[Art_beyond_sight_theory_and_research] articles artists, maps

[lisa]

Hi,
Articles about artist, photographers, painters, photographers. A link to 
a online geography tool and link to info about an article The 
Target-Route Map. And link to Randolph Huebshch's site


Best,
Lisa

Randolph Huebshch's  site 
http://www.randhuebsch.com/



map
http://www.communitynewswire.press.net/article.jsp?id=317246

xcerpt
Mapping our World was designed for Oxfam by Complete Control and can be 
used on interactive whiteboards, PCs and laptops. It includes captions 
and audio for text readers and fonts and colours suitable for visually 
impaired users.

The resource is available free online at 
www.oxfam.org.uk/coolplanet/mappingourworld
article

http://informedesign.umn.edu/Rs_detail.aspx?rsId=1838
The Target-Route Map: Evaluating Its Usability for Visually Impaired Persons

article
http://www.shanghaidaily.com/art/2006/06/01/281422/Seen_through_quite_different_eyes.htm

Seen through quite different eyes
Xu Qin
2006-06-01
"I never get angry when people challenge me to take a picture of them on 
the spot," said Tan Li, a 33-year-old blind photographer from Yangzhou 
of Jiangsu Province, during a recent interview with CCTV. "Because I am 
doing something that I am not supposed to be able to do."

Tan was eight when he was blinded in an accident. He grew up to be a 
blind massage doctor and ran a small massage clinic of his own in the 
city, a conventional way of living made by many people who are visually 
impaired.

Eight years ago, he met Zhang Xianchen, a freelance photographer based 
in Yangzhou, who came to Tan's clinic for massage treatment for his back 
pain. Greatly impressed by Tan's openness and readiness to learn, Zhang 
challenged him to have a try with a camera.

The idea of a blind guy taking photos really cracked Tan up. With a 
manual-focus camera given by Zhang, Tan asked his wife and daughter to 
take him out in the park on a Sunday afternoon.

That day he made eighteen "perfect" pictures out of the thirty-six when 
his first roll of film was developed, and the result gave him confidence.

"If you are blind, you have to be sharp enough to sense the things 
around, such as the echo of the sound and the warmth of the light," Tan 
said. "You have to be really willing to give yourself over to your 
imagination as you are working in another world."

In 2000, his picture "A trip to Yangzhou in March" won him an award of 
honor, while competing with other works of sighted photographers for the 
city's travel photo contest.

However, it wasn't until he attended the Sixth National Sitting 
Volleyball Games for disabled women, which were held in Yangzhou in 
2003, that he became dedicated to the business of "blind" photography.

"It was the second half of the match. The audience had left and no 
journalists and media photographers were left to cheer for the disabled 
players," Tan said. "Nobody actually cared about the result, but the 
thumps on the floor made by the women athletes when spiking really 
stirred my soul."

 From then on, Tan started to take pictures through the eye of his 
camera to express his ideas, his own experiences and his imagination. 
Articles in the clinic, and toys of his daughter, etc, all became the 
images of his pictures.

His work "It's me who bites a dog," which was self-photographed, gives 
the impression that he enjoys any challenge.

Tan said: "Some photo critics say I am the blind cat that happened to 
catch a lively mouse, and I want to show them the blind cat is truly 
doing well."

So what's next?

"A photo album through the eyes of the blind," Tan said seriously. "I 
can always see things that sighted people cannot see."

Through the eyes of the blind, Tan Li is influencing the way we sighted 
people see the world.



article

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002936680_blindpainter18m.html


He hasn't lost artist's eye



Ray Gerring, 79, works in his basement studio. He has been legally blind 
since 2004, and sometimes paints an inch away from the canvas. But he 
found a way — despite the depression caused by his impaired vision — to 
continue to pursue his lifelong love of painting.

,

"This Is a City," above, is one of Gerring's abstract paintings. He 
began working on abstracts a year ago.




Ray Gerring was an art instructor at Seattle Central Community College 
for 24 years.



Sitting in his home studio, Ray Gerring says he is invigorated by his 
art: "... it's like the paintings have this spirit."


