'Value of attentive listening, power of patience, true spirit of collaboration:' Durham artist Heather Gordon on art, motherhood

Gordon shares a home studio with her son Henry, 4.

"Each of us [have] creative spaces and our own supplies, our own visual investigations. We are a hive of two," she tells me. "I've been making art with intention since I was eight. Henry has been making art since he was two. He considers himself an artist already. I'm learning a great deal about art making and what it is to be an artist from him."

I checked in with Gordon to learn more about her work, her piece in You Are Here and the Matrons of the Arts initiative. Here's a Q&A:

In my work, I use numbers, geometry and algorithms to create shapes about specific stories I want to tell. These shapes generally take two forms: origami folding designs with linear geometric patterns or curvilinear spiral forms based on divisions of a circle into intervals of time or duration. These shapes then become other things like paintings and drawings or collaborative projects like live dance performance and choreography, video projection works or site-responsive installation pieces.

That feeling is what drives me to make art and is responsible for getting me up every day and doing it again. Curiosity is what I’m attempting to generate because it helps support our better selves and fills us with wonder about this beautiful and sublime place in which we live. So how does it look, Heather? It can be a quiet drawing made with an economy of lines and arcs that lives in a private space within your home or a larger painting that be rolled and carried forward through a family like an heirloom rug or it can be an installation piece that seeks to envelope a visitor into a complete environment of movement, light and sound.

So I asked those questions of myself. Who am I? How did I become this person? How is my sense of self informed by what I do during the day (my work)? What experiences help me to know who I am? How can I be clear about what I want and need? How can my life and work be additive to my experience and to the experience of other people?

The answers to these questions shift and unfold over time. In the most basic sense, being with Henry has shown me the value of attentive listening, the power of patience and non-judgmental observation, and the true spirit of collaboration. It's changed my relationship to my work, expanding the bedrock from which it comes to include more collaborative projects where I can witness colleagues thrive and express themselves through their incredible skills and insight.

Together we can lift the edges of that which seems so heavy and discover our full selves in the company and support of each other. Right now, I'm attempting to be an example for the perspectives, attitudes, and behaviors I think Henry needs in order to be and know himself fully. And, of course, in trying to be this example, I too have come to know myself more fully and I think that comes out in my work as a natural extension.

Alchemy, as a discipline, seeks to explain philosophical concepts through the study of chemical processes. Discussion of these three principles tells a story of how Sulfur (idea) lends shape to the fluid metal Mercury (material) to create Salt, otherwise known as the Rebis. Salt is a symbol of the reconciliation of soul and matter, and finds embodiment in a being who has balanced these conflicting opposites.

There’s much more to tell here, but essentially my interest here is in the transformative moments of self that can occur when encountering the stuff of the world so much of which causes cognitive dissonance and internal/external conflicts of all sorts.

So how will it look? The work is situated in the entry of the East Building of the museum, the opener for the entire exhibit. The exterior glass will have an origami pattern mapping the atomic properties of Mercury (the stuff of the world) all taped out in 1” white vinyl tape on the entry doors, as well as the Education wing entrance and the upper floor Library. Once inside the entry vestibule, the visitor meets the interior taped pattern for Sulfur wrapping floor to ceiling in red on the glass accompanied by a tonal sound which is barely perceptible. Through the glass and inside of the museum itself, there is a 9’ square projection of salt dancing on a dark surface, creating curvilinear geometric patterns caused by the interaction of sound frequencies on a metal plate (the famous Chladni experiment).

My hope is that this work will be welcoming and establish a frame of mind that is both curious and open, since this will be the first work visitors to this show will likely encounter. It is a moment where the stuff of the world meets our individuals selves and offers a moment for internal transformation through wonder. Art has the power to transform, and I’m hoping to literally open the front door to that experience as visitors engage with the other works in this immersive exhibition.

Personally, I think artists seek to tell a story of the human condition through their work, and it makes sense to attempt to bring representative stories from all parts of that human experience. Balance is critical, otherwise we’re not telling the full story.

That seems a simple answer to a complex question. There are broader discussions here concerning the role of a museum or various types of institutions, how we conceive of gender and sex in the first place, and how we tell stories culturally, which by necessity include something and exclude others in order to create focus for meaning which can lead to understanding.

In the end, this is not a simple answer and one requiring constant vigilance, willingness to listen and reflect, and invite all voices into the conversation. It’s an alchemical process in and of itself. One in which we ourselves must be curious and willing to discover who we are as individuals and as a people.