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.