Collage 747 -- Konetz!

The End!

I'm going to take a leap here and try apply Tolstoy's thoughts to our project.

The Epilogue is all about his ideas about history, and  whether or not the individual has control. The individual vs. the collective. The last few paragraphs he talks about the laws of astronomy, and how people perceive the immobility of the earth and planets. Which was proven to be incorrect centuries ago. What is true about this project? Individual effort, or something else?

Something -- that is very hard to identify -- drove this project. We worked together, side-by-side, for over 2 years. A real labor of love. We each made our individual contributions, and yet there were larger forces at play. I have often thought of this project in anthropomorphic terms -- it indeed has had a life of it's own. Even though I started the project and have seen it through to it's conclusion -- the Moscow International Book Fair June 8-12, then onto Yasnaya Polyana, the epicenter of everything Tolstoy -- it is still a mystery in a way.

Even though we finished making the collages in February, it has been a pleasure to continue to blog each day. I feel so close to this project; it is hard to say "goodbye". I have learned so much in so many ways. About commitment, about creativity, but mostly about friendship.

This last collage is based on a birthday card that Team Tolstoy made for me last year when I turned 50 on May 28. It seemed like a fitting end, to include the work of all of us on the final piece.

Hats off, Team Tolstoy! What an incredible journey it's been.
My love to you all, always. -- Lola


Lola Baltzell
from page 751-752, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1214-1215

Collage 746

For months now I've been mulling over what would be a fitting final post for the War and Peace Project blog. The imminent departure of Lola and others for Yasnaya Polyana- where the full-scale exhibit will open in just a few days- is a prompt to get on with it!

Five contributors had a hand in this collage, which started out as a birthday greeting to Lola. Not one of our drop-dead best, but it has it all: five pairs of hands, using materials that spanned the project-old children's book imagery featured early on overlaid with weathered advertisements ripped from neighborhood lampposts which creeped in much later. The project really did get more "punk," as our New School reviewer dubbed it. Loved that.

But the important thing to express is what a GIFT this project has been. Lola set a gift in motion that has remained in motion, and so retained its gift spirit. I received it as a gift and others have too. For that I say thanks- first to Lola and to you all.

Lynn Waskelis
from page 749-750, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 121-1214

Collage 745

Here is the binding from the text, used on our last day in the studio. Chris Chou, a wonderful artist (and a former contributer), popped in to say hello to the group. I held up this piece and asked for her input.
"Keep working!" she replied.

There you go... - Adrienne


Adrienne Wetmore
from page 747-748, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1211-1212

Collage 744

Lucy Arrington
from page 745-746, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Voloknonsky translation page 1209-1210

Collage 743

Emma Rhodes
from page 743-744, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1208-1209

Collage 742

Otto Mayr
from page 741-742 of original text
collage, acrylic paint
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1206-1207

Collage 741

WAR 

I live in a city destroyed by war just fourteen years before I was born. I can still find damage left by bullets and bombs fired during that final siege in 1945. My father grew up in Nazi Germany and can tell stories of seeing the huge fleets of Allied bombers flying high overhead to targets in other parts of Germany, or seeking shelter when that target was the Ruhr mining town where his family lived. His war was uneventful compared to that of my wife's father, who was 15 when he and his family fled their home in Danzig in March 1945. They were among the last German civilians to get out of the city before it was taken by the Soviet Army. 

Yet despite such direct and close links to the biggest war in history, the idea of war seems to me unreal and remote. I have had the great fortune of living in a period of relative peace. The Cold War posed a theoretical threat of complete annihilation but did not interfere with our prosperity and safety as long as no one pushed the button. Our wars -- Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan -- seem small compared to the Great Wars and hardly touch us. 

