Category Archives: Women Artists

Lauren Ari: Art as affirmation of the artist’s existence, Part II

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Everything you can imagine is real.
– Pablo Picasso, Spanish painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, and stage designer

Dictionary Project: "Tickle."

Dictionary Project: “Tickle.”

The Power of mixed media
Lauren Ari’s use of mixed media, as opposed to any one medium, allows her to express what she is trying to say. While the Richmond-based artist likes working with different materials, her foundation is drawing. Working in mixed media, therefore, enables her drawings to be three-dimensional. Throughout her prolific career, Lauren, 46, has produced some amazing projects, as well as collaborative and interactive pieces of art.

Two years ago, she collaborated with an artist to build an eight-foot-tall structure made of clay that resembled an old-fashioned opera shell, which housed a singer and a butoh dancer –performing a postwar Japanese dance that rejected Eastern and Western dance in order to search for a new identity that would establish meaning for a defeated society. Lauren and her co-collaborator invited the community to make parts that would be attached to the structure. “I’m really interested in the interaction,” she said. She likes people to interpret her work by themselves and to bring their past to the experience, rather than being told what the piece means. This is exactly how she wants people to view her Dictionary Project and Bedscapes.

Lauren's Dictionary painting called Mother.

Dictionary Project: “Mother.”

Dictionary Project
Begun in 1999, Lauren’s Dictionary Project was informed by the fact that she wasn’t stimulated in school. Looking back on her education, she jokingly wondered if she could have learned everything from an encyclopedia. Playing with that idea she envisioned getting a dictionary and painting and learning from it. “It just went into motion and moved forward,” she recalled. When she went to the El Cerrito Recycling Center’s free book exchange shelf, she found a “big, beautiful, old dictionary” on the ground. “I’m a really good ‘manifester’ of stuff,” she said, of her serendipitous experience at the recycling center.

Dictionary Project: "Dreaming" - Annie from Annie's Annuals and her seedlings and flowers.

Dictionary Project: “Dreaming” – inspired by Annie from Annie’s Annuals and her seedlings and flowers. Lauren’s murals grace the walls of the well-known nursery in Richmond, CA.

Since the beginning of the project, she has “fallen in love” with the dictionary – its words, the images on the pages, the edges of the fine paper. “I like the contrast between the delicate, old papers and printing, and my intuitive, quick, impulsive, first thought, best thought, down on the paper, don’t edit – boom,” she explained, punctuating each word. “The complement works really well.” The Dictionary Project – numbering some 200 paintings, which are in her own gallery, galleries in San Francisco, and in private collections – is an ongoing project for Lauren, who said, “I can’t get away from it. I just love it.” This project speaks to how prolific she is.

Bedscape: Sleeping with Death.

Bedscape: “Sleeping with Death.”

Bedscapes
In 1997, Lauren was moved by a “brilliant” art show in London that dealt with the topic of sleeping. A quote from Cervantes’ Don Quijote de La Mancha, which was printed in the pamphlet, inspired her, as did the notion of sleep as death: “All I know is that while I’m asleep, I’m never afraid, and I have no hopes, no struggles, no glories – and bless the man who invented sleep, a cloak over all human thought, food that drives away hunger, water that banishes thirst, fire that heats up cold, chill that moderates passion, and, finally, universal currency with which all things can be bought, weight and balance that brings the shepherd and the king, the fool and the wise, to the same level. There’s only one bad thing about sleep, as far as I’ve ever heard, and that is that it resembles death, since there’s very little difference between a sleeping man and a corpse.”

Lauren's Bedscape "quilt."

Lauren’s Bedscape “quilt.”

Lauren was flooded with a lot of images, but she didn’t translate them, along with the quote, until circa 2004 when she began her Bedscapes Project. She embraced the concept of everything being at the same level when one is asleep as well as the ambiguity between sleep and death. The bedscapes run the gamut of emotions – some are tongue-in-cheek, of which bright colors are used to depict humor. But as viewers look more closely, they see that the message is not “funny.” “I think of them as Venus flytraps,” Lauren said. Some are humorous, some dark – with Lauren’s penchant to mix them up. She views them together on the wall as a quilt, involving sewing, quilting, and piecing together. While mostly made out of clay, the bedscapes may move to a different media, according to Lauren. She is still working on them – so far, she has created approximately 30 – for a show planned in May 2014 at the FM Gallery (483 25th Street, Oakland, CA 94612, 510.601.5053).

