Joyce Koskenmaki Ten Images Of Nature - The Mystery and Spirit Of the Landscape Joyce has a show at the University of Wisconsin - Superior opening on Wednesday, April 9. She will be giving a talk at 1p.m., and the reception is 7-9p.m. in the Fine Arts Center... the show will be up until April 25. It is all about birch trees. BIRCH TREES Old birch tree thicker than my waist on the shores of Alajarvi lake land of my ancestors early spring, leaves still growing water too cold to step in I scratch the hard gray lichen uncover ancient peelings amazed it is really a birch tree never saw one this big older than great- grandfather. Red barns dry fields spotted cows warm sun cold wind muddy road neighbors I can’t speak with. Invited for coffee I smile and nod catch a word, then another, enough to call it a visit. They never cut the tree down left it on the shoreline like a guardian protector roots deep under the lake. In Michigan where I live far away from Finland I know no old thick birches. New white innocent slender here they dance in the woods smooth white bark, red branches backed by dark green fir trees liking open clearings those close to roads bear scars from snow plows or bark gatherers. I peel bark from the trunk careful not to hurt the tree study the colors uncovered pink, gold, white, thin layers paper to write on or make baskets like my father who plaited strips for vessels no access to big markets making what he needed for holding his trapped rabbits. His father taught him leaving Alajarvi and family with his beloved Ida ending up in Watton far in northern Michigan to log surrounding forests . On US 41 I wonder if these are the new growth birch trees courageously persevering on virgin land he clearcut? My father never cut birches too beautiful maybe he thought or too frail, too slender of no use except as firewood. Here they don’t live long enough to grow into old sages I don’t know why that is why they don’t have deep roots why they stay young and innocent like he did. Now I am an artist painting images of birch trees studying their colors how branches join the treetrunk or break off leaving scars that look like eyes to watch us lichen in green patterns some trees with no tops hollow white bark on the ground soft brown inside. I make painting after painting arrange the trees on canvas dark spaces between them a dance to silent music. They are my friends and sisters. I orchestrate their rhythms step inside to join them match their chords to mine dark for my memories white for my longings. My children don’t know birch trees. One lives in California one in Ohio suburbs I send them birch bark fragments to hold in their own hands letters from our grandfathers to feel the fragile paper note the scars, uncurl the layers create their own lives from us who came before them. copyright Joyce Koskenmaki Hancock, Michigan 2003 All my grandparents came here from Finland 100 years ago. For many people, where their ancestors came from has little to do with who they are now, here in America. But for me, the connection has been a broken link, which I have spent much of my lifetime trying to weld back together. My art work has been a tool for healing and for interpreting the events of my life in visual terms: college, graduate school, time in New York, marriage, children, teaching at six different colleges and universities, always infusing my work with my psychological states. My images changed every time I moved to a different place or through another life-changing event: divorce, death of family, new jobs. I painted images of houses to give myself grounding, animals to create protectors when I needed them, etc. I went to Finland four times, looking for any similarities between my work and that of Finnish artists. I found some things: love for nature, inherent austerity, strong dark/light contrasts, genetic sense of design. I taught for four years at Suomi College/Finlandia University, finding again the feeling of family, the surroundings that comforted me. Now I live where I have always wanted to live: near where I grew up, among the pine trees, birch trees, rocks, swamps, lakes of northern Michigan. I feel like I am home. And for the first time my work has given up its metaphorical dimensions; I am simply drawing and painting what is around me. I love the shapes and colors of the north, the mystery and spirit of the landscape. Walking in the woods, along the shore, next to rivers and waterfalls, I am happy. It is the "old Finn", coming out in my work. My father was a logger and trapper; he said the woods were his church. I have taken up Buddhist practise: I meditate every day, learning to listen to what is both out there and inside of me. There is a quietness in the woods which my father loved. Those forests supported our family. He didn't plow them up to plant hay. He cut down a tree here and there, skinned an animal for its fur, shot a deer for our food. He had to be grateful. Nature has power: its storms, its seasons, the danger of being cold, getting lost, meeting a mother bear. The balance, the sense of our smallness in the face of it, this is what I want to paint. The beauty, the incredible gift of reflections in the water, spray from the waterfalls, the swells of the waves on the big lake, the dark clouds and lightning, the tiny flowers and mushrooms hiding in dark places. Master of Fine Arts in Painting, University of Iowa Thesis: Kuo Hsi, 10c Chinese Landscape Painter Martin Luther Fellowship for Graduate Study Bachelor of Arts, Augustana College, Rock Island, Illinois Majors: Art, Philosophy Magna cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa 1993-present: Curator, National Slide Registry of Finnish-American Artists 1993: Juror, Upper Midwest Regional Exhibition, Neville Museum, Green Bay, WI 1990: Juror, Minnesota Crafts Council Awards REPRESENTED BY: The Pine Tree Gallery, Ironwood, MI. Contact Joyce at 906-483-3183 or joycek@chartermi.net or: 1100 Hill St., Hancock, MI 49930