His whole life had been about being an artist, and about teaching art to 
others. Then it all became a blur. Details of a scene disappeared, and 
outlines turned into grays.

In December 2004, Ray Gerring, 79, became legally blind.

Gerring had been a relatively healthy man in his retirement years, 
mentally and physically active.

With the loss of most of his sight, Gerring began a journey into depression.

There were the times when June, his wife of 58 years, would see him 
sitting with his head in his hands. There were the times he would cry. 
There were the times he'd get angry over something minor.

"It'd be something like knocking a glass of water over, and I couldn't 
even see to clean it up," Gerring said. "She had to clean it up.

"It'd just destroy me. I'd get so angry. I was like a crazy person."

In his retirement, he had been doing what he loved so much, which was to 
paint.

Over the years, along with his work as a commercial artist and 
advertising-agency art director and 24 years as an art instructor at 
Seattle Central Community College before retiring in 1988, he had always 
painted.

Then the ailments of age caught up with him.




It was on a spring day in 1994 that he woke up on a Saturday, opened his 
eyes and went into emotional shock.

"What my left eye saw was like some crazy stained-window mosaic, like 
shattered glass," he remembered.

Gerring got the diagnosis, and had to make adjustments for loss of depth 
perception, but he still could paint. Then, in December 2004, the same 
happened to his right eye. Gerring said he estimates his left-eye vision 
at 10 percent of what it used to be. His right eye is better, testing at 
20/400, but it still means he's legally blind.

He was prescribed antidepressants. "I didn't have the patience to take 
those drugs," he said. For a while, much of his day was spent sleeping.

But he always had emotional support from his wife, three grown children 
and friends.

Gerring suffers from central retinal vein occlusion — a blockage of 
circulation that drains blood from the retina — which occurs with much 
higher frequency in people over 65.

"It sends folks on an emotional roller-coaster ride," said Marcia 
Appleton, supervisor of social services for the Community Services for 
the Blind and Partially Sighted in Seattle.

But what happens, said Appleton, is that the creative pull "is so 
compelling that eventually it becomes stronger than the fears of 
uncertainty and lack of confidence."

In March 2005, Gerring happened to be in his studio when he picked up a 
jar of acrylic paint. He did some dabbing.

"Hey, I think that works as abstract painting," he thought to himself. 
The abstracts wouldn't require the fine detail of his earlier works.

Now he sometimes paints an inch away from the canvas, using everything 
from his fingertips to brushes to rags.

Last November, Gerring had a show at the Arthead Gallery in Wallingford. 
Three of his paintings were sold.

One of the gallery's owners, Bill Wikstrom, said of Gerring's work, 
"It's bold and bright and comes from somebody who understands color very 
well."

Gerring's paintings have been accepted by a committee that selected art 
for the Gallery in the Shoreline Center, with a two-month show to be 
scheduled for 2007.

Sometimes, Gerring still has to face the demons of depression. He then 
often goes to his art studio.

"You can feel something happening and my mood changes," he said. "I hope 
this doesn't sound corny, but it's like the paintings have this spirit."

excerpt article

http://www.columbusdispatch.com/features-story.php?story=dispatch/2006/04/19/20060419-B1-01.html

Chihuly started out blowing his own glass and might still be if it 
weren’t for a 1976 car accident that left him blind in one eye and 
lacking depth perception. Another accident that dislocated his shoulder 
meant he couldn’t hold the blowing pipe.

"Once I stepped back, I liked the view," he said, seeing the work from 
more angles and able to anticipate problems faster.

Chihuly said he’s more choreographer than dancer, more supervisor than 
participant, more director than actor.





article
http://www.floridatoday.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060426/LIFE/604260365/1005


Blind artists stir imagination

Unique perspective sparks interest at Art Vue Galerie


Focused on beauty. Bill Hahn, who is partially blind, takes photos and 
pairs them with poems he has written. Hahn, who also goes by the name 
Amuse, the blind poet, displays one of his 35mm cameras. He uses digital 
but prefers film. Tim Shortt, FLORIDA TODAY