Bedscape: "War Babies."

Bedscape: “War Babies.”

The subjects or the different “stories” for the Bedscapes Project find her – including her experiences and things that concern her. “War Babies” was made at the start of the Iraqi War. Early on, she would conceive an idea and create a bedscape. Nowadays, with less time and energy, she will ruminate on ideas, although the bedscapes are still intuitive and spontaneous. “I like for them not to feel labored and to just come together,” she explained. “I like it to be somewhat rough or imperfect – with a feeling of freshness.”

Although her art is not labored, it has a certain freedom that’s difficult to get to. She created two bedscapes that deal with the Chevron refinery in Richmond, called “Rooster’s Wake-up Call”: A giant bird is looming over a man in one bed, while two people covered in a black oil slick lie in another bed. A pile of people on a bed is a visual representation of the history one brings when sleeping with another person. For a bedscape addressing global warming, her tongue-in-cheek “solution” was to give trays of ice to a polar bear in a bed. Another bedscape entitled “Sleeping with Death” depicts a woman sleeping with a skeleton. “These are visual poems for me,” she said. “These are things I feel that I can’t figure out, that I feel are too big a subject matter for me to take on.”

Bedscape: "Rooster's wake-up call."

Bedscape: “Rooster’s Wake-up Call.”

Bedscape: "Who are you sleeping with?"

Bedscape: “Who Are You Sleeping With?”

Finding your own way through art
Lauren has spent most of her life volunteering and teaching. Her high school encouraged students to volunteer. “It always sat well with me that you give back,” she said. Lauren is a painting instructor at NIAD (National Institute of Art & Disabilities) Art Center (531-551 23rd Street, Richmond, CA 94804, 510.620.0290), a contemporary studio art program and gallery serving adults with developmental and other physical disabilities. She also teaches at the Richmond Art Center (2540 Barrett Avenue, Richmond, CA 94804, 510.620.6772), a nonprofit arts education and cultural institution, and Great Clay Adventure, which brings clay instruction to schools.

Bedscapes: "The Kiss."

Bedscape: “The Kiss.”

As was the case with the girl at Children’s Hospital (see Part I), she has experienced illuminating moments as an instructor. Lauren was teaching art to a kindergarten class when the teacher approached one girl, who had smashed her clay, and asked her where her penguin was. Lauren intervened and helped  the girl verbalize her thought process. When the girl responded that the penguin was under a rock, Lauren celebrated her out-of-the-box thinking. “That is just as valid; I don’t have to see a million penguins for you to be right,” she said of her initial reaction. “That’s how I’ve modeled my life.”

Indeed, Lauren entreats all artists to not listen to anybody but themselves. “Be okay with making lots of what I call ‘ugly’ art. It doesn’t have to be perfect; you just have to be in there doing it,” she said. She tells students in her children’s classes that being an artist is akin to being an investigator, with artists using their eyes. “There’s no wrong way,” she insists of the creative process. “You just need to find your own way. As long as you’re not hurting anybody and you’re finding joy, just go for it – this is your one life. Enjoy it and see what’s out there.”

Lauren with Bella, the family dog.

Lauren with Bella, the family dog.

Editor’s note: Lauren teaches art classes at her home studio on Thursdays, 7pm to 9pm, called Art Camp for Adults. Each session comprises four classes. Lauren suggests ideas and the group decides on the direction. The next session begins in September 2013. Lauren is also open to teaching art classes one on one with artists who are experiencing creative blocks or those who want some coaching and need assistance in putting their portfolio together in order to apply to art high school or college. She also hosts art events out of her home twice a year. To see more of Lauren’s work and to contact her, go to her website www.laurenari.com.

Lauren Ari: Art as affirmation of the artist’s existence, Part I

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The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.
– Pablo Picasso, Spanish painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, and stage designer

Lauren at the entrance of her backyard garden.

Lauren at the entrance of her backyard garden.

I met mixed-media artist Lauren Ari, 46, at the Stockton Avenue Art Stroll in El Cerrito this past May. She was selling her framed paintings at the invitation of Jen Komaromi of Jenny K, who is a friend of hers and a fellow former preschool parent. Lauren and I hit it off, and although we had just met, a passerby in the store thought we had known each other for years. The relaxed conversation and easy laughter was largely attributable to Lauren’s honesty and energy. “I’m really honest – perhaps too honest – because my work is that way,” she told me in June, when I visited her at her home in Richmond, a welcoming place that is both an informal museum and sunny garden celebrating her colorful work.

