Artist in residence finds comfort in woodworking

At the top of the Humanities building, the wood studios seem like part shed, part mad scientist lab. Long, thin scrolls of wood strips hang from the ceiling; the cast iron inner frame of a baby grand piano leans near a rocking chair made from the instrument’s strings and legs.

Between the industrial sanders and drill presses, one of Katie Hudnall’s test pieces rises from the floor on spidery legs. Open the door to a small cabinet, perched tenuously at eye level, and the wooden skeleton of an umbrella unfurls above: a study in fragility, symbiosis and protection.

As the Windgate Wood Artist in Residence, Hudnall is winding down a semester of working alongside student woodworkers. With no formal teaching responsibilities, her time here has provided not only an uninterrupted period for her own work but a chance for the students around her to see the life and process of a working artist up close.

Hudnall’s show, “An Indirect Path,” marks the culmination of her residency, the first of six planned residencies within the next few years. The show runs through Friday, Dec. 11, at the Art Lofts, 111 N. Frances St.

Hailing from rural Virginia, Hudnall creates functional (and not-so-functional) furniture and wood sculptures, usually from found objects. Drawing inspiration from vernacular architecture and exposed construction, she especially finds comfort in used, functional objects.

Wood attracts her not just for its ubiquity and ease of use but for its ability to transmit an object’s history. Plain or fancy, a wooden piece bears the imprint of the people who have used it.

“People see old wooden things and have an instant recognition that this has been handled by a human being,” says Hudnall. “Even if it’s just a kitchen table, that surface that’s been dented a gajillion times, there’s just this amazing history. The surface takes that in.”

Never wanting for materials, Hudnall arrived in Madison with two bundles of centuries-old lath rescued from a Richmond building site. She and her friends, true to the spirit of artistic collaboration, have stayed on the lookout for materials poking out of local dumpsters. Other potential supplies include oak left over from a previous piece done by visiting artist Forrest Dickey, itself reclaimed from a barn on Dickey’s parents’ property.

Tom Loeser, head of the wood program and chair of the Art Department, had seen the impact that visiting artists brought to his program. Beyond workshops and critiques, he wanted to show how students could take the information learned in a formal program and translate it to life as a working artist.

“I was looking for people that were still somewhat fresh in the field, but still having the biggest impact — fresh ideas, different perspectives, especially different from my peer group,” says Loeser. “I tried to plug into what I thought were the most exciting people in the next generation.”

He describes Hudnall’s presence as an influential extra layer to the program.

“One of the things I’m hoping for, and I suspect, is that people don’t realize how much they’re learning from her. It’s like a little energy zone over there in the corner.”

Hudnall and Loeser, with other current and prospective graduate students, connected at meetings of the Furniture Society. A graduate of Virginia Commonwealth University’s MFA program, Hudnall spent the last few years sneaking studio time at night while working as a cabinetmaker by day.

For Hudnall, the residency came at just the right time. As the economy slowed, building work dried up. But because of this and other residencies, she has supported herself as a full-time artist since February.

Still, the residency brings an added degree of freedom. Accustomed to structuring her limited time after work, Hudnall continued to carefully restrict her time when her art became self-supporting. Because her work had to pay the bills, she often focused on less experimental pieces, or smaller works that were more accessible and easier to send to shows.

“Since I got out of school in 2005, I’ve never built anything without a plan in mind,” says Hudnall. “I’d had such limited studio time that any work had to be toward a piece that I knew was going to be a winner. One of the really sweet things about having four solid months to just ‘make’ constantly is that I can create a scary thing and say, ‘Maybe it’s not good, maybe it is good.’ I get to build it first and then decide.”

In addition to her current show, Hudnall has presented at the art colloquium and participated in individual critiques with graduate students, both inside and outside the wood program. Because of the residency’s extended yet temporary length, she finds herself perfectly poised to relate to the students. Those working around her can trust her for an honest opinion, yet not worry about her impact on a grade or portfolio requirement.

“I have nothing to lose,” says Hudnall. “I’m leaving in December, and none of these people are my students, so I cart my stuff out — most of them are on wheels — and I say, ‘Is this working?’ and they’ll be a soundboard,” she says. “Now they’ve started to come back and do the same thing with me. I think people were hesitant to do that at first, but now it’s starting to move.”

Loeser is thrilled with the residency’s success. After Hudnall’s success as the program’s guinea pig, he and his colleagues eagerly anticipate the next resident in the spring.

“It’s exactly the way I envisioned it,” says Loeser. “It’s simple. The mandate to the resident is very straightforward, and she’s not pulled in multiple directions. It’s working so perfectly.”

Conversely, Hudnall appreciates being in the right place at the right time.

“Tom’s saying, ‘Here’s something I can do to further her career, and if she goes out and does better than she does now, that reflects on my program.’ We both seem to be getting great things out of the residency,” she says. “Maybe I’m getting more right now, but hopefully I’ll be able to do something for the wood program down the line. Because it’s a great program: great people, great spaces, great tools.”

Hudnall makes the most of her place in the studio. She fills every space in her corner, from the old lath stacked under a bench to the tiny spindly tables tucked between the ceiling beams after completion. Scrawled notes on possible shapes and combinations are tacked to the wall between detailed schematics and Vitruvian pencil sketches.

Near the door, a makeshift score sheet bears a single, triumphant entry: “Katie Hudnall: 1. Art: 0.”