books" in this musical number from The Music Man [click here]. I think I was about 8 years old and from that point on, I kept my distance from that ever-so-randy Honore'...until last year when I was given a small book of stories written by none other than Honore' de Balzac. This short novella, The Unknown Masterpiece, is a story that has inspired Cezanne and Picasso alike.

I will say that it inspired me too, but the real treat was the added story, Gambara, which is included alongside TUM in this particular print edition. Gambara is not for the faint of heart. It is a story of obsession, lust, battling one's demons and ultimately failing at all of that.

And so the story goes:
A Milanese nobleman, Count Andrea Marcosini, spies in a crowd the extraordinary face of a woman with fiery eyes. She escapes him, but not before he chases her as far as a sordid alley behind the Palais-Royal where she disappears. If he is "attached to the step of a woman whose costume announced a deep, radical, ancient, inveterate misery, who was no fairer than so many others he saw each night at the Opéra", it was his eye that was literally spellbound. Marcosini investigates and finds that her name is Mariana and that she is married to Gambara, a composer, performer, instrument-maker and expert on music theory. Gambara's genius is his curse, as it is only when he is drunk that he's able to make beautiful music. Mariana works in humble jobs to pay for Gambara's practice, for she strongly believes in her husband's misunderstood genius. Seeing Gambara's support as a means to gain access to his desired Mariana, Marcosini supplies Gambara with money as well as drink to encourage his success. Finally, the count takes the beautiful Mariana from her husband but once conquered, soon abandons her for a dancer. Crushed by her abandonment, Mariana then goes back to her husband, more miserable than ever and so ends the tragic tale.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

It's been over a year since I took a workshop on Assemblage with artist Beverly Mangum. The ever-gracious queen of the Eye of the Dog Art Center led us all to a magical room filled with found objects from which we could select anything we liked. In the corner was a dirt-dobber filled dusty contraption with a broken leather handle that was used for I don't know what, but it seemed to be that its life had been in the realm of counting things. I grabbed it - not sure why - but it just seemed like something I should have: it had all the required elements of wood, old leather and a certain amount of degradation. I didn't use it for that day's workshop, but Beverly let me take it anyway. After a year of living with this wonderful object, I was ready to do something with it. Inspired by the story of Mariana and the way in which she had been added to Marcosini's tally of women desired and conquered, I set out to abstractly illustrate this story by the use of a "count"ing apparatus, numbering, lace and map pins.

So, things are not always as they appear. A work of art that would - from its use of found objects and antique lace - seem sentimental is really a sordid story of lust and conquest. I was reluctant to use materials of this nature because I have often run from the "s" word that so often finds itself attached to my work. However, I learned a valuable lesson with this one - which is the ultimate point of this circuitous post. A cherished friend who is also a highly respected artist told me that when he makes work and has to make decisions about such things, he always goes for the most emotionally impactful punch.

There it was: Permission Granted.

It was a date that I noted in my calendar because it was the date that I moved away from the worry of the sentimental label and fully embraced it. Afterall, if art is a reflection of the one who makes it, then it would stand to reason that everything that comes from my hand will have some sort of lace in it...even it if it's simply implied.