Opus Genesis
- Lisa Heath
- May 27
- 2 min read
Updated: May 31
The billow and ripple of unbounded creativity as it bubbles out and out, expanding beyond, yet still being informed by the dark density that is its context, its conditions and its conditioning.
I see this piece as a creation story that begins with molten rock at the dawn of time and travels with us into the present, as we continue to use material gathered from our challenging experiences to build and shape our versions of reality.
The silver portion of the work was created by crocheting fine silver wire, then accenting it with silver clay (which, upon firing, becomes fine, recycled, silver). It is sealed against tarnishing. I see it as representing the way precious metals are created on earth, in a literal sense, but also in the abstract sense of something intensely beautiful being formed within and from the turmoil of unbounded creative thought.
The textile portion was knitted from dyed waxed cotton on 3mm needles and is affixed to the metal with wax. More on this section of the work below.
The rusty iron was found on Woodside Beach on the Isle of Wight and it weighs a ton! It was quite some effort to heft it up the hill to my car! It has been cleaned and sealed to prevent deterioration. It's size and weight I feel to be fundamental to this art work. It relies on the deep contrast between the heavy, dark, unformed nature of the iron and the delicate perforated bubblings of the knitting, as well as the brightness and preciousness of the silver.
This undulating piece of red knitting began life as a different primordial concept, I saw it as a Taniwha. In New Zealand, where I grew up, it is said that wherever there is a deep red sunset, there is the Taniwha, mystical creature of Maori legend, reminding us of our duty of care to our precious papatuanuku (mother earth); and rewarding us for our efforts. Beware though, should the natural environment be threatened, Taniwha will rise up to admonish those who have put their own wants above the needs of their home.
We ignore her at our peril for the deep sea fault lines, the wind and the waves answer only to her (majesty).
But something wasn't right. Strung up on the canvas, she felt trapped and deadened. Every time I walked past she asked me to set her free. Eventually, I did. She spent a while sloping about the studio until she settled on the heavy iron plank that she has now made her home. She seemed eager to represent something more joyous and free than a slightly foreboding myth. The iron gave her the solid foundation from which she could reinvent herself and be whatever she wanted to be.
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