Finding Beauty in the Darkness
Picture an artist. What do you see? Perhaps you are imagining a recluse, hidden away in a studio to be alone with his work. Perhaps a free spirit, with charcoal covered hands and an abundance of hugs to offer. Try combining those two images, and you might discover a small glimpse of artist Kara Gunter.
Gunter’s friends and family describe her as compassionate and empathetic more than anything else. Her husband Tom Dempster said, “People often say that a person would give the shirt off their back. Kara would give her wardrobe.” She donates to causes as often as she can, from non-profits to simply helping friends, even if she can barely afford it herself. “She would give her last two cents,” said Gunter’s mother, Betty Wise.
Beyond simple financial generosity, Gunter is giving of her time and support. She has helped friend after friend through a tough time and has become a primary caretaker of her father while he undergoes cancer treatment. Of Gunter’s empathy, friend Bohumila Augustinova said, “In her case, it’s almost to a fault.”
Take, for example, the story of RubySue. This fall, while walking with her husband, Gunter came across a dog on the side of the road. Being an animal lover, she could not bear to leave the dog alone, particularly when it approached and began following them. Gunter and her husband walked around with the dog, thinking it might be lost and hoping, if they walked by its home, the dog would return to its owners. “Our first thought was, ‘We have to find your people!’” Dempster said.
But, after a good deal of walking, the dog still would not leave their side, so they took her in. After a visit to the vet, they discovered the beagle had several infections. She also had a microchip. Despite evidence that animal came from a bad home, Gunter and Dempster contacted the owners registered on the microchip. However, they never received a call back. So, the couple invested in the beagle’s recuperation and named her RubySue. She repays them by being a loving companion and happy greeter to their home.
Though she loves dogs for their companionship and zen energy, calling them “little Buddhas,” Gunter was a little hesitant to adopt RubySue. After the difficult loss of her previous dog, MayBelle, Gunter did not plan to own another pet.
A year after graduating college, Gunter decided to get a dog, which she named MayBelle. She wanted the dog, she said, “For all the wrong reasons, to be honest. I just wanted a cute animal around me.” But looking back, she realized it might have been for something more important.
At the time, she was facing health issues and depression. “I think I unconsciously wanted a distraction from all of that,” she said. Though Gunter says her parents tried to talk her out of getting MayBelle at first, her mother now sees what a great decision it was. “It helped her because she was concentrating more on the pup instead of herself,” said Wise.
“She was one of the things that turned me around, and saved my life, in a way,” Gunter said.
Experiences like the depression she faced with MayBelle, ongoing health issues and her father’s current illness tend to motivate her artwork. About trends in her entire body of work, Gunter said, “The unifying concept is usually me.”
“I am a strong believer that the unconscious needs to flow into the artwork,” she said. Her experiences and emotions help her conceptualize her work, and she has difficulty exploring and creating if she does not connect to a piece emotionally. Consequently, with themes like depression and mortality, many of her pieces are dark to the outside viewer. “I have seen if she goes through some struggles, her work gets darker,” Augustinova said.
“Death is scary. The mortality of the body. Mental illness. Anxiety. I think people want to just pretend those things don’t exist,” said Gunter. Her art gives her the chance to process. Though she says she sees life through a dark filter, it’s not necessarily a negative one. Gunter said, “I think it’s just an embracing of all that life has to offer. And I think a lot of people want to ignore a large part of life.”
Gunter’s husband also says that the darkness that can be interpreted in her art is not cynicism or anything macabre. “There’s a certain kind of questioning of person, of place, of identity […] I think this idea of dark can be misconstrued,” Dempster said.
“I think there is a great deal of every level of her being that goes into the work, but am not sure that always come through to the viewer,” said Jeffrey Day, arts writer and curator for three of Gunter’s ArtistaVista exhibitions, in an email interview.
Despite potential misconceptions, Gunter is trying to release the need to explain herself to people. This recent resolve is timely, since her work has developed to be more relatable to many viewers. Day went on to say of Gunter’s most recent work, “I believe that gap between what Kara is creating and what an (attentive, awake and aware) audience is getting is narrowing.”
Gunter’s mother, for example, has become more understanding of her daughter’s work. The emotional motivation for the pieces always becomes clear to Wise after speaking to her daughter, but “a lot of her art is kind of over my head, especially if I’m just viewing it and trying to figure out what it means,” she said. Often, this meant that she felt darkness in the pieces, though “her art has kind of evolved and is a lot less dark than it used to be,” Wise said.
Augustinova believes that Gunter’s work reflects aspects of her personality that not everyone gets to know, like her being a “bright, colorful person,” Augustina said. She appreciates that Gunter’s art is vibrant, different and memorable. “I like that she doesn’t just do pretty. Although a lot of her art is, I don’t think that’s her intent,” she said.
