Art in your cupboard: Fargo potter trades cups for stories
It started a few years ago with a cactus-shaped plastic martini glass in Michael Strand's kitchen cabinet. It was a glass with memories.
"I had never used it, but I kept it," said Strand, a potter from Fargo. "The reason that I kept it was a friend of mine was moving away and it was a dinner and it was just one of those memento things, right?"
And it got him thinking: Don't lots of people hang onto objects they don't use, because of what they mean?
The idea became a project. Strand began making cups and putting them on display. Anyone can bring a cup to trade, but they also have to bring its story.
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A simple one-page form collects the stories. Each person uses one word to describe what the cup means, and then writes a paragraph explaining why they're trading the cup. Most are collected at galleries, a few have arrived by mail.
"I think actually I make pots to collect stories," said Strand as he hunched over his pottery wheel in his studio at North Dakota State University, where he's head of the visual arts department. Cold sunlight streamed through the windows during a recent visit as he made basic clay cups, each shaped just a bit different.
I'm one of the few artists who when my work leaves the museum the work becomes more interesting," he said. "The replacements, for me, become far more fascinating."
Strand started his misfit liberation project thinking he would collect whimsical items. But at his first show in Fargo two years ago, an ex-convict traded in a large plastic mug engraved with his name and inmate number.
"And the story that he wrote was really beautiful. That he'd used this cup for three years in prison and used it for two years out of prison, and this was his opportunity to move on."
Strand realized what he'd created wasn't really about the cups. His art helped people share their stories.
A trip to Estonia for an exhibition led to another prized cup. The northern European country was once part of the Soviet Union.
"To describe this object, I would say it's a milquetoast-colored tan, very non-descript object. And there's a reason for that. This was the last Soviet-issued cup."
The cup was given to him by an Estonian woman in her 80s.
"I was on 'Good Morning, Estonia,' which I didn't know existed, and she heard about it, and she said I know the cup I have," he recalled. "So she brought this cup with her and it was a really emotional thing for her."
Strand says wherever he takes his liberation cups, the same themes emerge in stories. Broken relationships, loss, love, friendship, and a healthy dose of whimsy.
Another cup collected in Estonia is covered inside and out with fake feathers and pink bows.
"Completely unusable and absolutely ridiculous," he said. "It's sort of white elephant cubed, right? It's like so bad it's good. This is one of my prized possessions now."
The owners said the cup simply "brought a lot of laughter to their life over the past 10 years and they hope that it does the same as part of this collection."
Strand's idea has grown into a collection of nearly 500 cups and stories. His goal is for 1,000 misfit cups from all seven continents by the middle of 2016. When he hits that goal, he plans for a large exhibition of liberated cups.
He was recently awarded a two-year Bush Foundation fellowship, which allows him more time and money to travel.
The cups often come from people who've never been in an art gallery, but are intrigued by the project and have a story to share. There was a gallery in Houston where dozens of people rushed to fill out forms and jostled for position to exchange cups.
"This was like a little bit of Black Friday combined with an art opening, which I love, man," he said. "I'm like, you know, this is the kind of energy we can have at an art opening. It doesn't have to be people cautiously walking around being quiet and contemplative."
As he turns out cup after cup on his potter's wheel, Strand thinks about the design, but also the stories his work now represents.
"It's changed the way I make objects," he said. "I used to make things that were far flashier or more robust color and more intensity. Now I'm trying to make an object that listens more effectively and doesn't just have an opinion."