When you look closely at Lauren’s paintings and sculptures, you feel as if you’ve gone – with her permission – into the recesses of her imaginative mind, where both light and dark co-exist. You also feel the frenetic energy that created it and the energy emanating, pulsing from her, which is infectious. “There’s something that’s faster than me, personally; I think I’m behind this energy that is moving me,” she said. “I trust something bigger than myself.” Indeed, Lauren added, “A lot of what I do is very intuitive; I don’t set out necessarily to do X, Y, and Z. Circumstances happen and I follow them.”

The sculpture All Is Love in her studio.

The sculpture “All Is Love” in her studio.

Following the winding path
Creativity was encouraged and ran in the family – her aunt was in ceramics and her uncle is a basket weaver. Her mother was also a creative type and reserved an area of Lauren’s bedroom for making art. She fondly remembers her grandmother’s coffee table books and paintings on the walls of her home, and as a child, Lauren pored over her grandmother’s books on Picasso, who inspired her. “”He spoke to me,” she recalled. By age 15, she was doing performance art with Racheal Rosenthal, called “Doing by Doing,” at the Women’s Building in downtown Los Angeles, where she grew up. She transferred out of public high school to attend a local art school. Although she labeled herself a “square peg,” in this creative environment in which all her teachers were artists she began to identify herself as an artist. “They exposed you to so much,” she said. “I really felt like I was learning for the first time.”

Lauren's flower pots in her garden.

Lauren’s flower pots in her garden.

At the age of 17, Lauren attended the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). The first year at RISD provides the foundation for all students, and although at the time she admitted that she was not ready to listen and just wanted to be left alone to create her art, Lauren said that she learned “most everything.” While she was at RISD, her parents divorced, which led her deeper into her art. “I was in my own space; art was healing for me,” she recalled. Adding to her burden was the familial pressure of how she would be able to make a living from her art, despite her family’s encouragement to pursue her passion. “I didn’t have enough strength in myself to have faith in what I was doing,” she said.

Tile painting in the garden.

Tile painting in the garden.

She dropped out of college after two years and returned home, enrolling in the local community college and then taking on a variety of odd jobs. Feeling the need to finish school, she moved to the Bay Area upon the advice of a good friend and got her BFA with High Distinction from the California College of Arts and Crafts (CCAC) (5212 Broadway, Oakland, CA 94618, 510.594.3600) and later attended the University of California at Davis, where she earned her MFA.

“Art was my voice and a way for me to ground myself into existence,” she said, reflecting on that difficult time in her life. Many years later, when she was teaching art to critically ill children at Oakland’s Children’s Hospital, one of her students, a young girl, did not want to leave her class to undergo a procedure. She kept putting her hand down on the paper, leaving imprints which reminded Lauren of prehistoric cave paintings. “It was like she was saying, ‘I’m here,'” she said. For years, much of Lauren’s work represented proof that she existed. The act of creating was her way of saying to the world: “I’m here.” Art was her vehicle for staying present. “It was a big moment for me to really see myself,” she said.

At home with her daughter Mirabai.

At home with her daughter Mirabai.

The Impact of motherhood on the artist
Lauren experienced another revelation when she gave birth to her daughter, Mirabai, in 2006. Until she became a mother, Lauren didn’t realize how consumed she was with making art. “I didn’t question it [my art] as much. It was who I was, what I did, and I just gave myself over to that,” she said. “It gave me my purpose; it gave me a place to be and to ground.” Whatever energy she had she shifted to raising her daughter. “Having a child later in life was a very humbling experience for me,” she said. During that time, she realized – in a “shockingly painful” way – how imbued she was in her desire to be constantly creating.

“I have a lot more spaciousness now,” she said. Instead of excusing herself to work in her studio, she allows herself the luxury of having long conversations with people. She engages in activities that she has never done before, and she and her poet husband, Daniel Ari, and daughter do a lot of dance and movement together as a family. Lauren has since slowed down with her work. “I’ve just become a lot more relaxed,” she said. Before her daughter’s birth, she had already accomplished many of the things she felt she needed to do as an artist, including having several of her pieces included in the Achenbach Collection of the De Young Museum (50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Drive, San Francisco, CA 94118, 415.750.3600) and a two-person show at the Klaudia Marr Gallery, a well-known gallery in Santa Fe. “I succeeded in the outside world and those were all great things, but now I’m trying to figure out how to get back to my practice,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out what’s next.”

