əˈfem(ə)rə/
noun
things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short time.
items of collectible memorabilia, typically written or printed ones, that were originally expected to have only short-term usefulness or popularity.Ephemera Collector by Judy Takács Best in Show at the 73rd Ohio Annual, Zanesville Museum of Art and also Grand Prize winner of the Artists Magazine All-Media Competition Available through 33 Contemporary in Chicago, at artsy.net |
Ephemera, a fleeting thing that takes its feathery place as a memory without taking up space as a reality.
Human life is ephemeral.
My dad passed away in 2015, my mom, six months later in 2016. Having lived in the same house for the past 50 years, they amassed and produced a lot of things.
And by things, I mean writing. Both were professors.
And by things, I mean writing. Both were professors.
My dad had created mountains of notebooks, carefully penned in flawless Hungarian Cursive. Pages of equations with occasional words peppered in; “therefore,” “it can be concluded” “given” and “we can surmise” separated paragraphs of calligraphic sigmas, lambdas, x’s, y’s and equal signs.
To my artistic eye, these scripts were like Ancient Arabic, Chinese or Hebrew…so beautiful to look at, but (sorry) Greek to me.
Some of it (18 boxes actually!) went to be scanned and archived at Case Western Reserve University, (link to come) where he retired as professor emeritus in the late ’80s. My dad’s legacy as a Pioneer in Queueing Theory will be preserved and useful to generations of future mathematicians who can actually read these calculations…which, I’m told, are brilliant.
And some of the writings were absconded by me…as ephemera to incorporate into my art and to be appreciated for its visual beauty alone.
My mom’s writings were more readable.
As a professor of English Literature at Notre Dame College of Ohio, a scholar of the Irish Dramatists and Shakespeare, and a contemporary author and historian, she had mountains of beautifully organized notes for teaching, research, study and analysis. She had journals too…galore…which will be kept intact for the ages, and for me to read about who she actually was, independent of being my mom. She also sowed many seeds of ideas for novels and stories. These may some day serve as inspiration for paintings.
I also absconded bits and pieces from her loose writings to incorporate into my art, drawing great comfort from her familiar handwriting.
So I present to you my Ephemera Series.
Instead of posing myself yet again (some say all our portraits are really self-portraits) I chose my model as a timeless angel for the ages…collecting, defending and dispersing wispy whispers of Ephemera with luscious vintage butterfly nets and expressive hands and face.
Into my oil paintings, I collaged butterflies torn from my parents’ combined writings…floating, fleeting ephemera.
As with all the found things from my parents’ home, life and legacy, I try to pass them forward for a new life and purpose.
Ephemera Defender, included in the Manifest Gallery In Memoriam Show, 2017 Judy Takács |
I was thrilled to see that my gold starred kindergarten math worksheet found its forever home plastered front and center in the middle of Liz Maugans' monolithic collage at the Hedge Gallery.
Five year old Judy Takács got a star on her kindergarten math worksheet |
I can't seem to get organized My worksheet featured front and center in Liz Maugans’ Multi-media print collage |
I have also passed along boxes of jewelry from my mom and grandmother’s compounded collection to my favorite jewelry artist, Kim Mettee…who has fashioned them into two amazing commissioned necklaces for my sister and myself along with a host of other adornments.
Earrings and necklace by Kim Mettee Designs inspired by pieces from my grandmothers jewelry from Istanbul |
My dad’s books have found loving homes with the Math Grad Students of Case Western Reserve and with my own math-loving boys. My mom’s books on Shakespeare and Drama are the start of a library for theatre majors at Baldwin Wallace University. The Hungarian books have been carefully distributed in the U.S. and in Hungary by a good-hearted docent at the Cleveland Hungarian Museum. And a couple of Irish Fairy Tale books found their way to my Irish neighbor Teresa’s house to read to her many nieces and nephews.
What I still have left, however, are many (many) writings.
Zoom in to see the gorgeous handwriting from my parents’ ephemeral writings. |
Ephemeral Whisper, included in the Catharine Lorillard Wolf 121st Exhibition in NYC
Judy Takács
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