Augustinova who has been a friend of Gunter’s since they worked together at the Columbia Museum of Art shortly after Gunter’s graduation, is also acting as manager of the Anastasia and Friends Gallery, where Gunter exhibited her most recent body of work.
The collection, titled Creatural, which Gunter said is about morality, the human body and how humanity has taken itself out of nature, is an example of one of the more colorful bodies of work Gunter has created. It is also one of the more broad, conceptually.
“I mean houses, and things, when you start thinking about it, are just kind of weird. Especially when you look at the rest of the natural world, and animals, and how they live, and how we evolved, and it’s so strange that we’ve tried to pick ourselves up and take ourselves out of nature and put ourselves into these boxes,” Gunter said.
In this case and in many other aspects of Gunter’s life, it comes down to relationships. Whether the relationship between man and nature or Gunter’s personal relationships, authenticity and connectivity are imperative and influential to her processes and to her character.
Gunter said, “We’re all people. We all have good days. We all have shitty days. We all have whatever. Let’s just relate to each other in a very human way.”
THE PERFECT MIX: A REVIEW OF AMALO CAFÉ
Chocolate and pretzels. The Brady Bunch. Burt and Ernie. Contrast coming together in perfect harmony: that is the best way to describe Amalo.
The small café declares itself as a gelato shop, but also serves a variety of coffees and pastries, including croissants and crepes. The atmosphere is incredibly warm and inviting. Even on a cold, overcast day, the large sliding door to the shop is open, calling in passersby. The variety of textures, accents of warm pinks and whites and warm lighting keep the cold outside. Amalo’s interior features exposed brick, wood and stone, creating a vintage feeling to the décor, while the menu, counter and typography add hints of modernity. A mix of American music, Italian music and American music performed in Italian engages the ears. Some visitors stay and enjoy their purchases on the wooden bench or one of a few tables offered for seating, while others take their treats to go. Many who stay often take advantage of the free WiFi, though plenty of others add laughter and conversation to Amalo’s ambiance. But Amalo is much more than its comfortable atmosphere, as it a variety of gelato and sorbet, both of which are made in-house. The gelato is thick and creamy and available for purchase in three different sizes of cup or cone. Gelato can also be served on a warmed waffle, without or without toppings. A decorated chalkboard suggests a weekly “gelato della settimana,” if you need help picking from the many flavors. Croissants come plain or with cream, chocolate or Nutella and can be served warm upon request. Adding to the variety of edible options are Amalo’s crepes, which have the same filling options as the croissants. All of these tasty treats can be served with a variety of coffee drinks, including cappuccino and americano. Whatever drink and food combination you choose, it is sure to be an enjoyable one at Amalo.
–This restaurant review was published in the Florence University of the Arts February 2015 Blending publication, which can be found in its online format here. (Article on page 3)
CITY CENTER AUTHENTIC: LE MOSSACCE
Walking around central Florence, almost every restaurant and cafe boasts an authentic Italian experience, in an attempt to draw in tourists in any way possible.
So how, then, do you find a truly authentic experience? One trattoriaproviding an genuine experience, even in the city center bustling with tourists, is Le Mossacce.
After entering the restaurant, its true Italian nature is apparent in its small size and intimate atmostphere, which could not be conducive to large groups of tourists. First course dishes like ravioli, lasagne and tagliatelle offer recognizable options to patrons, but may be served in a less recognizable way. The lasagne, for example, is not prepared in the American-Italian casserole style a customer might expect, but instead includes pasta covered in a creamy tomato sauce.
Second course offerings include a wide variety of dishes, from universal ones like roasted chicken, to more traditional meals like trippa alla fiorentina, a boiled cow’s stomach very popular with locals. Another unique dish is the involtini. A dish that can be dated back to ancient Rome, the involtini is veal cutlets rolled and stuffed with vegetables and cheese. Le Mossacce’s version includes artichoke and, though it is a dish popular across Italy, Le Mossacce serves their with the Tuscan spin: creamy tomato sauce.
In addition to the first and second courses, a variety of sides and vegetables are offered, including white beans and roasted vegetables. To pair with your meal, Le Mossacce’s Chianti is served as the table wine. The DOCG wine is unassuming enough to pair well with almost any dish, but still provides good flavor and body. Coffees and a few desserts such as milllefoglie are available to end the meal on a sweet note.