Lauren's sculptures in her studio.

Lauren’s sculptures in her studio.

Editor’s note: Lauren teaches art classes at her home studio on Thursdays, 7pm to 9pm, called Art Camp for Adults. Each session comprises four classes. Lauren suggests ideas and the group decides on the direction. The next session begins in September 2013. Lauren is also open to teach art classes one on one with artists who are experiencing creative blocks or those who want some coaching and need assistance in putting their portfolio together in order to apply to art high school or college. She also hosts art events out of her home twice a year. To see more of Lauren’s work and to contact her, go to her website www.laurenari.com.

One of the many murals in Lauren's backyard. You might recognize her murals at Annie's Annuals in Richmond, CA.

One of the many murals in Lauren’s backyard. Her murals grace the walls of Annie’s Annuals Nursery in Richmond, CA.

Tana Hakanson: The Artist’s journey home (Part II)

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Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.
– Maria Robinson, American writer

Tana working on a painting of a figure in her home studio.

Tana working on a painting of a figure in her home studio.

Abstract painting: The Balancing act
Abstract painting is much more difficult than many people may imagine, according to artist Tana Hakanson. Balance, composition, color, and contrast are as equally important in non-representational art as they are in representational art. “I’m learning to let go of thinking about what I’m doing too much and let the painting process evolve naturally, while at the same time evaluating the piece along the way for all of the elements that make a painting work,” she said. “It’s a balancing act between letting it happen and making it happen.” Artists can plan out the process when working on a representational piece of art, such as a painting of a still life, because they have a preconceived notion of the end product. In abstract painting, however, the work evolves as you go along, according to Tana.

Sketch of a dancer.

Tana’s sketch of a dancer.

“Each painting seems to takes on a life of its own, so trying to get the materials to do the same thing that they did the day before is futile,” she said. Her best paintings have “seemed to come easily and happen by themselves.” The director of her graduate program’s art department painted while watching television to distract him from the act of painting so his art would just “come out.” While Tana appreciates his theory, she prefers to be more engaged in the moment. “I wouldn’t want to miss anything!” she said. Being in the moment happens away from the canvas, as well. Sometimes she’ll wake up in the middle of the night or be walking outdoors and “get colors in my head.” When those moments come to her, she says, with a big smile, “I get inspired. And that’s the magic of it.”

Art and nature
Not surprisingly, Tana is inspired by nature and glazed pottery, specifically textures that occur through natural processes such as geologic formations and colors in rocks, which make the end product unpredictable and unique. Last year she experimented with paint flowing vertically. This year she is playing with organic shapes, as well as letting paint flow around the canvas, with her only manipulation being the choice of colors and size of the canvas, then working with what comes out of it. With each painting changing as it dries, Tana says she never knows what the outcome will be. “I would like to think that my paintings are like nature at work and I’m participating in the play of nature,” she said.

Tana's painting from her series of wood paintings.

Tana’s painting from her series of wood paintings.

Tana is fascinated by quantum physics, fractals, and how nature creates “incredible, beautiful things.” She’s also interested in chaos theory and how nature is predictable in its unpredictability. “Perhaps since we are nature ourselves, we are drawn to nature’s aesthetic, which, though it has patterns, also always has something different thrown in which creates vibrancy,” she said. The works of artists who inspire her share similar themes. San Francisco artist Saundra MacPherson, whose work of layers upon layers of texture is informed by geology, invited Tana to her studio six years ago when Tana saw her work online and wrote her a letter of appreciation. She credits MacPherson with encouraging her to keep going and keep experimenting with her art. Local artist Stephen Bruce, who works with acid on metal, which creates forms via natural processes, is another source of inspiration.

Tana captures the fluidity of dancers in her sketches.

Tana captures the fluidity of dancers in her sketches.

Doing what you love: Tana as inspiration
A philosophical person at heart, Tana has experienced “a lot of existential angst” in her 46 years. Finding daily tasks “often dull and boring,” and “modern life to be sometimes disjointed and vapid,” she has always been on a quest to get deeper into the “essence of things,” which is why she was drawn to art early on and why it was inevitable that she returned to painting. “I’m not sure what it all means, but I have learned that life is short,” she said. “If you’re cutting yourself off from the things that you love and that have meaning to you, you’re not helping the world. So do what you love – even if it’s carving out a bit of time for it initially. Make it work somehow, no matter where you are in your life.”

