Reflections: Diary of a Bloom N Art novice

Article from the Harvard Press by Carlene Phillips

PART 1 - Published March 10, 2023

Shlawna Sikochi’s floral arrangement mimics digital photography light paintings by several Bromfield photographers as seen in last year’s Bloom N Art show.

Feb. 25: I have just done something I may deeply regret. I have said “yes” to something I have said “no” to for six years, with good reason. But I got carried away by a group of people saying, “You can do it. It’s fun. Everyone loves it.” And then, what probably gave me the final push, MM saying, “I’ll help you at every step.”

So here I am. I’ve just pushed the “submit” button, signing myself up to be an arranger for the Garden Club of Harvard’s seventh annual Bloom N Art show at Fivesparks March 25 and 26. It’s a month away, but I’m already in a panic. I have never really made a flower “arrangement”—just stuffed flowers in a vase and fluffed them a bit—let alone one that interprets a piece of art, to say nothing of the fact that a lot of people will see it on display, along with all the others by experienced, talented, amazing members of the Garden Club. I can feel my mortification already.

Feb. 27: MM sends me a homework assignment. She gives me a link to a video of an Art in Bloom show and instructs me to write down some of my reactions to the floral designs. I watch for 30 minutes or so, replaying the video. The arrangements are beautiful and incredibly clever at reflecting some aspect of the accompanying artwork. Sometimes the colors of the flowers pick up those in a painting, or the plant material mirrors the shape of a ceramic object, or a unique container plays a role in the arrangement’s interpretation. I am so impressed by how creative these people have been. And then it hits me. I can’t possibly do what these arrangers have done. I can’t look at a piece of art by a Bromfield student and have a flash of genius about what flowers I can use in what kind of container to reflect some aspect of the artwork. MM says yes I can.

March 1: Now that it’s March, I’m really nervous—and I guess excited—because any day now I will receive an email from club member Deb Dowson with images of all the student artwork. Chairs of the event, this year as for the past four, are Marijke Vallaeys and AnaMaria Nanra. They have been working with the three Bromfield art teachers who choose work for the show, Elizabeth Hoorneman, Cynthia Fontaine, and Katharine Pierron. I am to list my top choices, one through five. Then Dowson will do what she has been doing since the club’s first Bloom N Art show—she will match every arranger with a work that was one of their five choices.

March 3: The email with the artwork arrives. There are 31 choices, some single images and some a group of three or four images together. They represent a range of media and are amazingly creative, colorful, complex, and diverse—and I can’t imagine doing an arrangement for any of them. I work myself into a tizzy, wondering how I can get out of this. Then I settle down.

I eliminate the Photoshop collages; they’re fascinating but too complex for me. There are a few identity masks in plaster and acrylic paint, showing the artist’s outer and inner selves. Fascinating, but I’m going to have trouble enough with one arrangement, so I cross those off, along with some digital photography groupings. I finally pick two works that seem remotely doable and then one more that I can see myself attempting, though I have no idea how. I need two more; they all seem to me impossible to interpret in flowers, though I know many arrangers will be delighted to take on the challenge. I make my number four and five choices, hoping it doesn’t come down to them. Now I just have to wait for Dowson, “the matchmaker,” to tell me which of my choices has been assigned to me. Then there’s no way out of this.

To be continued …

PART 2 - Published March 17, 2023

“Homage to an Artist—Kusama” by Bromfield freshman Sophia Marder.

March 7: There’s an email from Deb Dowson with the final matches between Bromfield students’ artwork and Garden Club arrangers for the Bloom N Art show at Fivesparks March 25 and 26. I take a deep breath and scroll down through the pictures. I don’t have to go far to find my first choice. All in red and white, it’s the head and shoulders of a woman, her white face framed by bobbed red hair with bangs. I am excited when I see my name beside the image. Having been hopeful, for the past few days I have been rearranging red and white carnations in my head.

