Monday, November 17, 2008

People with disabilities give voice to their experiences through art

From The Denver Post. In the picture, Mark Burch, right, high-fives Eugene Lawson as Burch works on a drawing at Access Gallery in Denver. VSA (formerly Very Special Arts) pairs people with physical or other disabilities with artists who help them execute their creative ideas.

Brittany Murdock is only 20, but her gait is stiff and halting. She shuffles when she walks. But she says the most painful part of having cerebral palsy is the way people stare at her.

She wants people to talk to her and she wants to talk to them. Given the opportunity to express her feelings in art, Murdock chose a portrait of a butterfly, a symbol that suggests she is beautiful and she can soar.

Reflecting on her poster, which was recently displayed as part of the "Giving Voice," exhibit at Access Gallery/Studio in Denver's Santa Fe Drive arts district, Murdock said, "I was happy that other people got to see the poster and the point I was making: Let me be. I think they got the message."

And that's the point of the program at Access Gallery — allowing people of all ages with physical and mental disabilities to express themselves through art.

The artists, often partnered with professionals, participate in workshops and their pieces are shared with the public in 12 to 16 exhibitions each year.

"Art is often used as an outlet for self- discovery," says the program's executive director, Damon McLeese. "The students create a piece based on what they are feeling. We are giving them a voice."

The Denver gallery is one of the largest of 22, spawned in 1978 after Jean Kennedy Smith created the Very Special Arts program to empower people with disabilities. McLeese said Very Special Arts was shortened to VSA out of respect for the disabled who don't want to be considered "special."

The program's students include the homeless and a broad "underserved population," McLeese said.

A group of adults recently enjoyed a session with a Jackson Pollack theme. Pieces of paint-splattered canvas can still be seen at the gallery.

There was also a tactile exhibit that included sculpture created by those with visual impairments.

A large work, part of the gallery's permanent collection, fills wall space in the office with grotesque faces,

Part of the program's mission is looking beyond the typical and past the normal and finding the creative value in art, no matter who creates it or where it is made.

Describing the studio's place in a neighborhood that includes upscale galleries and less-affluent youths who adorn buildings with graffiti, McLeese said, "The kids who tag buildings with graffiti are very creative. It goes way beyond tagging."

The gallery is now showing some of the street artists' work. The exhibit, street2studio, runs through Friday.

McLeese said a visit to the Access Gallery can change people's perception of the disabled. "We are not your typical art gallery," he said. "We're more education in nature. We're not here to sell art."

Another poster included in the "Giving Voice" show allowed Naomi Morrow, a 30-year-old artist who is blind, to explain how she sees things through touch. She said she could visualize the ocean by touching the waves and the beach by feeling the sand. Morrow attached a poem to her poster. She called it "People are people not a disability."

Another blind woman at a workshop in the gallery spoke excitedly about a screenplay she's writing.

Hannah Tyler, 20, was brainstorming with an interactive artist on ideas for turning a skateboard into a promotional piece for the film, which includes mythological characters she calls "fantastical."

David Hilgier, the designer is helping Tyler depict her ideas, calls the gallery "a great opportunity for professionals to show what they do to those who are considering career paths — and have some fun with it.

"It's an outlet for her to get those ideas across," he says, turning toward Tyler.

Elysia Syriac, one of four designers from Liquid Inc., a design company next door, worked with Murdock to bring the butterfly to life.

"We take their ideas and give them form and shape," she said. "We are working as a team. Hopefully, I'm able to inspire them to follow their dream."

Liquid's graphics art director, Jason Wedekind, was sharing his passion for the arts with Jocelyn Roy, a cheerful 20-year-old who struggles with a learning disability and depression.

As they discussed ideas for a new project using skateboard decks as canvases, Roy said she wanted a theme of freedom. "You get to go fast and the wind's in your hair," she said.

The pair talked about what things Roy thought should be free. "Ice cream should be free because it's so good; it brings people joy and makes people happy. I want it to be for everybody — men and women, white, black, Indian, any color or sex or disability, too."

Calling the gallery her second home, Roy said, "I can come here and not be judged by whatever my background is. I'm not stressed here."

It's this teaming of people with disabilities with artists that turns dreams into reality, McLeese said.

"It's really where the magic happens," he said.

"Nobody has ever asked them what they wanted to say. This is a venue for people who wouldn't have a way to express themselves."