Tana Hakanson will show her new work at this year’s East Bay Open Studio, sponsored by Pro Arts the first two weekends in June (1-2 and 8-9), from 11am to 6pm, at her home at 1633 Mariposa Street, Richmond, CA 94804. You can also see her work at Tana Hakanson Studio. Support the arts! Let Tana know that you read about her work here.

Editor’s note: Part I of Tana Hakanson: The Artist’s Journey Home was published here on Friday, May 24.

Tana Hakanson: The Artist’s journey home (Part I)

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The object isn’t to make art, it’s to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable.  – Robert Henri, American painter and teacher

Preface
I’ve known Tana Hakanson going on eight years this autumn, when our first-born sons entered kindergarten. Thus began years of volunteering at our children’s elementary school and seemingly endless, idyllic afternoons on the playground, our homes and other friends’ homes, and at various child-centered venues for playdates – while we worked outside of the home full-time. As we got to know one another, we developed a special kinship centered in the arts: Tana is an artist, a painter, and I am a fiction writer. Our bond was deepened by our love of paint and words, respectively, and the shared frustration of not having the time or energy to explore our craft and nourish our souls. Through the years, we commiserated with one another, offered encouraging words, and congratulated the incremental victories of finishing a painting and completing a revision of the novel.

Two-thousand thirteen promises to be an important year for the both of us, as we dive deep and make headway into living our creative lives: My novel, after a 16-year journey, will finally be completed later this year, and Tana, who launched her art studio website earlier this year, is preparing for her second open studio.

Tana Hakanson works on a painting at her home studio in the Richmond Annex.

Tana Hakanson works on a painting at her home studio in the Richmond Annex.

The Artist emerges
This time, last year Tana Hakanson reluctantly signed up to participate in Pro Arts’ East Bay Open Studio last June, at the urging of her husband Mauricio Monsalve. She had returned to painting a year and a half ago, when Mauricio suggested that she reduce her hours as a systems specialist for an adventure travel company to four days a week. But at the time, she felt she didn’t have enough work to present, even though her free Fridays allowed her the block of time she needed to paint. Mauricio knew she was ready, but just needed a push. By the end of the open studio, she had sold 21 paintings and was overwhelmed by the enthusiastic response to her work. As Tana sets up for her second open studio next month, she is better prepared with more work to show and more inspired. More importantly, she has grown so much as an artist.

Tana as a child and budding artist.

Tana as a child and budding artist.

Artistic beginnings, hiatus, and return
As a child, Tana loved to draw. When she went to college, however, she studied music under scholarship. She switched majors and graduated with a degree in English and a minor in music, although she managed to take a lot of drawing and painting classes. When she went on an overseas study program in Indonesia, she fell in love with the local art and was inspired by the colors and how art is part of everyday life in Bali. She studied traditional Balinese art and stayed on after the program ended, painting and selling her work to individual art patrons and in a local art gallery in Bali.

After graduation, Tana tried her hand at commercial art, attempting to combine her love of art with earning a living. She did illustrations of books on dogs and cats. “It was really fun, but I realized it wasn’t exactly what I was trying to get out of art,” she recalled. For Tana, art is “personal and spiritual.” She applied to graduate school, hoping to explore that aspect of art. Most of the programs out there, according to Tana, were more conceptual, socially driven, and intellectual, and not focused on the spiritual or philosophical experience of art. The arts and consciousness program at John F. Kennedy University in Berkeley stressed the process of art over art itself and the transformative aspects of art making. Many graduates of the program become art therapists; but Hakanson said, “I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it [the degree], but I knew it was what I wanted to study.”

Getting her masters jump-started her to develop her art further. When she gave birth to her son Marcelo in 2000 and then her son Mateo in 2003, however, Hakanson focused on motherhood, which she describes as a “deep and ongoing experience.” Although she continued sketching – taking her sketchbooks on family road trips – she stopped painting altogether. Working at Wilderness Travel (1102 9th Street, Berkeley, 94710, 800.368.2794) and taking care of her sons after school didn’t leave any time, especially big blocks of time, for painting.

Tana and her family on a recent trip.

Tana and her family on a recent trip.

