Embroidery

The images in the embroidery are vibrant renderings that depict the animals, lore, and lives of the people that live on the island of laGonav.

If you'd like to purchase artwork or simply contribute to the Women's Art Centre, Courageous Women Theatre Group or the Matenwa Community School for Development please contact me or go the the school's website to connect with Chris Low directly.

www.matenwa.org

Again, the youtube video really captures the spirit here as well.

www.youtube.com (search Matenwa)

Art Centre and Work

This building was skillfully built by the wise, calm, capable hands of Boloslo. There is a picture here of him holding one of his six daughters. He is also the area's bone setter, gently working to set the broken bones of people, as well as all animals. He is a master craftsman and gentle, kind soul.

He, as well as any men, are welcome to attend the meetings and productions of the Women's Art Centre. Abner Saveur, the head or principal, of the Matenwa School was also a regular here.

There are two rooms above the studios that house visiting artists, educators from around the world.

Art Centre and Work

A fifteen minute walk through cornfields and past the yummy kanape tree the winding path opens up to the colorful women's art centre. It was founded as a venue for local women to create artwork, thus generating self-sustaining income for themselves and their families. Traditionally, men work outside the home leaving little recourse or livelihood, for women and their children, who do not have a (reliable or employed) man in their lives.

The art centre got off the ground with collaborative assistance from Ellen LeBow, artist and educator. When we visited last, six years ago women were painting large silk scarves with designs indigenous to the region, animals, mermaids, plants, birds. The production back then took place on Chris' back porch. Whenever these women come together to make art, meet, practice or perform, they sing a powerful, moving, self-written song of strength, endurance, thankfulness and love.

This new, gorgeous, spacious centre houses a music room where guitar playing is taught and composed, songs are written and sung and theatre practiced. Another room functions as the basis of the spectacular scarf making. While we were there we watched, fascinated as huge silk banners commissioned by Vassar College were gracefully completed.

The next building has two airy rooms where the detailed and well-crafted embroidery work is done. Haitian sequined 'flags' are probably the most well-known of this islands' art. The intricate beading and minute stitching are sparkly masterpieces.

Our host mother, Josyen, heads the embroidery group, teaching and keeping accounts. We were thrilled to be able to bring back to the states the embroidery work that was finished to send on to a gallery in Boston. I'm finishing up some basting and ironing and will send them off next week.

I've been in touch with the gallery owner and she's allowed that we could purchase what we'd like and send her the rest. If you see something you'd like to own, directly supporting the women of Matenwa, in these photos or want to stop by and take a look at the whole collection please give me a call, soon!

Social Justice

Our arms and aim are a little better with regular throwing practice. Rock throwing is a very useful skill. One uses it to seek revenge at night, knock down yummy fruit, keep a creepy dog away, crush a tarantula (sorry, just can’t put up with them watching me from inches away while using the latrine) and regularly amuse youngsters with our (my) ineptness.

On another note, we heard an anecdote about how the culture of the community has changed since kids started school at Lekol Komunite Matenwa. A neighboring family would discipline their small children by throwing rocks at them, which unfortunately wasn’t uncommon. After her kids have been going to school for several years, she now brags how if her daughters don’t go to the market to buy the soap she needs, she leaves just their laundry unwashed. Natural consequences and non-physical punishment are the norm here now. Parents and students learn and teach about human rights here in Matenwa, and very specifically that children have the same rights as adults. Social justice is intrinsic in everything this school community does.

Swimming Superstition and Fact

On our way to Grand Sous, we would dutifully greet every passerby and household with the requisite, singsong, BONJOU! When folks stopped to talk to us and found out we were going to Grand Sous, they would issue dire warnings, tell us their heads hurt and hearts would stop if we went on, because they would be worried sick about us. “Only put your feet in, please!” urged the well-meaning grannies. “The water is deeper than the banyan trees high” “The current is strong like hurricane!” protested the old uncles. Several months ago, a boy died there, struck by another high jumping youth who cracked his head open, horribly, their heads hit under the murky water. The local superstition that it was somehow cursed and our extreme caution, absolutely no current, coupled with our ability to swim well, created a place where we had a little paradise, mostly to ourselves.

Valencia and friends

Valencia, Libne’s thirteen year old sister is Matenwa’s ‘foutbal’ star. Like many girls of Matenwa, she participates in the daily foutbal games and practices but she is the only girl to play with the teenage boys’ team. She is ferociously outstanding. As we went to market with her one day she explained all the trees we passed and plants, opening up a whole new scenery to us. We went swimming with her, which was a riot, as she didn’t know how to swim but was very, very eager to learn. There is a saying here that Haitians don’t swim if they can’t see the bottom. Most people have never swum before. Of course, Valencia gleefully plunged in (with a life jacket) and within the hour was trying to dive. When she swam at you or laughed, she did it powerfully and with abandon!

More Grand Sous

On our way to Grand Sous, we would dutifully greet every passerby and household with the requisite, singsong, BONJOU! When folks stopped to talk to us and found out we were going to Grand Sous, they would issue dire warnings, tell us their heads hurt and hearts would stop if we went on, because they would be worried sick about us. “Only put your feet in, please!” urged the well-meaning grannies. “The water is deeper than the banyan trees high” “The current is strong like hurricane!” protested the old uncles. Several months ago, a boy died there, struck by another high jumping youth who cracked his head open, horribly, their heads hit under the murky water. The local superstition that it was somehow cursed and our extreme caution, absolutely no current, coupled with our ability to swim well, created a place where we had a little paradise, mostly to ourselves.