Desire does not make it happen. It takes discipline, organization, preparation, and work. This includes the proper infrastructure. Yesterday I continued to improve my work wall, where I paint. Consistent readers of this blog know I want to move more quickly with my painting, as quickly as I do with my drawing. I have accepted the ups and downs my drawing exhibits, some good, some excellent, some not-so-good. This is exactly what I wish for my painting. This allowance of variation in quality can only happen if approaching white canvas is similar to approaching white paper. That is, putting marks on canvas should not feel any more consequential than putting marks on paper. I have long thought my paintings are more serious, more important, than drawings. Relative to drawings, paintings are larger in size, the material is more expensive, and my time of preparation is greater. My painting wall reduces preparation to simple cut and tack. Preparation time for a canvas is now no more than preparation time for a drawing. There is one caveat, paintings are oil based and take over a couple weeks to dry, thus I need a place to hang them while they dry. This is the reason I am now expanding the work-wall. After a painting dries I can role it up until it is to be exhibited or sold.
Yesterday's drawing confuses me. I think this is exactly its message. Yesterday I saw the film, "The Big Short". One of its messages is that process leading to proof of one's ideas is not necessarily uplifting. Success is confusing. Despite being a predecessor to my viewing the film, this drawing describes well my take-away from yesterday's activities, both from the film and from the studio. Being morally invested in doing the right thing does not lead to celebration or happiness. There is a reward of self-awareness, however, that makes me believe the process is worthwhile. Whoever thunk it? I am a continual skeptic, full of doubt. I doubted I would ever get here, near a conclusion to Painting-01·08·2016, even though I have been through this process hundreds of times. The basic rule: Hang in there and a conclusion will occur! I write this with caution, because there may be an additional touch or two coming, but nothing so serious as to alter the mood or composition of this painting. It is what it is.
Yesterday's drawings continued my query into both approach and subject matter. There is no finality in these drawings. If anything, drawings like these make me realize that I will never find finality. I continue to fail at perfect reproduction — this too will forever be a problem! In today's reproductions you can see that both drawings were unevenly lit: A shadowing effect occurs in the upper left. FYI: The drawing on the left was on slightly yellow paper, with a water mark visible in the lower left. Fluidity means moving with supreme grace and skill. I have taken another step in that direction, toward command of my talent and skill. I am referring to painting. Yesterday I approached my painting as I approach my drawing, without fear of stroke and mark because I know I can follow each of them, one after another, until I get them right. This seems like a simple concept, but it is far more complex than I had known before. Because, I have to know where to go if I am to go toward "rightness". My trust in my knowing has jumped. It takes knowledge, and trust in knowledge, to find visual truth on paper or canvas.
I show two reproductions today. One from February 7, one from yesterday, February 9. First comes yesterday's drawing, harking as it is toward Valentine's Day February 14. Maudlin? Perhaps, except for the challenged rose. The February 7 drawing is challenging in a different way. It is spatially different, and it also treats the human head in a flat manner, sans nose and mouth. Picasso said, "I do not seek, I find." A bit of this is going on in these drawings, as I turn more and more to surprising discovery, finding my way in the act of creation.
It felt right! Yesterday's studio work came like sawdust on the floor after a perfect cut. It just appeared. After the process of making it was there when I looked. The give and take of making occurred seamlessly, without worry or concern. The route followed felt preordained. Similar it was to navigating a ship through the necessary route to avoid foundering. Enjoy these works! I believe they are exceptional, one in its beginnings and one in its final form.
In yesterday's post I showed a reproduction of a painting by Carroll Dunham. That painting of Dunham's is similar to many of his recent paintings. Dunham's color scheme is repetitive. Dunham's imagery is repetitive, including the use of the backside of a woman with large buttocks (take a look at Dunham's website for more of the same: Carroll Dunham's website). Yesterday a woman with large buttocks showed up in my drawing. This drawing is influenced by Carroll Dunham, but it is obviously quite different than Dunham's work. Most interesting to me is my vastly dissimilar approach to drawing. In everything I do, it is me I am interested. It appears, however, that I am casually interest in Dunham. Comparing Dunham's approach to mine is instructive. I am all about being playful with forms, creating interesting compositions based upon forms in space, and scratching the surfaces of those forms with pencil or paint. Contrasting Dunham's works to mine makes my own approach so apparent to me. In contrast to Dunham, my work is non-repetitive in its use of imagery, form, space, color, and composition. Carroll Dunham does appear to make many more paintings than I. So sticking to one idea that strikes one's fancy may help produce a large volume of work, but is it good work? I will not answer that, but I will say that Dunham appears to have "made it", by which I mean his paintings are bought and possessed by collectors, one after another. That has not happened to me. My work is not about producing a large volume of work. Is this a problem? This question I will not attempt to answer.
Drawings from 1/6/2016, pencil on paper, 20X16 inches Yes, it is me, the dog! I am back and doing what dogs do. Like a habit unbroken, I will follow my master. The problem is... I am still learning about that which my master demands. I have written this before: Perhaps painting will sort this out more efficiently than drawing. My reasoning? I find that the longer term give and take of the process of painting, and its larger format, causes me to pay more attention to the thoroughly authentic. This is in contrast to the transient ideas I sometimes entertain in my drawing.
Yesterday's images were all over the place, but they are united in their acceptance of my internal reality. I live in place far away from the hubbub of humanity. This allows me to dwell, to contemplate, then make an effort to unravel my confusion. Confusion is born of past experiences misunderstood, or never fully understood. I have taken upon myself the job of exploring this vast, untidy, mystifying ocean of bewilderment and wonderment. It's "Data"❗️
A day in the studio is not number 1, or number 2, or number 3. It is a gathering of information. It is research. Amazingly endless, it teaches while it exalts! Selfish, some would say, because it is paying homage to myself. Seeking myself is as mysterious as seeking a higher order in the universe. It is there and it is to be discovered and revealed. Such is my work. I am recovering from the intensity and indulgence of Thanksgiving Dinner, family and friends. Nice! Yesterday I spent some time in the studio, not a lot, but enough to try using a piece of old printmaking paper to support my drawing. It is rougher in texture than my usual paper, also a bit yellow (today's reproduction accurately depicts the paper's subtle yellow surface). The pencil went on differently too, scrapping across the paper's robust texture. It also erased differently, leaving more traces of strokes gone wrong. I returned to an old image. This became an activity filled with déjà vu. (At moments like this I always think of Yogi Berra, who said, "It's déjà vu all over again.") Yes, yesterday was a relaxing day, a gentle return from a big meal and social activity.
I spent much of Saturday November 21st looking at, then thinking about, the art of Peter Saul. I saw many of his works, perhaps 30 to 40, at the Hall Art Foundation in Reading, Vermont. It was a retrospective. A friend, who saw the exhibit with me, later called the work, "tawdry." I have to agree. The other person I saw the exhibit with said, "He is acting out, like a spoiled brat." I also agree with this assessment. If you do not know the work of Peter Saul look at the reproduction of one of his works at the end of this post
This brings me to personal assessment of my work. Yesterday I was tired. I limited my time in the studio. The work came easily, energizing me as I went along. I can say this: it bothers me that I do not make art like anyone else. Henri Matisse said something similar. However, it is the work I must do. My own work fascinates me because it is revelatory. |
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April 2024
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