She carved out a little time to take up dance, specifically flamenco, which was a different medium for releasing her creativity. “I love the body and I love movement,” she said. “Movement is a way to connect to nature and that energy of life, and it’s transformative in the same way art is.” When her Fridays were freed up, she contemplated dropping flamenco to focus completely on painting. But the movement aspect of dance and dance’s ability to fuel her art and give her energy were important enough to keep both going. “For me, a big aspect of my work is movement,” she said.

Tana's sketch of a dancer.

Tana’s sketch of a dancer.

Abstract painting: Freedom to experiment
Tana is devoting the next two years to developing her painting, and then marketing her work. For now, with Fridays as her only day for painting, she has just enough pieces for next month’s open studio. Tana feels that she’s learned so much in the last year in terms of working with the materials. “The more I paint, the more I understand how to use the material for what I want to do,” she said. One of her many goals this year is to work with disparity in the tones to create more contrast, which creates depth. “I tend to avoid contrast, because this kind of boldness doesn’t come naturally to me – in painting or in real life,” she explained. “But just like in any aspect of life, you have to face it and keep trying if you want to grow. I have a vision of where I want my art to be, but it’s not something I can really pinpoint.”

An abstract painting from Tana's series of water paintings.

An abstract painting from Tana’s series of water paintings.

Experimenting with “liquidy” paint gives her the sense of movement that she is seeking, in both the process itself and the work. “As the paint settles, you can see the energy and flow of movement,” she said. “For me, it’s about freedom to try new things, seeing where it takes me, the unexpected, and surprises along the way,” she said. “The process is the thing for me – then something interesting comes out of it that eventually becomes a painting. Sometimes it just happens naturally – like magic. Sometimes it involves some working and struggling along the way. Mostly it’s some of both, and that interplay makes it compelling.”

Tana Hakanson will show her new work at this year’s East Bay Open Studio, sponsored by Pro Arts the first two weekends in June (1-2 and 8-9), from 11am to 6pm, at her home at 1633 Mariposa Street, Richmond, CA 94804. You can also see her work at Tana Hakanson Studio. Support the arts! Let Tana know that you read about her work here.

Editor’s Note: Part II of Tana Hakanson: The Artist’s Journey Home will be posted on Monday, May 27.

The artist's studio.

A painting dries at the artist’s studio.

Transitions and Transformations: Heidi Werner of Lava 9

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Nothing ever succeeds which exuberant spirits have not helped to produce.
– Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher, poet, and composer

Heidi Werner spends a lot of time making sure her customers find what they need.

Heidi Werner spends a lot of time making sure her customers find what they need.

When Heidi Werner and her two business partners opened up Lava 9 (542 Hayes Avenue, 415.552.6468) in San Francisco in 1991, the impoverished Hayes Valley neighborhood was years away from being gentrified. The economy was down; yet, Werner pointed out, “It [the recession] always opens up opportunities, too.” Driven by youthful exuberance and cheerful indifference of economic conditions, Werner said of that time, “You just go for it!”

Werner knew the owners of Nomads on the block and was drawn to the diverse and eclectic vibe of the neighborhood. The rent was low and the storefronts were small, blank slates, which enticed not only Lava 9 to lay down stakes but other young entrepreneurs, as well. “We created that neighborhood,” Werner said. Nomads, Zonal, and Lava 9 are the original three shops from the early days that are still standing.

Amazing, unique rings on display.

Amazing statement rings on display.

One of her partners, a jewelry designer, already owned a store called Volcano, which figured into the name of their new store. The three of them randomly added the “9” because Lava was too short and the number 9 “sounded good.” The other two women were jewelry designers, while Werner was a leather artisan, creating mostly jackets and bags. Conceived of as a gallery, Lava 9 comprised a showroom for their leather and metal wares and a stage that served as their workshops. They sold their creations and soon afterwards carried other wares, most of which were handmade and selected on Werner’s buying trips.

More Lava 9 jewelry to drool over.

More Lava 9 jewelry to drool over.

A True entrepreneurial spirit
Werner supplemented her income by working at another leather store, but quit when her business partner called one day to inform her that someone had stolen five of her leather jackets. Convinced the theft wouldn’t have occurred on her watch, Werner told herself, “That’s it!” The spontaneous decision to quit and put all of her energies into the store did not rest on whether or not she could do it financially. “It was the true entrepreneurial spirit,” Werner said, of the drive that sprang forth from her. She had told herself back then that it had to work. “And it did!” she exclaimed. When funds were low, Werner would sell two leather jackets the day before rent was due. “Things just worked out,” she said, simply.