See the artwork
You can see work by poet/photographer Bill Hahn and sculptor Todd Batt 
at Art Vue Galerie, 225 State Road 520, Cocoa Village, Cocoa. Hours are 
10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Mondays through Saturday and by appointment. Call 
637-2787 or visit www.artvuegalerie.com


Enlarge this image

Handy man. Blind sculptor Todd Batt of Titusville proudly shows one of 
his many sculptures, a dragon. Batt, who spends four to six hours a day 
making wire sculptures, works as a dishwasher at Cracker Barrel in 
Titusville. Kathleen Hinkel, FLORIDA TODAY



'Sighted by My Memory'
The perfect pitch of the cresting surf, a gull's sonata fills my ease 
Sounds ripple and fiddle the shore, I'm finding my harmony I never 
listened 'til I could not see . . . the ocean and its whisper The 
fragrance spun in a waterspout, nature's essence sheared to potpourri 
Winds ripple and fiddle the shore, I'm finding out how to breathe I 
never sighted 'til I could not see . . . the ocean and its wonder Sea 
salt clings to my sun baked skin, spiced with the sweat of the sea 
Scents ripple and fiddle the shore, I'm finding my ecstasy I never 
hungered 'til I could not see . . . the ocean and its flavor The 
soothing touch of the water's ebb, reaches my soul in my time of need 
Swells ripple and fiddle the shore, I'm finding my heart in me I never 
yearned 'til I could not see . . . the ocean and its pleasure A warm 
vista shimmers in scarlet sunrise, daybreak rekindles a dream plea 
Sights ripple and fiddle the shore, I'm finding my poetry I never saw 
'til I could not see, what the senses left me had in store Sighted by my 
memory . . . I'm finding so much more. -- Bill Hahn, aka Amuse, the 
blind poet



Although deaf, Beethoven composed music. Despite being deaf and mute, 
Marlee Matlin has made a career on stage and screen.

And two Brevard artists -- Todd Batt and Bill Hahn -- prove creating 
visual art belongs to even those who are blind.

Batt, a sculptor living in Titusville, and Hahn, a photographer and poet 
living in Rockledge, have work on view at Art Vue Galerie in Cocoa Village.

Gallerist Jan Moody said their work has been causing a positive stir 
among her patrons. The works sell from about $25 to $600.

"People are just incredulous," Moody said. "They cannot believe that 
somebody could do this without seeing it. We sell a lot of this."

Both were blinded by diabetic retinopathy, which leads to burst blood 
vessels behind the retina, eventually leading to scarring of the retina. 
The scarring in Batt has made him completely blind. Hahn's eyesight has 
become so compromised, he is nearly legally blind.

And, they say they don't mind being called inspirations to others.

Todd Batt

Batt, 42, always wanted to be an artist. Having grown up in Titusville, 
he was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes at age 7. He went to Tampa Tech 
art school for nearly three years, then moved back to Titusville to be 
near his parents when he began developing retinopathy.

He was 24 years old when he realized he couldn't read the street signs 
very well anymore. A year later, he was completely blind.

He went through treatments, including some trying to reattach his 
retinas, which had already been torn up by scar tissue.

Doctors told him treatment might allow him to perceive light and shadow, 
which he said sounded an awful lot like "being blind."

Finally, he decided he did not want to put anymore of his sighted life 
on hold and gave up on the treatments.

"My mom was a little bit upset with me," he said.

His mother, Doris, said she has never been upset with him, but was 
disappointed there wasn't anything she could do at the time.

"As a mother, you always think whatever your children's problems are, 
you have to fix them," she said. "And I couldn't fix them.

Batt spends his mornings cleaning pots and pans at the Cracker Barrel in 
Titusville. He said he's been told he does a better job of it than 
anyone else because he feels with his hands whether the pot is perfectly 
clean.

He goes home, listens to books on tape, or the television news and 
spends four to six hours a day making wire sculptures.

He began that to fight the boredom, he said. He hasn't been able to find 
a support group in Titusville for blind people his age. His only friends 
are his parents. He'd like to go water skiing again, but doesn't know 
anyone with a boat.

So art has become almost his entire life, his mother said.

Batt began working in wire sculpture when he was fooling around making a 
dragon with clay formed over a wire frame.