Looking more closely, I see that the face looks angry and a bit wild. The image is called “Homage to Kusama,” and now I see that the name is written everywhere—in the hair, across the chest, and broken up into letters in the space around the face. I get an email from MM, who knows who the real Kusama is and sends me a YouTube video. Yoyoi Kusama is a famous contemporary artist, who is sometimes called the “Polka Dot Princess” for her obsession with dots in her work. Now 93, she came to America from Japan on her own at the age of 28 and established herself in New York. She is an outspoken feminist who has been voluntarily living in a psychiatric hospital since the 1970s. Fascinating, but none of this helps with my floral arrangement.

“Homage to an Artist—Kusama” by Bromfield freshman Sophia Marder.

March 10: There is a workshop at Fivesparks where we get to see the actual artwork we will be working with. Arrangers are milling around, asking each other what piece is “theirs,” and it’s impressive to listen to the ideas they are offering one another. It turns out there are six other women who have never done this before, and it’s easy to spot us. We’re the ones with the deer-in-the-headlights look, while all the others are chatting excitedly. People are being helpful to us newbies, telling us to just have fun, anything will work—“They’re flowers, they’re beautiful.” In a slide show, Deb Dowson critiques some examples of paired art and flowers and talks about different approaches we can take and gives us some tips. She assures us that we “can’t go wrong.” Why don’t I believe that?

March 11: Over and over I have been hearing Dowson’s words, “The container can kickstart everything.” I have to find one so I can do a practice arrangement. I have been envisioning a shallow, red, rectangular container. Three different people have offered me red vases, but they won’t work for what I have in mind. Experienced arrangers have encouraged us to interpret freely, to think outside the box. Unfortunately, I have been envisioning a rather literal interpretation of “Kusama”; I’m trapped inside the box.

I set out for TJ Maxx to find the perfect red container. I wander over to a likely-looking department. A thorough search shows there’s not much in the way of vases, let alone the elusive one of my vision. I go up and down aisles of dishes. I spend time debating whether a white baking dish of some sort would work but decide they’re too large and heavy. I’m trying not to panic. But I have to get something. After much stewing, I decide on a narrow, black baking pan, thinking I can put white polka dot stickers on it. I hurry to checkout before I can second-guess myself and hand it to the cashier. “Oh, a meatloaf I see.” Little does she know.

Also from the start I have been thinking of rows of red carnations, with some smaller white ones to look like polka dots. Bloom N Art has a grant from the Harvard Cultural Council, and we each get $30 to spend on flowers. I’m excited to experiment, so I head to Idylwilde to choose some flowers. There are no red carnations, only mini carnations in salmon and shades of pink. I’m disheartened, to say the least. I had such high hopes, and all I have to show for my efforts is a meatloaf pan.

March 12: The pan is sitting on the counter mocking me—it’s not as though, if I can’t arrange flowers in it, I’ll make a meatloaf. MM picks me up to go to an Art In Bloom show at the Needham library. The building is huge, and there are amazing arrangements spread throughout. We have fun admiring the beauty and creativity of the arrangements. It was really nice of MM to take me, but I am now inspired to the point of paralysis.

March 13: Full of renewed hope and determination, I head for Trader Joe’s because many people have said what great flowers they have. And they do—just not the ones I need. I’m starting to revise my vision, searching now for red flowers of absolutely any kind. I circle back to Idylwilde, thinking Monday might be a good day. And I circle back out—the parking lots are jammed solid with storm-worried shoppers.

My remaining hope is that some arrangers going in to the Flower Market in Chelsea two days before the show will bring me back some red carnations and I can make my idea work. Meanwhile, I’m just waiting for the nightmare where Yoyoi is chasing me down the street, throwing polka dots at me, and plum, pink, orange, and fuchsia carnations surround me with mocking laughter.

PART 3 - Published March 31, 2023

Sophia and Carlene meet at the Bloom N Art exhibit at Fivesparks.

