THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, March 31, 1996 TAG: 9603280159
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 15 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Mary Ellen Riddle
LENGTH: Medium: 90 lines
HAVE YOU seen the kind of art that speaks to the soul? Work that won't let go of you even after you've left it behind? It's got a universal feel, a haunting truthfulness - like a dream.
You could group works like Rodin's ``Balzac,'' de Chirico's ``Melancholy and Mystery of a Street,'' Hopper's ``Early Sunday Morning'' or Soutine's portraits in that category.
These are works that speak to something deeper than what we create through our conscious state alone.
In the most recent Frank Stick Art Show, held this February in Nags Head, a local poet and photographer offered the audience a picture that manifests these qualities. It's a real sleeper, though.
Steve Lautermilch of Colington, associate professor emeritus from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, entered a color photograph of a young girl reading at a desk. When first viewed, the work seemed very humble. A desk, a turquoise wall, a still figure reading, some sunlight. No special effects, no fanfare.
I turned and walked away. But I was only gone for a minute before I found myself standing in front of the photo again. I asked myself over and over, ``What was it about this quiet piece that captivated me?''
At home that night the image kept popping into my head. I kept thinking, ``I wish she'd finish that book and go away!''
When I spoke to Lautermilch about my reaction, he explained that when we read deeply, we enter a place in our mind that lies on the faultline between the conscious and the unconscious. The figure in the picture was reflecting that state.
In his work as a photographer, writer and teacher, Lautermilch said, he tries ``to identify these moments and places and people which speak out of that boundary and speak to that boundary. To be able to find words or images that contain that kind of power.''
The boundary is on the threshold of the dreaming state, said Lautermilch, who also teaches dream workshops. It's where meaning arises and dissolves and disintegrates.
By examining our dreams and coming to understand our own dream language, Lautermilch said, we can become whole. Art that comes from working that threshold manifests truth, and all those ``eternal'' type words.
Growing up, I was forever caught in a world of dream-like images. For more than 20 years, I stored in my mind pictures and feelings. If I needed to ``think'' something through, I would go into a meditative state and open a part of my mind that held answers and knowledge. The answer would then travel from that warehouse and float to my conscious mind. Heaven help me when it came to ``showing my work'' in Algebra!
I had no WORDS floating around in my head. No arguments I could rattle off, no theories, no pros and cons, no catchy phrases. Only images, a meditative pause, then an answer. I knew things; that's the only way I can describe it.
It drove my sister nuts. She was a real word pro. She could run circles around me while I was taking what looked like a mental leave of absence. I'd stand my ground and insist I was right.
Then she would ask me, ``Why?'' At this point I would run into my room. I was so confused by her verbal gymnastics my head was swimming.
After talking with Lautermilch, I came to believe that I had been dipping into the valley between the conscious and unconscious to achieve my ``knowing.''
Lautermilch says that through ``knowing'' your dreams, you can really make choices rather than react blindly in life. And the art you produce? Why, it speaks from the wholeness you operate from.
``That kind of art will encourage more searching,'' he said.
I have not forgotten his photograph. Because Lautermilch presented this honest image, we exchanged a little bit of truth.
Dreams and creativity - they're something to sleep on. Pass the pillow, please. MEMO: Mary Ellen Riddle covers the arts for The Carolina Coast. Send comments
and questions to her at P.O. Box 10, Nags Head, N.C. 27959.
MORE INFORMATION
For more information about Steve Lautermilch's dream work, meditation
and writing seminars, call 480-0060. ILLUSTRATION: Photo by MARY ELLEN RIDDLE
Steve Lautermilch says in his work as a photographer, writer and
teacher, he tries to find a place in our mind that lies on the
faultline between the conscious and the unconscious. . . . The
boundary is on the threshold of the dreaming state, said
Lautermilch, who also teaches dream workshops. It's where meaning
arises and dissolves and disintegrates. Art that comes from working
that threshold manifests truth, and all those ``eternal'' type
words, he says.
by CNB