He covered the tail and hind legs with 5 pounds of clay, which cost $15. 
People told him the wire frame looked great.

"So I started doing the wire because the wire was a lot cheaper," he said.

All of his artwork, including a 5-foot-long sculpture of an alligator, 
is made of 16-gauge steel tie wire, about half the size of wire coat 
hangers.

In addition to wire, Batt uses needle-nose pliers, wire snips and 
channel lock pliers to make his creations.

But no gloves.

"I don't wear gloves at all," he said. "To me, that's like wearing a 
blindfold. I can't do that at Cracker Barrel. I guess there's the mind's 
eye and there's the eye in each of my fingers."

To prepare himself to work, Batt gets an image in his mind.

"I mostly try to figure out if I can do it in my mind first," he said. 
"If I can figure out how to put it together, the rest of it's just work, 
just doin.' "

He makes small and large items. When he used to enter shows, he made 
sure to bring his large work, like the 18-inch-by-21/2-foot-by-2-foot 
turtle.

"Mostly I make things that big because I've learned when you go to art 
shows, judges don't notice small things," he said. "If you make them 
big, you notice."

Bill Hahn

Although Batt had always wanted to be an artist, Hahn, 49, came to it 
after he developed diabetic retinopathy.

Hahn, who grew up on Merritt Island, was diagnosed with juvenile 
diabetes when he was 26, one week before his marriage that ended up 
lasting six years.

"I was always in very good shape, so I wasn't a poster child for 
diabetes," he said. "I was always fatigued. I went to the doctor. They 
sent me to the hospital that day, found out what I had and went straight 
to shots.

"They bring in an orange and a needle and said 'Here, practice, 'cause 
you're going to be doing this the rest of your life.' "

He began writing poetry in 1999. Because he was experiencing the 
bleeding and pressure behind his eyes, he could not go to Wisconsin to 
visit his grandmother as she lay dying of bone cancer.

Instead, he promised her he would fax her his writings.

The collection of writings turned into "The Window Box," a 
self-published book of poems. He also took the photographs and said 
working on photography helps him to see the world and record what he sees.

"I call it 'lyrical photography,' " he said. "I write a piece with a 
theme. I think of what kind of visual stimulation I see in my mind to 
add to it. I know where to go to get the picture that would drive the 
story. I already have an idea of what I'm looking at, and I try to 
recreate it."

He was encouraged to bring the work to Art Vue Galerie because of the 
positive response he has received from it. Hahn, who sells gym equipment 
and owns Home Fitness Warehouse in West Melbourne, had a poetry reading 
at Barnes and Noble Booksellers.

"It's tough," he said. "First of all, I'm a man. It's hard to read 
personal things out loud. To do it at Barnes and Noble where there are 
people looking for books is scary. I'm set up near the magazines and 
some guy's flipping through Guns and Ammo, and you're reading poetry."

Hahn needs assistance when he takes photographs. Although he can still 
drive, he needs someone else to be behind the wheel so he can survey the 
landscape.

He also needs help lugging the equipment and someone to lead him over 
unforgiving terrain. Even the beach can be difficult.

Hahn finds it difficult to work in bright light and difficult to 
manipulate his 35 mm and digital cameras.

"When I look through the lens, I have to refocus my focus when looking 
for compositions," he said. "I think of what would it look like when 
it's on the wall, the foreground, the background, points of interest 
within my picture."

He also finds it difficult to achieve depth of focus -- where all 
elements in a photographic image are in sharp focus -- because "my eyes 
aren't balanced."

Hahn currently is working on another book, "A Book With a View." He 
hopes to find a publisher for this one.

Regardless how he gets his work out to the public, he hopes people will 
find enjoyment in it and, yes, even some artistic inspiration.

"It comes from the heart," he said. "Everybody can do something like 
that. They shouldn't think they can't.

"The diabetes, in a round about way, has made me a better person. I 
don't take the days for granted. . . . It's made me an artist."



links - perhaps repeat

http://www.computeractive.co.uk/computeractive/news/2154210/tate-online-wins-accessibility

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/sports/3812826.html