Tolstoy was born sixteen years after Borodino and the burning of Moscow. Like us, he lived in a period of relative peace, dying just a few years before the outbreak of World War One. The wars that Russia engaged in during his lifetime were regional affairs beyond the vast country's borders, far from home and not directly threatening to home and family. Living in peacetime makes it is easy to forget how common War has been to the human experience. -- Otto

Otto Mayr
from page 739-740, volume 2 of original text
made 2/1/12
collage
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1205-1206

Collage 740

Lola Baltzell
from page 737-738, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1203-1205

Collage 739

How I wished I loved in my heart the art I could love in my mind. Big, bold, epic, symphonic. But I love the small, the miniature, the detailed, the complex: the tiny boundaried world that has its sources in handiwork. Handiwork, crisply bordered or patched with cut geometrical shapes and defined by stitching, was what I watched my maternal grandmother do- in the quilts for our beds, the quilt for my doll, the embroidered and crocheted runners on the buffet, the corners of the tablecloths, and the handkerchiefs that primly blinked from her pocketbook.

from "The Paper Garden," by Molly Peacock. pages 18-19

No denying there's been an element of a quilting bee to the War and Peace Project. Albeit long-distance and slow-motion...Would we ever dare "stitch" the collages together for display?

...and an element of the epic- 447 collages? Every page of War and Peace? Really?

Lynn Waskelis
from page 735-736, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1202-1203

Collage 738

Lucy Arrington
from page 733-734, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1200-1202

Collage 737

Adrienne Wetmore
from page 731-732, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1198-1200

Collage 736

Emma Rhodes
from page 729-730, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1197-1198

Collage 735

A friend has got me reading Molly Peacock's "The Paper Garden," the true story of Mary Delany- the original mixed-media collagist, and our sister. In 1772 Mary Delany began making collages at the age of 72. A span of 240 years between these images.

Lynn Waskelis

from page 727-728, volume 2 of original text
collage, oil crayon, graphite
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1195-1197

Collage 734

Adrienne Wetmore
from page 725-726, volume 2 of original text
collage, fabric, ink
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Voloskohsky translation page 1194-1195

Collage 733

Here is selvage from the dress my mother made to wear at my wedding. That was 1988. She, the fabric and I are all still here to see it put to use, a surprising one, but a USE. She saves those scraps for a reason. My grandmother taught us both well.

Lynn Waskelis
from page 723-724, volume 2 of original text
collage, fabric, graphite, ink
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1192-1194

Collage 732

Emma Rhodes
from page 721-722, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/3/12
Pevear/Volokhonksky translation page 1191-1192

Collage 731

On this page of the Epilogue we have Tolstoy philosophizing about what causes history. Is it the will of great kings and queens? Or is it the popular will of the masses that makes history happen? Is it divine or is it spontaneous uprising? Is it predetermined or is it chance? 

For quite some time I was collecting scrap pieces of paper and mementos, like cards from our recent NYC exhibit trip, and thinking, thinking, thinking how could I express my emotions about such a heavy page of Tolstoy? 

Here Tolstoy writes in circles about changing historical landscapes.. so I started thinking about nature, colors, swirling, and... then it hit me... GUM WRAPPERS! 

I would like to thank my artsy daughter, Natalie Carney Johnson, for this  perfectly inspired collage. She and her friends in Atlanta make elaborate collages themselves with the gum wrapper foil from Wrigley's 5 Gum. Each flavor has its own foil color -- and coincidentally, they all have stunning landscape hues -- blues, greens, golds, blacks. The foil simply peels right off the wax paper and even leaves a sticky residue so no glue needed -- perfect for collage!  I gave Natalie the page of Tolstoy’s text, and in 2 hours she gave me her vision of history rolling through time…all in gum wrappers.

Thank you Natalie Carney Johnson!

