In my works on paper, I approach each growing thing with equal importance regardless of whether it is a weed, rare species, wildflower, or cultivated flower. I combine several species fused into single compositions, often to the point where the exact plants depicted are open to interpretation. I create unique blue and white cyanotype prints onto sheets of cotton paper and then I paint in countless layers of watercolor, gouache and ink. The cyan imagery becomes the underpainting or grisaille and then I meticulously paint the exposed watercolor paper with a multitude of layers of color. I am most interested in creating objects that feel both beautiful and mysteriousI want each painting to be familiar yet slightly outside of time.
These works will always symbolize resilience to me. I want the content of the work to be a powerful experience. Not only because of the historical moment that they were made, but the process speaks to a kind of gutting and reconstituting. There's an object, then a ghost of the object, and then the reassertion of the object. But the final thing isn't the object, it can't be, just a record of my will to bring it back. And somehow, that will is more satisfying, more encouraging, than had I magically been able to bring the original object back. It is deeply satisfying to take something that is ephemeral and represent it in a way that can live on forever.
In the summer of 2015, I moved from Brooklyn to a hundred-year-old house in Hudson Valley, along with my husband, Sean Hemmerle. Four weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter, Magnolia. Instead of a baptism for the baby, we organized a tree planting ceremony and positioned a magnolia tree in our front yard, including the placenta as fertilizer. This small act was the beginning of my intimate connection to plants growing in our yard. After the birth of our son August in 2018, we had a similar ceremony with a dogwood tree in our back yard.
Cyanotype Process:
Cyanotype is a camera-less printing process invented in 1842 by scientist and astronomer, Sir John Hirschel, which produces a cyan-blue print when a chemistry-coated surface is exposed to sunlight. The first artist (who was also a botanist) to use this process was Anna Atkins. I manipulate physical impressions of plants grown locally in my Hudson Valley garden and other nearby areas, along with intricately cutout photographic negatives. Each selected flower/plant is preserved through a pressing process in which I dissect and shape each form—akin to a specimen from a natural history museum—and then lay everything out in massive flat files in my attic studio. Given that sunlight starts the exposure process with cyanotype chemistry, I carefully arrange elaborate compositions at night and utilize long exposures under natural or UV light to create the final prints. Each cyanotype is unique and cannot be replicated in the way I work.
Nocturnal Nature:
Nocturnal Nature is a body of work by artist Julia Whitney Barnes that pairs the architectural splendor of the Cesar Pelli-designed windows and atrium of Brookfield Place’s Winter Garden, with inspiration from the space’s interior grove of palm trees, which was designed by Diana Balmori, the late wife of Cesar Pelli. Whitney Barnes’ work—exhibited on the first floor of Brookfield Place, steps from the Winter Garden—is composed of a series of framed works on paper that combine watercolor and gouache paintings on cyanotype printed watercolor paper. The imagery depicts botanical arrangements with geometric patterns and the property’s grand atrium windows revealing various skies alluding to different seasons and times of day. The Washington robusta palm trees planted in the Winter Garden appear to grow right out of the floor, and similarly, Whitney Barnes’ botanicals burst from the implied floor patterns in her artwork. Particularly during these cold winter months, Whitney Barnes’ incorporation of natural elements within her work—sun, flowers, plants, water, and air— brings the promise of spring to this interior hallway, as well as a sense of growth and transformation.
Through her use of cyanotype, Whitney Barnes manipulates physical impressions of plants grown locally in her Hudson Valley home garden, and other nearby areas, along with intricately cutout photographic negatives. Each selected flower is preserved through a pressing process in which the artist dissects and shapes each form—akin to a specimen from a natural history museum—and then lays everything out in massive flat files in her attic studio. Given that sunlight starts the exposure process with cyanotype chemistry, the artist carefully arranges elaborate compositions at night and utilizes long exposures under natural or UV light to create the final prints. The digital renderings of the Winter Garden atrium windows and floor that Whitney Barnes designed, were based on an image taken by her husband and professional photographer, Sean Hemmerle. After creating a multi-part negative based on the glazing and metal supports of the atrium’s architecture, Whitney Barnes meticulously painted the exposed watercolor paper with multiple layers of watercolor and gouache. Each cyanotype is created by the power of light, inspiring viewers to look at these very recognizable images in new and different ways.
Borrowed Vessels/Charles Booth:
Julia Whitney Barnes creates paintings and site-specific installations in a variety of public and private venues. Her maximalist work is inspired by richly patterned buildings observed firsthand, as well as through images and videos she collects or takes herself. Her boldly colored paintings are based on a variety of source images that are conjoined into unusual interiors and landscapes. Other influences include patterned surfaces from around the world: stained-glass windows, traditional quilts, and paintings from every time period. Her maternal grandmother was a quilter, as were several women generations before her, and Whitney Barnes grew up looking at their handmade quilts. Raised by a UCC minister, she spent time playing in churches throughout her childhood and as an adult continues to seek a variety of religious and secular buildings adorned with stained glass.
The inspiration for this series sparked from experiencing the stained glass windows at the Brooklyn Historical Society, while working on a public art commission nearby. Charles Booth, a largely unknown stained glass artist of the Victorian era, created those windows. Whitney Barnes’ deep interest in history brings attention to Booth’s work while imagining how other windows may have once appeared and existed. The Jefferson Market branch of the New York Public Library in lower Manhattan also has exquisite examples of Booth’s windows throughout the landmarked brick building. Additionally, Whitney Barnes’ studied Booth’s remaining windows at three churches: Grace Church, Calvary Church, and Trinity Church, all in Manhattan.
The Brooklyn Historical Society building, designed by George Post in 1878-80, was originally called the Long Island Historical Society. It was one of the earliest buildings in the area to use terra cotta trim. About 90% of George Post’s impressive structures around New York City were demolished to make way for modern skyscrapers. The New York Stock Exchange is one of Post’s most famous structures left intact. A plaque on the exterior of the Jefferson Mark New York Public Library, originally the Jefferson Courthouse building, states “This building, designed along Victorian Gothic Lines by Vaux & Withers, was constructed in 1876 and served as a women’s court until 1932. Of particular interest are its turrets, traceried windows, ironwork and sculpture.” Booth’s windows for the Jefferson Courthouse appear to incorporate imagery that resembles female anatomy, which is fitting.
Charles Booth (1844-1893)
Born in Liverpool, England, he was first listed in the NYC directories as “stainer” (stained glass artist) in the 1875-76 publication. He lived in Orange, NJ and had workshops at 166 Fifth Avenue and then 47 Lafayette Place in Manhattan. Booth’s time in NYC was quite brief as he returned to London, England in 1880 to take over George Edward Cook’s studio while still maintaining a NYC branch of his operations. Cook was best known as a painter, primarily working in stained glass during the 1870s with an emphasis of elements in a Japanese style. Booth was part of the Aesthetic Movement and considered himself to be an ornamentalist working in an Anglo-Japanese style that was popularized in the 1870s by Charles Dresser. His style incorporated some recognizable Modern Gothic motifs and geometricized plant forms. Although Booth died in 1893, the last listing for his studio in NYC was 1905/06. According to his will, made in 1884, Booth desired “that his business be carried on in England and America,” and thus the workshop continued to operate under his name even after his death. How fitting that over 125 years after his passing, his legacy will be reinvigorated with a new creation in his honor.