March 23: Bloom N Art, the collaboration between Bromfield School and the Garden Club, opens at Fivesparks in two days. Yikes!

Today I have joined a small group going in to the flower market in Chelsea to buy flowers for their arrangements. I am focused on red carnations. In the past week I received several emails from arranger friends telling me places where there were NO red geraniums. So this has to be it. We arrive at the warehouse building and I am overwhelmed by the vast array of flowers inside. Like a laser beam, my eyes scan the colors. I see a spot of bright red across the room, and I make a beeline. And, yes, it’s the beautiful red carnations of my vision! But, compulsively, I go around to other venders, making sure those are the very best red carnations available. It turns out they are the only ones. I grab them and some other flowers, including the white polka dots.

That evening I decorate my container—I’ve ditched the meat loaf pan in favor of a less culinary container someone loaned me. I found some red and white letters at Staples, and I stick “Kusama” across the tin. And I watch in dismay as two fall off. An emergency text brings a family member wielding a glue gun. I’ve emailed MM and she assures me my flowers will not die overnight.

March 24: MM was right. The red carnations, alstroemeria, and huge white chrysanthemums are fresh and stunning. I sit staring at them, imagining them becoming the portrait of Yayoi Kusama, the famous artist who is the subject of my chosen student artwork. Arrangements are due by noon. We may bring in completed pieces or work during the morning at tables set up in Fivesparks. I choose the latter because I need MM’s help. I rush around trying to find something safe in which to transport my flowers. I grab a cooking pot and empty a pail of its mop and bottles.

I see women coming into the building with fabulous arrangements, and my confidence deflates. Some other newbies are here, but they’re all busily working. I stare at my container and my flowers, and I am immobilized. Fortunately, MM appears and offers me a suggestion: “Start with the face.” I see why experienced arrangers say not to get attached to one idea before you see what flowers you have to work with, because, ironically, it is alstroemeria, not red carnations, that get the crucial role as Kusama’s hair. As I work away, I see my vision emerge—only a bit distorted by reality. People walk by and offer encouraging words. I suddenly realize the worry is gone and I’m having fun.

I could go on tweaking—I could also make it all fall apart—so I’m glad when the time is up. I’m about the only person left besides the co-chairs of the Bloom N Art event, AnaMaria Nanra and Marijke Vallaeys, who will have the challenge of figuring out which arrangements will go where in the building. I take a quick walk around and am astounded by the gorgeous creations. I think back to when I was choosing my artwork, and I find it so interesting to see how other people have beautifully and cleverly captured all the pictures I thought would be impossible.

March 25: The show opens at 10 a.m. I can’t shake the niggling fear that letters in my arrangement will have come unstuck or, worse, that flowers will have fallen over. I am relieved when my daughter and son-in-law send me a picture from the exhibit and I see Kusama is intact, looking good against a black background.

March 26: I am at the desk at Fivesparks as a greeter, and I am hoping “my” student artist, Sofi, might come today and I will have a chance to meet her. From the beginning I have admired her portrait and been curious as to why she chose Yayoi Kusama as her subject. I am so hoping she won’t be disappointed with what I’ve done. There are people coming and going, and I’m overhearing comments about how amazing everything is. A friend appears.”Your artist is here,” she tells me. I am excited to meet Sofi and her family. She tells me she lived in Tokyo until five years ago and that she has long admired Kusama’s art. She describes the complicated process by which she used photoshop and other tools to make her portrait. She compliments my arrangement, pointing out what she thinks mirrors parts of her work. I am so happy Sofi likes what I did. And I realize—for the first time, really—that I like what I did too.

I’m glad I took up the challenge. As I stumbled through the process, MM, other fellow arrangers, and friends were wonderfully supportive; I always knew people would be there to help me. Now my only regret is a useless meat loaf pan.

Find a complete gallery of pictures from the show, taken by Patrick Vallaeys, at bloomnart.online