At top, a 16" x 20" oil painting started a few months ago, around February. Bottom: a 15" x 20" watercolor I made within the last two weeks. More to come…
Thursday, December 10, 2009
11/30
(originally posted 11/30/09)
At top, a 16" x 20" oil painting started a few months ago, around February. Bottom: a 15" x 20" watercolor I made within the last two weeks. More to come…
At top, a 16" x 20" oil painting started a few months ago, around February. Bottom: a 15" x 20" watercolor I made within the last two weeks. More to come…
Continued identity crisis
(originally posted 10/26/09)
While this blog worries whether it is a design blog, an art blog, an “anything goes” blog (the weakest of the three), whether you would still love it if it were fat, I will post some watercolors:
These are all 15" by 20":
So many squares because I started each one based on observations of a square fan in the studio. From that starting point, several pictures, and a more or less successful dive into the subconscious, a good old-fashioned strive for the tension of illusionistic space and flatness, and also there's probably some subconscious Sharka coming through, with her Germanic love of rules—both the lines and the laws—and geometry.
Some of these look like landscapes, which Sharka also seems to be working on, although hers are explicit amalgams of both psychological and physical landscapes. My third from the top is a city I think, although that one is certainly overpainted, and second from the top appears to be a romanticized image of the American West, which is strange since I don't particularly like Westerns, or the 19th Century generally. Can you dislike a century? In fact, the only movie depicting that time period I can recall liking is Dances With Wolves, but the frontier in that movie is the plains of the American Midwest, not the deserts further on. I think that’s a wigwam at the top, painted by accident. And actually it only became a wigwam after I turned the painting on its side.
Joyce’s main criticism of these two paintings is that I was not judicious in my use of color. She’s probably right. I am very much about watercolors now because of the speed with which you can cover the paper, and not the colors themselves. I think I was hoping that through an “arbitrary”, automatic use of color, some other accidents might surface that would reveal something the images and ambiguous spaces created by the forms and composition did not. But Joyce is right to point out a certain color-apathy may be showing more than any fruitful abandon, and, full disclosure here, I did choose colors based on value and not hue, which kind of like buying a swiss army knife for the knife only. It serves the purpose, but why not just use a plain utensil?
While this blog worries whether it is a design blog, an art blog, an “anything goes” blog (the weakest of the three), whether you would still love it if it were fat, I will post some watercolors:
These are all 15" by 20":
So many squares because I started each one based on observations of a square fan in the studio. From that starting point, several pictures, and a more or less successful dive into the subconscious, a good old-fashioned strive for the tension of illusionistic space and flatness, and also there's probably some subconscious Sharka coming through, with her Germanic love of rules—both the lines and the laws—and geometry.
Some of these look like landscapes, which Sharka also seems to be working on, although hers are explicit amalgams of both psychological and physical landscapes. My third from the top is a city I think, although that one is certainly overpainted, and second from the top appears to be a romanticized image of the American West, which is strange since I don't particularly like Westerns, or the 19th Century generally. Can you dislike a century? In fact, the only movie depicting that time period I can recall liking is Dances With Wolves, but the frontier in that movie is the plains of the American Midwest, not the deserts further on. I think that’s a wigwam at the top, painted by accident. And actually it only became a wigwam after I turned the painting on its side.
Joyce’s main criticism of these two paintings is that I was not judicious in my use of color. She’s probably right. I am very much about watercolors now because of the speed with which you can cover the paper, and not the colors themselves. I think I was hoping that through an “arbitrary”, automatic use of color, some other accidents might surface that would reveal something the images and ambiguous spaces created by the forms and composition did not. But Joyce is right to point out a certain color-apathy may be showing more than any fruitful abandon, and, full disclosure here, I did choose colors based on value and not hue, which kind of like buying a swiss army knife for the knife only. It serves the purpose, but why not just use a plain utensil?
Found art
(originally posted 9/12/09)
I looked across my desk one morning, and saw this happened:
A woman formed from the back cover of Eye Magazine—showing an image from the website of fashion designer Issey Miyake—and the front cover of a Macy’s catalog that was inserted inside the Eye as a bookmark. It’s probably for their “one-day” sale, which if anyone hasn’t noticed happens every other Saturday.
I wonder where she really shops. If she knows Miyake, we might say she cares enough about fashion to know the particulars, whom she likes and doesn’t like, what cuts and patterns flatter her thin if underdeveloped body. In spite of all the alternatives, she has the confidence required to maintain her own opinion, and knows Miyake’s clothes look good on her even if they insist on altering her idea of who she is to do so. It is worth the sacrifice.
Of course like many women she'd sometimes rather just be pretty in a dumb way. It would be good to be able to stop trying. Even if the photos of her in magazines were Photoshopped after all, she would be worth the obscenity that is doctored photography. No one—not even she—would care to know the difference.
I looked across my desk one morning, and saw this happened:
A woman formed from the back cover of Eye Magazine—showing an image from the website of fashion designer Issey Miyake—and the front cover of a Macy’s catalog that was inserted inside the Eye as a bookmark. It’s probably for their “one-day” sale, which if anyone hasn’t noticed happens every other Saturday.
I wonder where she really shops. If she knows Miyake, we might say she cares enough about fashion to know the particulars, whom she likes and doesn’t like, what cuts and patterns flatter her thin if underdeveloped body. In spite of all the alternatives, she has the confidence required to maintain her own opinion, and knows Miyake’s clothes look good on her even if they insist on altering her idea of who she is to do so. It is worth the sacrifice.
Of course like many women she'd sometimes rather just be pretty in a dumb way. It would be good to be able to stop trying. Even if the photos of her in magazines were Photoshopped after all, she would be worth the obscenity that is doctored photography. No one—not even she—would care to know the difference.