-This restaurant review was published in the Florence University of the Arts May 2015 Blending publication, which can be found in its online format here. (Article on page 6)
BOOK BOUND
Florence is a town that has certainly not forgotten its Roman roots. From its layout to its language and architecture, nods to Ancient Rome still fill Florence today. Though it is easily seen in many architecture and design elements, Rome’s influence can best be heard when walking through the streets and listening in on conversations, since so many languages, Italian included, are derived from Latin.
One such derivative is the word “volume,” which developed from the Latin word “to roll.” Originally referring to a scroll that contained text, “volume” later developed an additional meaning to help define how much was included in a body of text, eventually giving rise to the geometric definition we have today.
As Ancient Roman influence lives on through Latin derivatives like “volume,” those volumes too help carry on a piece of history – the Florentine bookmaking and consequential book preservation tradition. Centuries ago, the scrolls to which “volume” originally referred transitioned from one long piece of paper to many smaller ones, bound at the edges. Since then, the processes involved have been mechanized to produce books as we know them today. Hand-bound books, however, can still be found, studied and made.
Florence is rich with bookmaking supplies – ubiquitous leather, fiber for unique threads and beautiful handmade papers. Workshops like Il Torchio still hand-bind books and journals, even producing custom orders. Current own Erin Ciulla will even teach workshops to interested groups, spreading the tradition even further.
Florence also keeps its history alive in book restoration. In 1966, the flood of the Arno damaged innumerable books, pieces of art and historical artifacts. At the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze alone, over 1.3 million articles were damaged. This in addition to damage in dozens of other libraries, shops and museums devastated Florence’s historical collection. This brought rise to extensive restoration and preservation methods. Among others, the Central Institute of Restoration and Institute of Book Pathology contributed to the effort, and through work in Florence, practices like phased conservation and mass de-acidification were born.
It was lucky, then, that Florence’s bookbinding tradition had not been forgotten, as many of those artisans and binders were called upon to contribute to the preservation effort. The work that was required to restore and preserve all of those articles and the fact that there were people available to help who were skilled in those techniques both help verify the importance of history in Florence. From Ancient Rome to the Renaissance, Florence recognizes, appreciates and perpetuates the significance of its past.
-This article was published in the Florence University of the Arts Spring-Summer 2015 Blending Magazine, entitled Volume, which can be found in its online format here. (Article on viewer page 44, publication page 42)
SCANDICCI: A FLORENTINE WONDERLAND
If when going to school in central Firenze I am Alice studying along the riverbank, then Scandicci is my Wonderland. Riding on the Tramvia, I am falling down the rabbit hole, intrigued by all the curiosities I pass. Exiting the tram, wind whips my hair and face as I accelerate in my final descent. Standing on the platform, I am faced with my hallway of locked doors: dozens of directions to take and roads to follow, but no knowledge of which is the right one. Finally, I am drawn to the mask sculpture on the corner.
I stand behind the mask for a momentary respite from the wind, and wonder what character this face is to my Alice. I wonder if he is my caterpillar, coaxing me to think introspectively and choose a direction. As I decide which road to take, I step out from behind the sculpture and plant my feet in front of it, so we are face to face. It is shocking to stand in front of a face of such great size, to be at eye level with a mouth and have to crane my neck all the way back for my gaze to reach his forehead. And suddenly I am Alice again, having eaten some of the caterpillar’s mushroom and shrunken to a diminutive size.
As I walk away from the mask, I am again in proportion with my surroundings, but still feel small. I feel like a child, filled with wonder at this place, which is unlike any other I have been. Though it is considered a suburb of Florence, Scandicci is nothing like the cookie-cutter streets I think of when referring to a suburb in America. And it is nothing like the traditional architecture I have grown accustomed to in Florence. I see colorful apartment buildings, modern homes, and porches decorated in a style you might see in the American Southwest.
I am further infantilized as I stumble across a park. Camera in hand, I explore the area, attracted to the natural environment and its relationship with the man-made play structures that sit upon it. Even this playground is different that anything I am used to. It is covered in graffiti, which I have been trained to see as a mark of an unsafe area, but it feels just as or even more welcoming than a pristine park. Though I still felt wonder as I continued to explore, something about this place began to feel like home.
In Scandicci, I was transported into a fantasy world. In the trees, which squeaked as the wind pulled them against their supports, I found Alice’s singing garden. In Castello dell’Acciaiolo, I found the Queen of Hearts’ croquet grounds. All around me, I was surrounded by variety and surprises. Scandicci was a new place, one full of fascination. As the wind swirled around me, so did my thoughts. I wondered what other surprises my I might find in the outskirts of Florence. Though it was cold, the wind felt like Scandicci embracing me, welcoming me to come back.
-This creative nonfiction piece and two accompanying photographs were published in the Florence University of the Arts April 2015 Blending publication, which can be found in its online format here. (Article on page 15)