Dakotah Rose Lemme blends faith and truth into the storytelling sculptures that adorn the land around her country home.
By Brandon Evans | Published Sunday, November 22, 2009
Driving down a rural road dusty as a chalkboard, still figures appear in a grove. Sculptures, round and organic in form, grace the green grass beneath a gathering of pecan trees. Fall has faded the leaves. A narrow and shallow creek winds through the scene like a serpent.
Dakotah Rose Lemme, a spiritual artist, fuses disparate realms. Her art connects the earth and the sky, the body and the spirit. This grove is her garden. These sculptures are her fruit.
A gray spire spirals from the earth like a flame. The nearly 12-foot piece points to the sky, the infinite.
"This is called 'Essence,'" Lemme said. "It symbolizes the spirit part of us. It's the part that carries on after we die. God breathed life into us, and he inhales it back."
Lemme walks comfortably through her wooded patch off a Wise County road called Lionspaw Court, in the Allison area. Her blue eyes beam as bright as the sky. Her smile eases the most anxious personality. Her laugh echoes in the branches. She is a teacher, philosopher, artist, counselor and mother.
She strolls from statue to statue, bringing each sculpture to life with a story.
"Jesus spoke in parables," Lemme said. "The pieces of art are parables."
The pieces teach lessons; they also tell her story.
One sculpture is called "Heaven's Tear." The smooth tear-shaped work was crafted in the memory of Abraham and Sarah. They were Lemme's children. They both died within two days of their birth.
"The tear is because we are the ones left to suffer in their absence. It's crying for us."
Between places
The shoreline played a significant role in ancient Celtic Ireland. The druids believed it served as a bridge between two realms, earth and wave, solid and fluid. It was a "between" place. Lemme is like one of those "between" places. She is a vibrant bridge between art and spirituality, orthodoxy and academia.
Lemme grew up in South Dakota in a Lutheran home. She dealt with poverty and an alcoholic father, but from adversity emerges strength.
She earned a bachelor's of science in education from Dakota State University. Years later she earned graduate degrees in art and counseling from Texas Woman's University and Dallas Baptist University, respectively. But her strong faith caused her professors and peers constant consternation.
She allowed her faith to guide and inspire her artwork. It was perceived as a nuisance in her department. But she insisted that her art represent something greater than herself.
"If art doesn't mean anything, then it's just noise," Lemme said.
At the same time, her holistic view of Christianity and artistic penchant failed to align with the thinking of most churches.
"I'm 100 percent Christian to the bone," she said. "But I don't fit into the church. I don't think you have to go to church to worship God."
Lemme goes on to paraphrase Matthew 18:20.
"Where there are two or more gathered, God is in the midst."
Just as her faith didn't meld into the university's mode of thought, her artistic expression doesn't always mesh with the faithful.
Another intriguing piece in the grove is "Trinity." Under cursory inspection, the oval ring appears to have three sides. But a patient eye reveals the three sides are one.
"It teaches the oneness of the Trinity," Lemme said. "These pieces require thinking. They require reflection.
"The connection with God is made through quiet time."
Metamorphosis
A giant cocoon rises from the ground. From within the pod emerges a woman, clean and fresh. The piece is called "Rebirth."
When a caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon and undergoes a transformation from worm to butterfly, a miraculous event occurs. The little creature becomes an entirely new being, but it still retains some of its original being, albeit simply strings of genetic material.
"There are points in our life where we have to move on and become something new," Lemme said.
But part of us will remain the same, even though we change. Lemme underwent a similar metamorphosis in her own life.
"I started studying art as a child," Lemme said. "But I grew up poor. Art wasn't practical. Why did I want to be a starving artist?"
So Lemme entered the business world. And she was successful, but she began to feel unfulfilled. At the same time her marriage started breaking apart.
"I hated getting up in the morning," she said. "I was miserable. I heard you need to give your life to God. So I threw it at him. I said, 'Here. You can have it.' But he took it. At that point the art started making sense. He instructed me to use the art to help people.
"When you have a gift, it's your responsibility to use it," she said. "You need to use God's gift. If I gave you the best car in the world, what if you just locked it in the garage and never drove it? It would be an insult."
Lemme's pieces not only illustrate Christian morals and lessons, they also tell Lemme's story.
Several years ago she was diagnosed with leukemia.
"I did the 'Essence' piece when I thought I was dying. I didn't get any chemotherapy. I decided to eat the way God wanted me to. The doctors told me to quit my art. But if I can't do my art I might as well die."
Lemme gave herself to God. And once again, she emerged stronger than before.
-----
Lemme has exhibited her art at many venues, including seven solo exhibits at the Trammell Crow Pavilion in Dallas and in Jerusalem, Israel. She creates sculpture, bas reliefs, murals, paintings and pottery.
