Just over a year ago, Inara Verzemnieks did my portrait. Somewhere in that process, she and I started talking about Apple Pie instead of Swollen, and it came out that Inara’s father and grandparents had emigrated from Latvia. My father’s grandparents had also come from that small Northern European country, but they had arrived at turn of the last century. By the time their heritage had filtered down to my generation, it was nothing more than in name--specifically in the name of my cousin Kenny’s cat, Riga (which is the capitol city of Latvia). I wanted to know more about my Baltic roots.
I immediately invited Inara to participate in Apple Pie, but she refused. She worked (and still works) for the regional paper and, as such, couldn’t give even the appearance of receiving special treatment for her position. I understood her decision, but was disappointed, and eventually found a means of (almost) having my way!
My charming assistant (for the day) and friend (visiting from Germany), Carsten, “modeling” the Apple Pie book
Fairly early in the making of Apple Pie, I decided to create a book about the series. I knew it would gather together images of my paintings along with the subjects’ statements about what it means to be American (like the one by Nam included in this post), but it wouldn’t be complete with just those elements. It needed an essay by a “professional” to lend it that certain gravitas.
To this end, I approached a couple of local art critics and even considered asking my old art history professor who often writes about northwest artists. I had offered to pay these professionals, but, for various reasons, they each declined. Only then did I put together everything I had been thinking about the series and ask Inara to write for the book.
I suddenly realized that it was silly of me to look to art world types: I wasn’t interested in their writing in the context of this book. I had asked them only because it seemed like critics were the proper professionals, the people who always write the essays for exhibit catalogues. But then it hit me that the book I was making was hardly a traditional catalogue--it couldn’t be with the portraits’ subjects acting as contributing writers!
Inara’s story, her own take on being a part of the transitional generation, was exactly what I was looking for in an essay about Apple Pie. Happily, she agreed to share it.
Inara’s essay makes the book whole.
Apple Pie: Twenty Slices Of The American Dream will be available for viewing (as well as for purchase at $22) at the show, which runs 28 August through 20 September at the Interstate Firehouse Cultural Center.
The opening reception is this Thursday the 28th from 5 to 7:30...there will be lots of apple pie--of the delicious type!--at the party so please come and help me eat it!