'Upcycling' artists turn the chucked into the charming

By Ani S. Delmont
North Forty News

Ah, the thrill of the hunt. A bargain here, an indulgence there, not to mention countless humdrum purchases, all of which add up to avalanching top shelves and chubby garbage bags on the curb. Stuff fills a need for a day or a decade, then gets tossed. A moth-nibbled sweater. Empty pet-food bags. Dusty bottle caps. Old notebooks. All useless.

Not to a handful of local artists who "upcycle." That's the buzzword for turning trash into higher-value items, rather than breaking it down into lesser quality products, the fate of most recycled goods. With a twirl of inventiveness, they reincarnate rejected ephemera into eye-catching, usable art that spurns the landfill and wins back buyers' hearts, from bottle-cap jewelry to silverware wind chimes.

Upcycling has become so popular as to merit annual shows in art meccas like Santa Fe for the past 12 years. Now the trend is moving to Fort Collins, where even in a recession, art lovers are spending upward of $100 for a child's sweater made of recycled fibers.

"There's a new market out there, a lucrative market," said Kathy Hartmeister, a Rist Canyon resident and full-time fiber artist recently showcased at the Bellvue Store. "People are getting a kick out of this go-go green thing."

After 30 years' selling enough of her handmade knits to make a living, Hartmeister threw herself into crafting clothing, hats and bags out of discarded sweaters. The decision was partly environmental, partly good business, after the jackets she had designed from her grandmother's fabric flour sacks "turned out to be huge sellers."

Upcycling knits means cutting up old ones, shrinking and combining them with other fabric scraps, trim and all, to make original designs. A sweater like this "becomes a family heirloom or a funky fashion statement," she said. "It's like making a patchwork quilt in the old days. Everything is utilized."

While she's laying out less money for raw materials these days, she has to expend more time on each piece, as it entails reconfiguring already-shaped items.

It's worth the extra effort, she said. Her sweaters fetch as much as $600. More importantly, they convey her love for the natural world.

"I'm not so much interested in profits but in creating something that will endure," Hartmeister said. "It's a disposable world and that's really a shame. So much is purchased because people don't use their imaginations."

A mixture of nostalgia and inventiveness binds together Becky Holly's recycled journals, crafted from old notebooks, stationery, books, playing cards, board-game money, ledger paper, while-you-were-out pads, Braille pages, even farm records.

"I've always been obsessed with paper," she said.

Holly sifts through piles of paper at nearby thrift stores and the recycling center several times a week. She cuts them up and sandwiches the scraps between old game boards and vintage photographs.

"It's kind of interesting, a little glimpse of other people's lives," she explained. "I make up little stories about them. I make people remember things they've forgotten, games they played as a kid, or think what it would be like to be blind."

Hartmeister has teamed up with "recycled art queen" Karen Canino. An art teacher for 19 years, Canino opened Screen Door Studios three years ago in a house near the Lincoln Center. Beside a walkway of reused marble countertops, the shop retails the work of a dozen artists, a third of whom dip into the dumpster for inspiration.

Cited by several artists as a role model, Canino was herself influenced by the ingenuity she saw among the people of Kenya.

"They use things different ways," said the six-time visitor to Africa. "They don't waste anything."

African-beaded human figures made from old zippers dangle from Canino's earrings, bracelets and necklaces. Her sweaters boast African scenery as well as Hartmeister's deft sewing. Her bottle-cap jewelry, on the other hand, pays tribute to her grandfather-in-law. The vintage matchbook covers he collected adorn the old bottle caps in nostalgic necklaces that go for $38.

And then there's her raincoat pieced together from empty pet food bags "for when it's raining cats and dogs," she explained. "I love to take things and give them a different purpose."

Silver jewelry artist Julia Senesac said Canino's inventiveness prompted her to turn old silverware, garden implements and notebook spirals into the wind chimes she sells at the shop.

The owner of a planning and promotion company, Senesac wants to bring a recycled art show to Fort Collins.

"It would be great for us and great for the viewing public," she said.

Fellow artist Maggie Kunze agreed. She has been plundering thrift shops and antique dealers for 30 years to come up with her "farkle" art – a mixture of "fun" and "sparkle."

Kunze left a job managing a nursery to throw herself into the market fray as full-time artist. Her workshop is a rainbow-colored 1955 school bus.

"The whole recycled art portion of [the market] is up and coming, the past four, five years," she said. "People appreciate something that's art, that's not going to the landfill."

She said people are always leaving bags of grandma's old jewelry and various odds and ends on her porch, knowing she'll turn them into "bling" – maybe encrusted garden art or a fixture in a flashy shrine.

"I love to see something old repurposed, given a new life and a new soul," Kunze said.

A visitor to the shop praises the artists' creativity as "mind-blowing" and "unbridled."

"What these ladies do is so wonderful," effused Kathy Bower. "I love what they come up with. It makes me want to get into it."

Given the number of like-minded folks, she said Fort Collins is ready for a recycled art revolution. "People would love to see a recycled art fashion show," she said. "Santa Fe and Fort Collins have a lot of similarities."