Fiona Exhibit 2023

Jim Aquilani

I(t) came. I saw(ed). I conquered. – ring
Birch bark, sterling silver, chainsaw links, epoxy, and nail polish

The chainsaw links represent the massive amount of cutting and cleaning up of the trees downed by Fiona. The birch bark is from one of the hundreds of trees we lost around the studio during the storm.

Years In Days – pendant
In-house cast sterling silver cuttlefish, steel roofing

The cuttlefish cast silver represents the wind and waves that occurred during Fiona and the rusted steel (from a neighbour’s roof) represents the heavily eroded red cliffs of PEI.

Still Standing - cuff
Copper, sterling silver, in-house sand-cast White Pine needles with patina for contrast

The centre of the cuff represents the trees that withstood the storm and remained upright, their silhouettes visible through the mist that lingered the next morning. The cast branches represent the trees that didn’t make it.

Windthrow – earrings
In-house cast sterling silver cuttlefish, copper, and Hawthorn tree thorns

The cuttlefish cast silver represents the wind and waves that occurred during Fiona and the copper represents the root balls of the uprooted trees. The Hawthorn thorns represent the trees that blew down. (Windthrow: Windthrow occurs when trees are toppled by wind; trees are uprooted as they topple over.)

Alex Bevan Baker

Fiona “Treepot” Set
Stoneware - Wild Clay Glaze

I think of my teapot set as a playful twist to what was otherwise a devastating loss. Finding beauty amongst the aftermath of Hurricane Fiona seemed far fetched. For the shape of my vessels, I drew inspiration from the torn limbs scattered across the Island. Muddy banks exposed wild clay that I used in the glaze. Again, trying to shed amusement and light on a dark subject, the set is whimsical in form. To stay true to functionality, only one spout pours liquid. There is always a level of comfort with a cup of hot tea.

Ellen Burge

New Habitat
Stoneware, multiple firings, underglazes, and sodium

Many fallen trees have opened the earth, exposing roots and creating new habitats for many creatures. This piece was partially fired to represent the abrupt power failure during the storm.

Pine Globe
Stoneware, pine needles, waxen thread

This hand-built globe reflects natural features of the earth.  The pine needles are from fallen trees.

Ashley Anne Clark

Regenerative Forest
Ink, watercolour, acrylic, Sugar Maple branch, Birch branch, lichen, wood glue, paper, seaweed, fixative and Varathane on wood

This artwork grieves the loss of the many trees that were taken out by Hurricane Fiona. We form attachments to these long-living plants and learn so much from them. The more we learn about trees, the more we understand how interconnected they are. It is upsetting to see their lives cut short. The piece also depicts new life sprouting from the wreckage, representing the regenerative powers of the forest and inspiring us to do the same.

Fairouz Gaballa

The Cozy Nook
Wood, foamboard, popsicle sticks, cardboard, terrycloth, fabric, and cord

This sculpture represents the hurricane as both a literal and metaphorical entity, capturing the essence of my personal experience with Hurricane Fiona. The room appears to be a real living space…however, outside the giant window, you see two birds flying amidst darkness and rain reminiscent of the storm. I found solace during the storm by reading books, which provided me with a comforting escape from the chaos outside.

Trudy Gilbertson

And When the Power Came Back On…They Danced!
Naturally shed deer antler on driftwood

After Hurricane Fiona, we spent 13 days without power or running water. When the power came back on, there was much celebration.  The antler, is a matched set of naturally shed white tail deer antler from a ranch in Alberta.  I picked up this piece of driftwood in December, on the Range-Light Wharf in North Rustico Harbour, where large piles of debris were left behind in the wake of Hurricane Fiona.  Using a broken piece of driftwood for the base, loosely borrows from the Japanese philosophy of “wabi-sabi”: the concept of seeing and embracing the beauty of imperfection and impermanence in nature.

Jessica Hutchinson

Fiona’s Ashes
Red and white stoneware, pit fired with organic waste, salt, driftwood and wood from fallen spruce and apple trees.

On my tiny property alone, I lost seven large trees. I spent weeks cleaning up debris and brush. I found myself having many bonfires and realized that I could easily turn these debris fires into pit firings. Seven pinch pots decorated by the ash, smoke, and fire of seven trees.

