GALLERY OF FUNCTIONAL ART: Joan Robey

I have been exhibiting my sculpture made from recycled materials at the Gallery Of Functional Art for the past decade. While planning my 2000 event I came across a particularly fascinating book on this very topic. I was impressed by the story of a primitive island tribe who years ago discovered that their island was being used as a site for the dumping of industrial waste from this country. Not aware that there were inhabitants on this little known island, the U.S. sent a flotilla of eco-barges loaded with materials that was scheduled to be recycled "overseas". The materials never made it further than the island of Yebor.

YeborÕs then unknown inhabitants, the Naoj, had suffered through a fearsome wildfire that had destroyed the houses and possessions of many of the islanders. The Naoj were a very private people who historically enjoyed the isolation of their island cove.

A week long festivals of dance and trance intended to encouraged the "gatherers" to explore the island for new resources led to the discovery of dumped materials. Sadly, the journey cost the life of one of the elders who was the looser in a fight with the sacred, copper-feathered noci flibye (see tablet). But the rewards outweighed the sacrifice. To the Naoj, their discovery was not the trash but a gift sent by roi, the good of good returns, and they named the"sacred" dumping ground, pmuddray.

The Naoj set about replacing losses from the fire by using the newfound materials to create artifacts, sacred icons and body adornments. Their recycling of "useless" materials to make tribal object was so compelling I immediately arranged to visit Yebor Island.

It was no easy task travelling to the island (see map) but once there I was completely at home with my like-minded friends. I participated in their sacred ceremonies, learned their music (see instruments) and under the influence of their (thoroughly intoxicating!) drink made from the poisonous noci loco fish (see fish tank), I had a hallucinatory contact with their spirit guide, the "noci hutu".(see totem but avoid drink).

For six month I lived amongst the Naoj and studies their ways. I built a "work station" (see the work station) as a place for me to write my diaries and keep journals of YeborÕs most notable characters. A film deal is now in progress (see my agent). As my departure drew near, I bartered for as many artifacts as I could bring back with me. In exchange for this "collection" I offered the Naoj "story by" credit on the film project. The elders wisely reasoned that the filmÕs profits would finance a "native artifact" facility on the island, bringing more opportunity to expand their sacred dump.

Initially, I agree not to sell these early pieces, but the film deal is moving slower that I anticipated and, in any case, 50% of the sales go directly to the Naoj. Oh yes! One more piece of information has recently been uncovered and revealed (by scholars of lost tribes, not myself), Naoj spelled backwards is "Joan" and Yebor backwards is "Robey". I guess in some mystical way I had been led to discover that the true nature of my experience with the Naoj, and perhaps with all other people is "It's all about ME!"

Click on the thumbnails to get a full size picture

A provocative piece of junk speaks loudly to me. While I'm interested in the history and storyline of an object, it's really the element itself - its form, texture and color - that I respond to. I want to save these things from extinction - to give them new life; reincarnate them into a new context. I like the power. I love the alchemy. Putting one element next to another causes spontaneous dialogue to happen. Two totally disparate objects begin to weave a common thread....poetry, of a sort. Japanese forms and gesture are of particular interest. There's a Japanese attitude called "wabi sabi." It refers to the illusion of permanence and how beauty exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked. It accepts the natural order of things.

I'm building something - there's a musical quality, like jazz. There's the rhythm and then the spaces; movement is implied; patterns, repetition and texture have some sort of primitive quality. The placement of elements is intuitive. I begin moving through the studio with great speed, almost as if I'm trying to keep up with the objects that are themselves doing the directing.

I prefer 'reference' to narration and like to disassemble my raw materials so that their history is not necessarily knowable by simply "seeing" them. I want the story to come through the overall composition and not get too hung up on what individual ingredients are there.

While I am drawn to a formality of line and structure, I am never really satisfied until I've thrown something into the mix that makes me laugh. Irony saves the day - in life as in my art.