Thank you Wrigley's! And thank you Tolstoy!!  -- Christiane 

Natalie Carney Johnson

from page 719-720, volume 2 of original text

collage made 3/10/12

Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 2012-2013

Collage 730

"Belief has been destroyed, and therefore it is necessary to explain the meaning of power... if the source of power lies neither in the physical nor in the moral qualities of the person who possesses it, then it is obvious that the source of this power lies outside this person... power is the sum total of the wills of the masses, transferred by express or tacit agreement to rules chosen by the masses." -- Leo Tolstoy

Trish Crapo
from page 717-718, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 2/24/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1188-1189

Collage 729

"... the wheels did not furnish the cause..."

This collage can be like "Where's Waldo?". Can you find the all the wheels? -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 715-716, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 1/20/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1186-1187

Collage 728

Epilogue, Part Two, Chapter III.

"A locomotive is moving. Someone asks, why does it move? A muzhik says: the devil moves it. Another man says the locomotive moves because its wheels turn. A third asserts that the cause of the movement is the smoke blown away by the wind."

I used the cover of a Portuguese history book and an abstract image of a train locomotive (center, bottom). And a character inside a train car who looks a little like Sherlock Holmes -- let's say he is pondering the meaning of history! -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 713-714, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 1/20/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1184-1186

Collage 727

Tolstoy continues his rant about history.

"... modern history is like a deaf man, answering questions that no one has asked him."

Lola Baltzell
from page 709-710, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 1/13/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1181-1183

Collage 726

In the examination of history:

To find the component forces equal to a composite or a resultant, it is necessary that the sum of the components equal the composite.

I love how the  colors connect us in the studio, each week creating a unique sum body of work. - Adrienne


Adrienne Wetmore
from page 709-710, volume 2 of original text
collage, fabric, twine
made 1/13/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation
page 1182-1183

Collage 725

Tolstoy uses dreams quite a bit to get into the minds of his characters. Here is one of Nikolenka's dreams:

'"Father," he thought. "Father" (though there were two portraits of a good likeness in the house, Nikolenka never pictured Prince Andrei in his human image), "father was with me and caressed me. He approved of me, he approved of Uncle Pierre.'

Tolstoy keeps his characters so honest. It is heartbreaking that Nikolenka is a rather pathetic teenager, but he's so real! -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 705-706, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 1/13/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1178-1179

Collage 724

Lucy Arrington
from page 703-704, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 1/13/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1176-1178

Collage 723

As everything in a dream is false, senseless, and contradictory, except for the feeling that guides the dream, so in this sort of communication, contrary to all the laws of reason, it was not the words that were consistent and clear, but only the feeling that guided them.

p. 1175 in P/V

Lynn Waskelis
from page 701-702, volume 2 of original text
collage, fabric
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1174-1176

Collage 726

Lucy Arrington
from page 707-708, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 1/13/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1180-1181

Collage 722

Princess Marya, my favorite character. She and her husband Nikolai are talking -- he is talking about his concerns about the farm, while she is lost in her own thoughts, reflecting on her feelings towards her husband, her own children, and Nikolenka, her nephew. She faults herself for loving her own children more than Nikolenka. He is an orphan, the son of her brother Prince Andrei and his long-dead wife.

"Countess Marya's soul always strove towards the infinite, eternal and perfect, and therefore could never be at peace. The stern expression of concealed, lofty suffering burdened by a body came to her face." I love Princess/Countess Marya, and religious imagery. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 699-700, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsksy translation page 1173-1174

Collage 721

Nikolai reflecting on his wife Marya:

He was proud that she was so intelligent and good, being conscious of his own insignificance before her in the spiritual world, and rejoiced the more that she, with her soul, not only belonged to him, but made up a part of him."

p. 1172 in P/V

Lynn Waskelis
from page 697-698, volume 2 of original text
collage, fabric, oil crayon
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1171-1173

Collage 720

Nikolai and Pierre argue. Natasha steps in to side with her husband and chide her brother, dispelling the tension. - Adrienne

Adrienne Wetmore
from page 695-696, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink, fauna from Yasnaya Polyana
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1170-1171

Collage 719

Emma Rhodes
from page 693-694, volume 2 of original txt
collage
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1168-1170

Collage 718

Nikolenka is an orphan, the nephew of Princess Marya who is his guardian. In this passage, Pierre comments to Princess Marya how much Nikolenka looks like his father. Nikolenka loves Pierre. Nikolenka is a sad character.