Cementerio General
(originally posted 9/12/09)
You look at the sky and the tree first and I planned that. The rest is a wall of names, a memorial in the Cementerio General in Santiago, that has no effect on the viewer. This photo is a memorial to that memorial.
You look at the sky and the tree first and I planned that. The rest is a wall of names, a memorial in the Cementerio General in Santiago, that has no effect on the viewer. This photo is a memorial to that memorial.
the middle
(originally posted 9/9/09)
So I’ve been working on some paintings in the studio. And, after a few months, I’ve even finished a few and showed them at an art show. I’m not going to post any photos for them moment, not because I have any changes to make, or am shy about showing my work to anyone, but more because it will be interesting to talk about them first (at some point). I also don’t want my writing here to be a catalog of everything i’m doing in studio, and so become a chore for me and a bore to read, not to mention very Penn insofar as it can be seen as some kind of "deliverable" for otherwise unaccounted-for time. I’ve spent a bit of time in the studio so far, and nothing of value may come of it. This has grand potential.
But I’m at a stopping point of a kind I think. I’m not sure painting is a good idea anymore (there’s probably no membership fee for that club) and I’m starting to realize that asking “Is this art studio in working order” may really just be an oblique way of asking the same dated questions about purpose and identity, the answer to which we all know but forget sometimes is yes, you are an artist (If you say so.) which is true and empowering if not reassuring at all.
And art as always is a fountain, the function of infinite messes.
So I’ve been working on some paintings in the studio. And, after a few months, I’ve even finished a few and showed them at an art show. I’m not going to post any photos for them moment, not because I have any changes to make, or am shy about showing my work to anyone, but more because it will be interesting to talk about them first (at some point). I also don’t want my writing here to be a catalog of everything i’m doing in studio, and so become a chore for me and a bore to read, not to mention very Penn insofar as it can be seen as some kind of "deliverable" for otherwise unaccounted-for time. I’ve spent a bit of time in the studio so far, and nothing of value may come of it. This has grand potential.
But I’m at a stopping point of a kind I think. I’m not sure painting is a good idea anymore (there’s probably no membership fee for that club) and I’m starting to realize that asking “Is this art studio in working order” may really just be an oblique way of asking the same dated questions about purpose and identity, the answer to which we all know but forget sometimes is yes, you are an artist (If you say so.) which is true and empowering if not reassuring at all.
And art as always is a fountain, the function of infinite messes.
From the top
(originally posted 9/7/09)
Yesterday I managed to clean up the studio. This is always a mini-ordeal, in part because of the actual, physical mess, but also because I’m never sure if cleaning is a good idea. If art can be seen as a function of messes, cleaning an art studio is not always a good idea.
Of course, the studio has to be somewhat ordered for basic functionality. And I should probably clarify by saying that the space in the studio was fine, the floor mostly clear, I just couldn’t touch anything. There seemed to be a layer of dust on everything (even though I was only there recently), and I have this thing with my hands where they have to be clean or I can’t even think. The exception is once I get "in the zone" making something. Then I can spend hours painting, or on a wheel, and for some reason once I pass an initial commitment of time, paint and clay everywhere on my hands are no problem. But I have to start clean, and this I wasn’t able to do.
I am self-conscious about the appearance of the studio though. I wonder if I am keeping it too clean. Is this particular arrangement conducive to art making? Should I leave this pile of magazines alone? Is dust ok? I’ve debated what to put in it. The carpet was a bad idea—I spent way too much energy (any) trying to keep paint off of it. But I still want to make the studio some kind of living space too, even though I don’t want to actually live there.
Some have suggested this to me, and I’ll admit I did consider it briefly. But there’s no shower, for one, and even things that sound useful for parttime living, like a mini-fridge, a microwave, or food—“para que comas aaalllgo” from my aunt Carmela—distract more than provide energy. As with the creative effort, an important goal in designing the studio space seems to be keeping my personal comfort at an uncomfortable distance, even though making it a "living space" would seem to contradict this goal.
When he was here, my cousin Julian painted a ceiling fan for me and lodged it between some piping at the top of the room. Maybe this is the only kind of amenity the studio, or I need.
Yesterday I managed to clean up the studio. This is always a mini-ordeal, in part because of the actual, physical mess, but also because I’m never sure if cleaning is a good idea. If art can be seen as a function of messes, cleaning an art studio is not always a good idea.
Of course, the studio has to be somewhat ordered for basic functionality. And I should probably clarify by saying that the space in the studio was fine, the floor mostly clear, I just couldn’t touch anything. There seemed to be a layer of dust on everything (even though I was only there recently), and I have this thing with my hands where they have to be clean or I can’t even think. The exception is once I get "in the zone" making something. Then I can spend hours painting, or on a wheel, and for some reason once I pass an initial commitment of time, paint and clay everywhere on my hands are no problem. But I have to start clean, and this I wasn’t able to do.
I am self-conscious about the appearance of the studio though. I wonder if I am keeping it too clean. Is this particular arrangement conducive to art making? Should I leave this pile of magazines alone? Is dust ok? I’ve debated what to put in it. The carpet was a bad idea—I spent way too much energy (any) trying to keep paint off of it. But I still want to make the studio some kind of living space too, even though I don’t want to actually live there.
Some have suggested this to me, and I’ll admit I did consider it briefly. But there’s no shower, for one, and even things that sound useful for parttime living, like a mini-fridge, a microwave, or food—“para que comas aaalllgo” from my aunt Carmela—distract more than provide energy. As with the creative effort, an important goal in designing the studio space seems to be keeping my personal comfort at an uncomfortable distance, even though making it a "living space" would seem to contradict this goal.
When he was here, my cousin Julian painted a ceiling fan for me and lodged it between some piping at the top of the room. Maybe this is the only kind of amenity the studio, or I need.
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