Summer's in full swing and we couldn't be more pleased to introduce our July artists. Caitlyn, an actor/director from the Bay will be facilitating performance workshops, Liz will bring an array of printmaking talents from the front range, Alessandra may be reading her sonnets to us all and Trent will continue in his second month (of six) documenting the North Fork Valley through the lense of his camera. So bring a treat, sit back and dive in!
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Caitlyn is a theater artist originally from the Bay Area in California. As an actress and director, her original work delves into dream states, emotional edges, the expression of mind through movement and voice, and the exploration of self and other. In the Bay Area she co-founded Scatterstate, a theater company with a DIY ethos devoted to the practice of ensemble-devised theater. At Elsewhere she plans to facilitate dream workshops for performers, as well as nurture the seeds of a solo performance investigating the Ophelia archetype. More info on my original theater work: http://thesecretplays.com/theater/
I’m an illustrator and graphic designer living in Denver. I currently work at a small stationery and print design studio, which has opened up the world of letterpress, screen printing, hot foil stamping and embossing. I have come to embrace these tangible processes as they get me away from the computer and challenge me to conceptualize, plan and execute pieces in new and exciting ways.
I hope to use my time at Elsewhere developing unique patterns and designs that can stand distinctly on their own, but be adapted to alternative processes. In doing so, I hope to learn the boundaries and limitations of these mediums while also transcending them.
Scottish Journey, yes. In transit, I move from the Philippines to the United States to the United Kingdom, where my accidental findings of used books chaperone my search for a homeland I build with words. To diminish the distance between my past self and my present surrounding, between there and here I write, and set a sonnet down on paper, and structure a room that cages my migratory flight within 14 lines.
On page 54, I find in this passage by Edwin Muir my own self-portrait:
The houses looked empty, and I could have imagined that they really were if I had not seen now and then a woman or a girl sitting motionless at a window. Behind these transparent barriers [she} looked very near and yet very remote...and I felt that the empty streets on which [she] looked out were just as remote and strange to [her].
I write as a woman or as a girl sitting at a window. I look out onto a street, a city, a country I simultaneously dwell in and depart from. By way of a sonnet I arrive at myself: very remote and yet very near.