"The curly-headed, sickly boy, with his shining eyes, sat in the corner unnoticed by anyone and, only turning his curly head on its thin neck, emerging from a turned-down collar, to the side where Pierre was, occasionally trembled and whispered something to himself, clearly experiencing some new and strong feeling."

I love the detail -- how he inherited his aunt's "luminous" eyes. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 691-692, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1166-1168

Collage 717

Pierre went to the children, and the laughter and shouting grew still louder. "Well Anna Makarovna," Pierre's voice was heard, "come here to the middle, and at the command, one, two, and when I say three, you stand here. And you in my arms. Now, one, two..." said Pierre's voice; there was a hush. "Three!" and a rapturous groan of children's voices arose in the room.

Lynn Waskelis
from page 689-690, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1165-1166

Collage 716

Lol

As I'm reading the passage, several months after I made this collage, I have no idea what I was thinking as I made it. I like it! It is pretty. However, I can find no relationship between the story line and the collage! In this passage, Natasha's mother grieves the death of her son and husband, and is rather lost. The family makes allowances for her behavior, as they understand her suffering. So perhaps I'm offering a bouquet of lovely flowers to the grieving countess. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 687-688, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1163-1164

Collage 715

Emma Rhodes
from page 685-686, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 1/6/12
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1161-1163

Collage 714

We are in the Epilogue, Part One, Chapter XII.

The chapter opens like this:

"As in every real family, several totally different world lived together in the house at Bald Hills, each maintaining its own particularity and yielding to the others, but merging into one harmonious whole."

I re-purposed someone else's artwork here. This is part of the stash that Lynn found in the eaves of her mother-in-law's old house on Cape Cod. I like how the circles and colors weave together into a "harmonious whole". By using glue, I smeared what were originally hard-edged lines, but it works here, I think. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 683-684, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1160-1161

Collage 713

Entering the epilogue, I had the idea that I would make collages based on the letters in "peace", nicely wrapping up our time together. Brazenly taking several pages at once, I dove in. Starting with such a strong design element, however, turned out to be more challenging than I anticipated. I ended up working on all these pieces for a couple of sittings, thereby breaking a basic rule!

This is the E, the only one that actually looks like one of the intended letters. - Adrienne


Adrienne Wetmore
from page 881-882, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1158-1160

Collage 712

We are in the Epilogue, Part One, Chapter X.

Pierre and Natasha are the perfect picture of domesticity. Hard to believe, but fiery Natasha shifts into an obedient wife.

"The manner and place of their life, their acquaintances , their connections, Natasha's occupations, the raising of the children -- not only was everything done according to the express will of Pierre, but Natasha tried to guess what might follow from Pierre's thoughts voiced in conversation."

What really interests me is the bit about breast-feeding. Pierre had told Natasha about Rousseau's thoughts on using a wet nurse -- that he found the practice to be "unnatural and harmful" The narrator comments that Natasha had a hard time with their first child -- she became sick despair (sounds like postpartum depression to me) and changed wet nurses three times. So with the subsequent children she went totally against convention and breast fed them herself.

This book if filled with these tiny little details of daily life. Which makes it so readable and engaging. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 679-680, volume 2 of original text
collage, acrylic paint, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1156-1158

Collage 711

Natasha lives and breathes her family. All else is insignificant. - Adrienne


Adrienne Wetmore
from page 677-678, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsksy translation page 1155-1156

Collage 710

Natasha and Pierre marry in the spring of 1813!