An ethereal dress and lots of leather purses.

A casual yet modern dress and lots of leather purses.

One partner dropped out after three months, and the other left before the end of the first year after creative differences. Although the partnership didn’t work out, starting a business with others gave her a sense of security and “more power to do it.” When they left, she carried on without hesitation. “I was fine – I was the most determined,” she said, of the business venture and the solo effort. To this day, Werner, now 54, still subscribes to the philosophy of “Just do it” and not get too caught up with issues. At the same time, she has been frugal from a business perspective. “That’s what helped me through the downturns,” she explained. Just as important, Werner invested in a lot of sweat equity. “Hard work pays off,” she said.

A Passion for sewing
When Werner was a girl in Germany, her mother enrolled her in a sewing class, which sparked her passion for sewing and led to her taking design and pattern-making classes. As a teenager, she often designed and sewed outfits a few hours before going to parties. Although she earned her degree in special education, when Werner came to the U.S., seeking adventure, she turned to making small leather goods, which she sold at small venues such as the Haight Street Fair and other neighborhood street fairs. It often took weeks to craft a leather jacket because of the custom work – Werner would make the pattern, buy the leather and findings, and then sew the garment. She eventually hired a pattern maker and tailor. She still designs some bags, which are made by her tailor.

Lava 9's inviting storefront near the top of Solano.

Lava 9’s inviting storefront near the top of Solano in Berkeley.

The Rise of Lava 9 in Berkeley
Werner opened up her Berkeley shop (1797 Solano Avenue, 510.528.5336) more than four years ago at the former location of Soap Sistahs after a experiencing a midlife crisis. At that time, she wanted to do something different and had designs on becoming a dog trainer (Werner has rescue dogs). But when she heard that the owner was closing the soap store and retiring to Mexico – a scenario that also greatly appealed to her – Werner decided to convert the storefront into the second Lava 9. The new location was ideal because Werner lives in Berkeley, but more importantly, designing and setting up the compact, rectangular-shaped store renewed her passion.

Although there is some crossover, the two cities boast different clientele, which means Werner must offer different products at each store. The Hayes Valley client is younger with more disposable income, whereas the Berkeley clientele is older. Interestingly, some of the Berkeley clients used to live in the Hayes Valley neighborhood but are now mothers whose kids attend the local school around the corner from Solano Avenue. For them, finding one of their favorite San Francisco stores in the East Bay is a pleasant surprise.

A great display of purses on a ladder.

A great display of purses, belts, and clothes on a ladder.

While many designers come to her to show their wares, Werner actively searches for solo artisans, both local and European, whose works are unique, eclectic, and multi-dimensional. One of her biggest challenges is offering something that isn’t carried by another local store. “It’s an ongoing struggle to be different,” she said. In addition to offering unique products, her philosophy is to be able to sell something to everybody – from 14-year-old girls to 86-year-old grandmothers. Thus, Lava 9 carries wares ranging in price from $15 headbands to $4,000 rings. While the handful of economic downturns through the years has led her to introduce more affordable items, her aesthetics and her customer service have created a large and loyal customer base. As an added personal touch and a Lava 9 trademark, purchases are carefully wrapped in high-end designer fabric – scraps supplied by a friend who works in the industry – and tied with festive ribbons.

More gorgeous jewelry beautifully displayed.

More gorgeous jewelry beautifully displayed.

Werner and her staff spend a lot of time with their customers, providing a personal shopping experience not found in most retail clothing stores. Managing the business and running between the two stores takes her away from making it an everyday experience, but the customer interaction is the thing that always draws her back and reminds her why she is still in business. “I love the people; I love all my customers,” she exclaimed, after helping one woman find the ideal belt and short trench, and another choose between two embellished scarves. Indeed, if you’ve ever been to Lava 9 and leisurely browsed through the collections of purses, scarves, belts, clothing, and, of course, jewelry, you can always expect a smile and being drawn into a friendly conversation.

Come in and say hi to Heidi at Lava 9.

Come in and say hi to Heidi at Lava 9.

Insect love

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Checking out the insects in our backyard, in navy lace short jacket, maize silk skirt with linen appliques, and amazingly comfortable Frye platform sandals.

Checking out the insects in our backyard.

