Stone Glyph by Iktome, aka, Irvin Via, on the right-of-way for I-26, Sprinkle Creek, 1998.

Josh and I were fortunate to have a wonderful right-up by Johnny Casey in the Asheville Citizen-Times and the Marshall News Record and Sentinel about our upcoming exhibit at Mars Hill University, titled PLACE: REFLECTIONS BY COPUS AND AMBERG.

In the story Johnny refers to us as Icons, which seems far too important to me. I much prefer Dellie’s introduction of me to a friend as,”This here’s Rob, he make’s ‘em pictures.” However, I do think that Josh and I, because of our personalities, interest and love of the community, and willingness to put our work out in the world, are among the most visible representatives of the significant changes happening in Madison County. As I say in the article, we are, in fact, agents of change.

I think a lot about the changes that have come to the county in my forty-nine years here and the role I and other newcomers play in that evolution. What I’ve come to understand is that many people have come to Madison County over the last few centuries — Native Americans, European settlers, refugees from the Civil War, refugees from the cities, and now, hundreds of young people and retirees seeking slow, quiet, and a close connection to the land. Everyone, whether they’ve stayed and built a life, or simply passed through on their way to someplace else, has left their footprint on this PLACE. Who am I to judge if one footprint is more significant than another?

I’m reminded of a quote by one of my favorite authors, Octavia Butler, in her novel, The Parable of the Talents.

“All that you touch
You change.
All that you change
Changes you.
The only lasting truth
Is Change.
God
Is Change.”

We are, in essence, all agents of change.

PLACE: REFLECTIONS BY COPUS AND AMBERG
Weizenblatt Gallery, Mars Hill University
September 21 to October 14, M-F 10-4
Opening Reception: September 28. 6-8 pm

Josh and I, both, have done numerous artist’s statements over the years. They change like the seasons. Here is mine for this exhibit.

Princess Kate and the Griffin Boys, PawPaw, 1994.

As I look at my photographs in this exhibition, I reflect on my forty-nine years in Madison County and how this place has mentored and ultimately defined me. Initially, I think about the land itself—the soil, the trees, the springs and creeks—and how this land has fed my belly, provided work, built my studio, and given me heat and water and solace. I think, too, about the hundreds of people I’ve met, many I count as close friends, who I never would have met if I’d lived somewhere else. I think about my work, my art, my photography, and increasingly, my writing, and how Madison County has fed that art. It’s allowed me to indulge my interests in culture, history, literature, and photography. It’s provided a pallet, a blank page, as well as, ever diverse and challenging subject matter. It’s hard to imagine living anywhere else.

I’ve been fortunate to have mentors in my life and career—teachers, photographers, close friends, neighbors, farmers, family members, my wife. They’ve all helped shape my life, be what it is. In turn, I’ve been able to offer some measure of guidance to many young people, to be the kind of adult I sought out when I was struggling to find my way.

But as I’ve aged I realize life has come full circle. Increasingly, I find myself surrounded by young people, thirty and forty year olds—my children, Ben and Kate, my long-time assistant, Jamie Paul, yoga instructors, young artists, chefs, musicians, and image makers—and turning to them for guidance, inspiration, and energy.

I met ceramic artist Josh Copus not long after he moved to Madison County and we bonded pretty quickly over a mutual love and curiosity about place and people and history. I was struck by his prolific energy and commitment to this county he was now calling home. I love his creativity.

I have been around a number of potters over the years and have long been intrigued and tempted by the clay. When Leslie’s mom passed away, we spoke with Josh about making an urn for her ashes. That initial conversation evolved to Josh offering me space and time and guidance in his studio in exchange for photographs for his Jail Project. With Josh’s encouragement I dug clay from our land, cleaned it, and spent many hours shaping, coiling, smoothing, glazing, and firing, eventually producing an urn I think Faye will like resting in.

This urn, this shaped form from our land, is as much a gift to me as it is to Faye. With it, I’ve discovered something new about myself, reminding me to take risks and be open to new mentors, to be persistent, and to understand that life is for living.

PLACE: REFLECTIONS BY COPUS AND AMBERG
WEIZENBLATT GALLERY, MARS HILL UNIVERSITY
SEPTEMBER 21-OCTOBER 14, M-F, 10-4
OPENING RECEPTION: SEPTEMBER 28, 6-8 PM

Pictures & Words