Finding form in chaos
November 12, 2008
You won’t find it on Google Maps.
Nonetheless, there is a place — philosophically speaking — where the Tao of art intersects the will of the artist. If you’re having trouble finding it, look for Kelvy Bird. She has a corner studio there.
Although technically undefinable by definition, the Tao is often described as a universal way, flow or force. For highbrow people such as myself, the movie Caddyshack provides an excellent insight: “Na na na na nah….Be the ball, Danny.”
Not surprisingly, the Somerville artist describes her work as “the space where you’re connecting to something other than yourself.”
Whether working with pencil on paper or gouache on panel, Kelvy likes to explore that space that contains both her own will as an artist, as well as those lines that simply want to be drawn. It’s a process of “noticing my alignment with the greater field, and when I’m separated from it,” Kelvy said. “Each state is appropriate at different times.”
Speaking of the “dance of the line,” Kelvy said, “that’s the finest place — which strokes are determined and which just happen.”
Her explanation shines some clarity on work that, at first glance, strikes the viewer as highly abstract. Kelvy’s Pulses series (gouache on panel) and Beats series (gouache on paper) reveal layers of spontaneity, organic growth and finally form. And while the paintings show both patterns and growth that are seemingly of their own accord, you can also see Kelvy’s touch — right down to her fingerprints seen in the Beats series.
To walk that line between the will of the art and her own designs, Kelvy sets parameters. When a doodle from her journal makes the jump to something more, Kelvy quickly determines the medium and size, for example. Without some kind of boundaries, her art process could lead to work sprawling beyond manageability.
And then she creates, using the debut piece in a series as a springboard to explore other palette options and textures.
This knack for extracting form from abstract origins has served Kelvy not only in her art, but also the business world. In her work as a graphic facilitator, Kelvy gives visual life to the concepts, ideas and overarching themes spawned in meetings.
She maps, plots and illustrates the flow (there’s that word again) of the meeting in real time. At the end of the meeting, her work is intended to show participants the ground they’ve covered, as well as possible future paths.
“I almost never sleep the night before (doing one of these meetings). There is a performance element to it,” she said. “My main concern is that I won’t be listening accurately.”
One key is to understand what the group is striving for, she said.
“I really want to be able to hear the undercurrents,” Kelvy said. “You’re gifted with an opportunity to translate the invisible into the visible.”
It’s a fitting task for an artist who finds the form in chaos.
FIRST TIME
As her work demonstrates, Kelvy has an eye for textures. In this case, she liked the look of some wet stones. She was 5 or 6 years old, and the stones — found at the bottom of an outdoor shower — became the focus of her first art photo. She still has the image, tucked away in an album.
WORST TIME
Sometimes you get volunteered when you don’t really want to be. For Kelvy, it happened in college when a teacher wanted to demonstrate the “erasing” portion of the lithography lesson. Kelvy had been drawing on a stone, and was not particularly eager to lose what she had created. Her teacher, however, had other ideas, and wiped her stone’s surface clean. Ever the Taoist, Kelvy noted, “you realize that, if you’re a creative person, you can create it again.”