Adrienne Wetmore
from page 675-676, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 12/1/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1153-1155

Collage 709

...Nikolai allowed himself to give his daughter a gallop around the room. Out of breath, he quickly set down the laughing girl and hugged her to his breast. His leaps reminded him of dancing, and, looking at the child's round, happy face, he thought of how she would be when he, as an old man, started taking her out, and would do the mazurka with her, as his late father used to dance the Daniel Cooper with his daughter.

-p. 1153 in P/V translation

Lynn Waskelis
from page 673-674, volume 2 of original text
collage, acrylic paint
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1152-1153

Collage 708

Marya and Nikolai have a strong relationship, and they give one other what each needs, but something feels wrong to me. Having withstood years of abuse from her father seems to have left her insecure in the shadow of her husband's often brooding nature. - Adrienne Wetmore

from page 671-672, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink, oil pastel, flora from Yasnaya Polyana
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1150-1152

Collage 707

Indeed it did seem that Sonya was not burdened by her position and was completely reconciled with her destiny as a sterile blossom...

-p. 1149 P/V

Lynn Waskelis
from page 669-679, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora, ink
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1148-1150

Collage 706

The tears flowed still more abundantly from the countess's eyes. She took her husband's hand and kissed it.

p. 1147 in P/V

Lynn Waskelis

from page 667-668, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora, ink
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1147-1148

Collage 705

The homely Countess Marya always became pretty when she wept. She never wept from pain or vexation, but always from sadness and pity. And when she wept, her luminous eyes became irresistably lovely.

-p. 1147 in P/V

Lynn Waskelis
from page 665-666, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink, flora
made 12/2/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation pp. 1145-1147

Collage 704

Nikolai and Princess Marya marry! Although I'm not a huge fan of Nikolai, I am happy that Princess Marya finds love, at last. He becomes a farmer and is quite successful, enough so that he is able to re-pay his debts to Pierre, buy another small estate near Bald Hills, and buying back the old family estate Otradnoe, his fondest dream. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 663-664, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 11/4/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1143-1145

Collage 703

Again, Princess Marya meets with Rostov and, again, he is cold to her. As she leaves, her voice quavers,

"I don't know why... you were different before and..."

"There are thousands of reasons why"(he placed special emphasis on the word why).
"Thank you, Princess, he said softly. "It's sometimes hard."

Trish Crapo
from page 661-662, volume 2 of original text
collage, graphite
made 12/31/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1142-1142

Collage 702

Princess Marya is upset by the cold reception given to her by Nikolai Rostov. She vows never to see him again, then changes her mind.

"His cold, courteous tone did not come from his feeling for her (she knew that), but was covering up something."

She needs to discover what it is to have some peace. -- Trish

Trish Crapo
from page 659-660, volume 2 of original text
collage
made 12/31/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1140-1142

Collage 701

Burdened by the financial misdealings of his father and a mother who cannot fathom a life without luxury, Nikolai is indebted to Sonya for running the household and appeasing the Countess, but distances himself from her...

In his heart it was as if he reproached her for being too perfect and having nothing to be reproached for. In her there was everything for which people are appreciated; but there was little of what would make him love her. 


Adrienne Wetmore
from page 657-658, volume 2 of original text
collage, flora from Yasnaya Polyana, twine
made 11/4/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1139-1140

Collage 700

Mine eye hath played the painter and hath steeled,

Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective that is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee; 
   Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
   They draw but what they see, know not the heart.

I used some ephemera on this collage that first made it's appearance a long time ago! Dogs at a dinner party. In this passage (Epilogue Chapter V), Count Ilya Andreevich (Natasha's father) plans her wedding -- dinners, suppers.

I also used Shakespeare (Sonnet XXIV) which occasionally makes its way into this project as well. The magazine images are from Trish's endless stash of interesting materials. Broken hearts, lots of tears (the Moscow fire, the death of Prince Andrei and Petya, the grief of Princess Marya and Natasha. -- Lola

Lola Baltzell
from page 655-656, volume 2 of original text
collage, ink
made 11/4/11
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1137-1139