For more than 20 years Judith Hoyt has parsed the human figure in metal and mixed media. Beginning with a salvaged scrap of metal, wood, a book, or other material with a history, she fashions solitary or paired figures, often with a surprised or pensive mien, She is a metallist to the extent that fabricated metal forms provide a ghostly surface on which opaque paint is sparingly applied. The scale is intimate, even in the large wall pieces. Tightly clustered on the studio wall their dialogue buzzes with the silent hum of human voices. To share space with them is to hear their cacophony of silence. ganoskin

BeGallery offers this perspective on Hoyt’s work: “Judith Hoyt creates works that are akin to short stories. Materials at different stages of abuse, disintegration and decomposition come into their own again. One can look at them for long periods of time and wonder about the figures and imagery in her work and how the prior uses and lives of the materials have fused with her vision. And yet, the materials have their own history, with Hoyt creating a sophisticated visual environment for the second “telling” of their stories…

Hoyt explains her process: “The figures in my work hold the pain, pleasure and spirit of the human condition. They carry a psychological edge — that thin line between sanity and madness. Each piece evolves through trial and error with the shapes and colors of the materials often guiding the development. I find metal that is in the process of being reclaimed by the earth along the road and in dumps. The metal is discolored, corroded and misshapen by the random process of history. This history gets passed on to the figures. These figures feel primitive but have a relevance to the present.”

More examples of her work are avaible online at tabboo studio.

I am finding myself moving from pure textile/quilt art into multimedia, assemblage and mixed-media art. The textiles often play strongly in the mix, but the ideas that I am finindg in these other fields greatly widen the view. One great article on the introduction of humor and pop art into the craft vocabulary is Celia Ben Mitchell’s article: Heart and Head, The Life and Work of Don Tompkins. The article provides an overview of the career of Tompkins, with an emphasis on the motivations and growth:

“… This first pendant is a tableau, the inscrutable parts of a short story, a fable, a private mythology. A world. In this work, and more fully in the mature series that soon followed, Tompkins crashes the party’ of American Modernist jewelry, bringing eccentric materials and new techniques, social and political satire, the detritus of popular culture, private histories, bawdy good humor, and just plain good fun to the workbench.

… Including the first medal-like pendant, there is a record (likely still incomplete) of 25 commemorative medals. Naturally, some are clearly richer, more cohesive and visually dynamic than others, such as Henry Miller (1968); Patriotic (Fuck Communism) (ca. 1969); Nixon (1969-72); Janis Joplin, Minnesota Fats, Martha Mitchell and Jack Zucker (all 1971 , quite a run); Jackson Pollock (1972); what must be considered his masterwork, Banting and Best (1972); and Iran Karp (1974). These medals possess the visual grace that Tompkins brought to his earlier traditional jewelry, together with biting parody, balls-to-the-wall social commentary, often a full-­blown wit and at turns a tender, personal touch.

Jack Zucker (ca. 1972) is one of the gems and comes out of a terrific story. Zucker, a Philadelphia union organizer, was a friend of Betty Tompkins’s parents. Along with so many intellectuals of the 1950s, lie was called up before Senator Joseph McCarthy’s specious Un-­American Activities Committee and asked to defend himself. He said, “Senator McCarthy, I have more patriotism in my little finger than you have in your whole body.” Tompkins commemorates those words in the work, along with an etched portrait of Zucker, an American Federation of Labor pin, and a kitschy cast charm of a dancing girl, all wonderfully balanced in the grid format. A terrific tribute.”