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.
– Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

I know how beneficial spiders are, but it doesn’t mean I have to like them. I’m okay with daddy-longlegs, but any hairy spiders in the house are destined to wind up in the vacuum cleaner bag with lots of dog hair. Spiders belong outdoors and not in my house. I’m arachnophobic; just ask my old college roommates about how much I fear spiders! All other insects are interesting when they are also outdoors and not in my house, and not in my son’s room, where a tarantula exoskeleton, which once belonged in my mother-in-law’s classroom when she was a teacher, resides. I suggested to my son that he donate it to his science teacher’s classroom. If this is how I feel about insects, how to explain my love of jewelry inspired by insects? I don’t have an answer for that.

Vintage reclaimed spider bracelet by M.E. Moore (Gorgeous & Green, Berkeley), beloved cicada necklace by Lotta & Djossou (Lava 9, Berkeley), and cicada ring (End of Century, NYC).

Vintage reclaimed spider bracelet by M.E. Moore (Gorgeous & Green, Berkeley), beloved cicada necklace by Lotta & Djossou (Lava 9, Berkeley), and cicada ring (End of Century, NYC).

It all began a few years ago when I was browsing the display cases of jewelry at one of my favorite accessories shops, Lava 9 in Berkeley (1797 Solano Avenue, 510.528.5336). I came across a sterling silver cicada on a long chain. I didn’t get it then, but months later, when I returned to purchase it, the sales person informed me that it had sold. I was disappointed, even as she told me there was a chance the store could order it from the Swedish company, Lotta & Djossou, though it was from a collection from a previous season. As I turned away, I caught sight of some jewelry at eye level in a glass case on the main counter, and lo and behold, there was the cicada in all its etched glory. The necklace apparently had made its way from Lava 9’s San Francisco store to the Berkeley store. Just for me.

Jan Michaels loves insects as much as I do: bumblebee cuff (Philly) and necklace and pin (Lava 9).

Jan Michaels loves insects as much as I do! From left to right, bumblebee cuff (purchased at a Philadelphia shop on North 3rd Street) and necklace and pin (Lava 9).

There was something about it that reminded me of both the Victorian and Art Nouveau eras. It was edgy yet romantic, something Stevie Nicks would have worn back in the early 1970s. Two years ago, I met a local woman as part of a consumer group for a retail clothing and accessories company at their headquarters in Philadelphia. She was wearing a vintage Art Nouveau butterfly necklace. It was stunning – the kind of jewelry that you wear alone, and if you did wear another accessory it would be deemed fashion blasphemy. She told me she had admired the piece for a long time, and then when the vintage shop owner decided to close her business she gave the necklace to her. I stopped short of asking her to name her price, though I knew such a request would be futile. Thus began my hunt for a vintage butterfly necklace via eBay, Etsy, and antique and vintage shops – all in vain so far.

Dragonfly necklace and beetle cuff made from reclaimed metal by Alkemie of Los Angeles.

Dragonfly necklace and beetle cuff made from 100% reclaimed metal by Alkemie of Los Angeles.

Butterflies and cicadas. Soon bumblebees in earrings from Anthropologie and an ornately wrought cuff became part of my insect jewelry collection. I got the bumblebee cuff while in Philadelphia and got a good laugh when the sales person told me the artist was Jan Michaels from San Francisco and not from a local jewelry designer. Then I added a dragonfly and a beetle, both from Alkemie, to my small but growing collection. Beijo Brasil makes beautiful butterfly earrings and necklaces out of translucent resin. I found a cicada ring at End of Century in New York last fall. I was tempted by a couple of thick sterling silver cuffs with row upon row of beetles, but I didn’t succumb, at least not that visit. And then I came full circle to Lava 9, adorned with more winged insect jewelry.

Bumblebee necklace (Fossil), bumblebee and rhinestone studs (Anthropologie), translucent resin butterfly necklace by Beijo Brasil (De Young Museum, San Francisco).

Bumblebee necklace (Fossil), bumblebee and rhinestone studs (Anthropologie), translucent resin butterfly necklace by Beijo Brasil (De Young Museum, San Francisco), and winged insect necklace (Lava 9).

I’m pretty particular about the look and feel of insect jewelry. I’m drawn to both Art Nouveau and Art Deco, vintage and edgy. I’m still in search for that perfect vintage butterfly necklace. If you share a love for insect jewelry, I welcome you to share it with me and other fellow admirers. If you can’t shoo insects out of the house, adorn them on your fingers, wrists, and around your neck.

Piling on the insect jewelry!

Piling on the insect jewelry!