D
O N N A L E I G H JA C K I N S
to the University of Georgia from The College of William and Mary to study art and be close to her beau, George Jackins, an engineering student at Georgia Tech. She was in Athens when Time magazine sent a reporter to observe how an art professor made students work in the dark. “He flipped up a slide and told us to sketch what we saw.” The students not only learned skills but also to trust their intuitive strengths. Jackins worked feverishly from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., catching up with studio and lecture classes. She learned to rely upon her artistic self, taking in the world through the wide-open lenses of her opalescent green eyes. While UGA offered serious art credentials — “in the art world, UGA drew respect” — she says, Jackins moved beyond the serious to find her signature style. Jackins produces art forms incorporating paper, fabric and other media from her Birmingham, Alabama, studio. She is a member of the Graduate Education Advancement Board, contributing the broad perspective of a working artist. Serendipity and scope underpins her artistic manifesto. “It’s too tragic to outgrow magic,” she writes. Jackins’ work nets honors in juried shows across the nation; she says she has been in too many shows to count, “more so in museums in the southeast, but also in other places.” As a result of her innovation in multi-media, the honors have accumulated. Jackins has been
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invited to the White House to present her work with other national artists. She has exhibited in Japan. She was asked to co-design a children’s gallery for the Birmingham Museum of Art. Jackins continuously conducts art programs at schools and speaks to organizations about art and creativity while producing her own work. “You have to step beyond what’s commercial,” she says. “But that’s a very hard corner to turn. It’s very hard to do it, but I have done it.” Her current work includes fantasy art quilts that “deal with magic,” intricate fabric art books painted with Jackins’ original verse, and paper making and collage forms. These are not grandmotherly quilts: One depicts a golf course. Another features a genie with a wicked grin. Jackins produces eight to 10 quilts each year. It is perhaps Jackins herself that is the most artful creation, still reveling in the very magic of art making. Since the age of 10 when given her first set of oils, Jackins applied a fresh perspective. “I painted a hobo sitting on a tombstone eating a hamburger,” she says, laughing. “I still have that painting.” She describes a transition from drawing, painting and paper making to devising new art forms inside her basement studio. These days, Jackins dresses expressively, too, preferring a brilliant palette. “I was in a white period for a long time,” she says. “I made paper ‘quilts’ that were all white.” And just like that—she snaps her finger—
Jackins stopped.Too much commercial success gave her pause; she does not intend to become formulaic. Rubber chickens, playhouses, hand-painted T-shirts glommed with fantastical designs, spools of ribbon, pots of paint, post-it notes and textiles spill out of bins carefully arranged along the studio’s walls. Bits of plastic, sequins, buttons or a spray of feathers wind up being incorporated into a new creation. “One year, one of my teachers said, ‘When are you going to get serious?’” Jackins reveals. It was a question that nearly broke the magic spell pervading her art. She did not work for two years. Finally, Jackins had an epiphany. She would not get serious.
“I always say that art ought to make you smile.” Jackins teases recognition and connection between the fanciful and the pragmatic. Quilts are festooned with everything from a spoof of Martha Stewart swinging a candelabrum and a wine bottle to ephemeral mermaids. Jackins
Graduate School Magazine
FALL 2006
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