ode to mom

Hers and Mine (Worn) (2020-2023)

by: Anna Luth

about the artist:

My name is Anna Luth, I am an able-bodied emerging interdisciplinary artist, musician, and cultural worker. I am of European descent living in New Westminster, the stolen ancestral and traditional lands of the Qayqayt Nations and many Coast Salish peoples. My practice is fueled by my love of material exploration, and I often work across expanded ceramics, performance, and installation. Making is a physical and performative experience for me; I am fully engaged in the process and my gestures are embedded in the work.

Originally from Alberta, I am the 2017 recipient of the Alberta Foundation for the Arts’ Queens Golden Jubilee Scholarship. I have a BFA from Emily Carr University of Art + Design (2020). I have been working as a curatorial assistant for the past three years and developing my practice on the side.

about the artwork:

oil and acrylic on canvas, MDF panel and shelf, ceramic, jeans | 29”*35”*10.5”

I moved here from Alberta where I was born and raised 5 years ago. Being away from family was particularly difficult during the pandemic when distance felt magnified and time distorted. During that time, my mother’s mother became really ill. My grandma and I were really close, so it was difficult to know she was living out her final months in a hospice and I couldn’t say goodbye. My mom would visit my grandma everyday, and I felt like I was grieving vicariously through her. It was a slow going, and I experienced a sensation of unravelling, at times feeling tightly wound, and other moments like I have to let go. This piece became a meditation on grief as I processed my emotions.

I chose to cut up a pair of jeans my mom gave me as hand-me-downs, which I had worn out with use. This material symbolizes the connection we share, and the many strengths and weaknesses that were passed down from my grandma to my mom, and my mom to me. By positioning the spool in the centre of a canvas, the frame becomes a window or portal, the spoon on the precipice of sadness with a backdrop of layered grid lines that offer an imperfect container.