Soup for Days
Hand-built red stoneware; ash glaze from fallen spruce and apple trees; driftwood from post-Fiona beach walk

I made these driftwood spoons in response to spending 18 days without power. My family and I mostly ate things that were easy to cook on our propane camp stove: soup, beans, lentils, stew, curry, and more soup – all things enjoyed with spoons. I wanted these spoons to look very basic, primal or caveman-like to mirror the primitive feelings and sense of despair that I was succumbing to on Day 18 of no power.

Cathy Murchinson Krolikowski

Portrait of Fiona
Stained glass

My family has always had a close connection to the sea…I’d never felt the danger that the ocean can become. Fiona showed her fierce face to us in the Maritimes and has left us changed physically and emotionally. This is how I conjured her face as the storm raged through the night.

Arlene MacAusland

Green Shadow Tea Cozy
Cotton tea towel indigo dyed with Ori Nui stitching and Shirokage (white shadow) felt resists, overdyed with green

The indigo vat I used was created on the back deck of the PEICC in the shade of a lovely tree which was uprooted during Fiona. (Thankfully I moved the vat inside PEICC two days before Fiona hit.) I fondly refer to the tea cozy as Green Shadow in memory of that lost tree. This piece was dyed in the week following Fiona and is a reminder of the slower lifestyle we experienced; boiling water on a camp stove, gin rummy, puzzles and hand stitching.

Patched Roof, Not so Cozy
Felt resist with thread and picture wire.

After Fiona, we patched our roof with leftover tarps from camping and the wood pile. This is a reminder of the not so cozy feelings: sounds of dripping water from a leaky roof, frayed nerves and power lines. 

Blowdown, Not so Cozy
Thread and moss.

Wind snap and root balls, and the uncomfortable awareness of climate change.

Lucas MacDonald

Branches
Trembling Aspen windfall branches, paint

These branches were recycled from the aftermath of Fiona, and their new form mirrors the infinite cycle of life and death that is present in the natural world.

Eventually, no matter what is done, the branches will decay, return to the earth, and become nourishment for new life to grow. The process of destruction and rebirth is a reminder that everything is connected and the cycle of life is never truly broken.

Rilla Marshall

Found Lines
Hand woven with cotton, Dogwood, and fern

After the destruction of Fiona, I found my eyes scavenging the ditches for colour. Without the autumn colours of the leaves, the colours of the rural Island ditches brightened [and] I was especially drawn to the deep burgundy red of the Red Osier Dogwood. Using stems as my weft, weaving on my floor loom, I wanted to create patterns emphasizing the diagonal lines of our fallen forests.

Noella Moore

Blue Jay
Birch bark and dyed porcupine quills.

As a Mi’kmaw artist, it has always been important for me to find materials for my work in nature. Many birch trees came down during the storm, which was sad to see, but it has provided lots of material for my quillwork backing. This piece looked perfect for a Blue Jay on a branch. The storm could not keep them from ‘singing’ the next day.

Julia Purcell

Ode to a Downey Woodpecker: Love, Loss and Renewal
Linocut, archival inks, printmakers paper

Some time ago, I came across the body of a lifeless woodpecker while out for a walk near my home. I have reimagined him and a mate as victims of the tropical storm Fiona. With a background of shattered trees, the woodpeckers become the heroes of my linocut series. One of the woodpeckers is killed in the storm and the other survives to return the following spring with a new mate…a story about love, loss, and renewal. Countless small animals and birds were threatened by the powerful winds of Fiona. The aftermath of this storm will be felt for a very long time.

Nora Richard

Red Osier Basket
Dogwood and pine

…to me, there was a beauty in what was left behind. Regardless of Fiona, the Red Osier Dogwood stayed standing, where the big trees that looked so sturdy were destroyed. This basket represents the resilience I saw after the hurricane and destruction.

Ayelet Stewart

Memory Keepsakes for Fiona Debris
Silver, copper, jade, pearls, moss, lichen and grass

Witnessing the devastation…left me feeling helpless and wanting to do something to honour and preserve what was left. I found myself drawn to the moss, lichen, bark, and little treasures blown away from their mother tree and scattered on the ground. These findings that are seemingly worthless are precious to me, so I had the idea of creating keepsake capsules for the debris…serving as a physical reminder of the power of nature and the importance of cherishing and protecting our environment.

Jane Whitten

Ode to Lichen
Crocheted wool, dyed with lichen from felled trees, knitted embroidery thread and stainless steel wire

Lichens look like doilies…they drape over rocks and branches like they might be protecting them. Lichens are critical to the environment and are very slow growing. How many lichens have we lost on the trees that have been felled because of Fiona?