 "Doublethink" (2019 No.3, state 7), oil on canvas, 68x58 inches {"Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them." -George Orwell, "Nineteen Eighty Four" (1949)}  Drawing 07·27·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Part IV: Flat on Flat versus 3D on FlatI prefer to deal with the artifice of the third-dimension on a flat surface, on canvas or paper. This is obvious in my images; obvious in the two works I show from yesterday's studio session. Henri Matisse constantly dealt with this problem. Many have said Matisse's art is mostly decorative. It is more than that. Matisse himself said this: "What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity, devoid of troubling or disturbing subject matter, an art which could be for every mental worker, for the businessman as well as the man of letters, for example, a soothing, calming influence on the mind, something like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue." That sounds like decoration to me! Matisse also said this: "Expression, to my way of thinking, does not consist of the passion mirrored upon a human face or betrayed by a violent gesture. The whole arrangement of my picture is expressive. The place occupied by figures or objects, the empty spaces around them, the proportions – everything plays a part. Composition is the art of arranging in a decorative manner the various elements at the painter’s disposal for the expression of his feelings." I agree with the second quote from Matisse more than the first. Expression is my desire too. However, I do not believe this (from Matisse): "Composition is the art of arranging in a decorative manner...." It is far more difficult that that. Expression is far more than decoration. It can be tough and caustic, clean or messy. I continue to research this problem. Let me show two works of Henri Matisse. One tough, filled with three-dimension references, the other absolutely decorative, absolutely flat on flat (see below). I have tried to prove my thesis, that the artifice of the third-dimension can produce superior, more expressive art. than flat on flat. These two works by Henri Matisse are undeniably terrific and expressive. Of the two, I prefer the former. They are both decorative, but they are both bold and expressive as well. Kudos to Henri Matisse! I will continue to research self-expression through the use of three-dimensional forms on a flat canvas. I intuitively feel this method will bring me far past the expressive limitations of flat on flat. I must say is, "I am not Henri Matisse!" I admire Matisse's art, but I admire myself more.  Henri Matisse, "Red Fish in Interior", oil on canvas, 1912  Henri Matisse, "The Eschimo", paper on paper, 1947
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 Drawing 07·26·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Part III: Wall with Objects OR WallpaperPaintings and drawings are flat, two-dimensional surfaces. If an artifice of the third dimension is created there are two choices. In order to deal with the inherent two-dimensionality of canvas or paper an artist can... (1) create a box, or landscape, by using a ground defined by a horizon, or (2) hang forms from a flat wall (the wall being defined by obvious positioning of the forms on the wall). There is third way to deal with two-dimensional canvas or paper: Float flat objects in an amorphous space. This third option, flat on flat, is always unsatisfactory. It is decoration. It is merely wallpaper. It cannot be art! Decoration is nice and pleasant, it may fill a void on a wall, but it cannot speak deeply of the human spirit, complex as the human spirit is, with intellect and emotion. Joan Miró tried doing both; he made paintings with the artifice of the third-dimension, and he made paintings that have flat objects on amorphous backgrounds. Miró's paintings with the third dimensional deceit mostly succeed, Miró's flat on flat paintings mostly fail (they are decorative and may fit well as decorations in a home, nothing more). Below, look at two paintings by Joan Miró. I admit, the second painting, which is flat on flat, exhibits Miró's effort to define the ground by using uneven areas of paint (in this way a viewer, at least, is cognizant the painting is on a flat surface). Henri Matisse did both. He created flat on flat works (e.g., his late paper cuts), but most of his career was spent making drawings and paintings with an exuberant questioning of color and three-dimensional space. I will discuss Matisse's work tomorrow. In yesterday's drawing I experimented with the lack of a horizon line; however there is an obvious horizon and an obvious ground.  Joan Miró, "Harlequin's Carnival", oil on canvas, 66x93cm, 1925  Joan Miró, "Blue III", oil on canvas, 270x355cm, 1961  "Sentence" (2019 No.4, state 2), oil on canvas, 36x61.5 inches {"And you’d spend years trying to decipher the sentence, until finally you’d understand it. But after a while you’d realize you got it wrong, and the sentence meant something else entirely." - Tadeusz Dąbrowski, from the poem "Sentence"}  Drawing 07·24·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Today's entry is partially a tale of two visitors. Two artists visited my studio; an illuminating conversation ensued. One artist questioned my use of a horizon line. For the last few years I have consistently used the horizon line to place a definitive ground in my drawings and my paintings; therefore allowing the viewer to think, "Landscape!" This question, "Horizon or not?", began a fascinating discussion amongst us three. I have no sound judgement. I don't know. I do know I dealt with this same problem around 1990 (after this text I show two works from that period). The first of these older paintings was reviewed by as art critic; he questioned my lack of establishing a touchable ground. The second painting is my reaction to that relevant criticism. I have not found an answer that gives me security. And thus it goes... Yesterday's work is shown above. Both the drawing and the painting have an obvious horizon line. Finally, at the bottom of this post I show a work by Anselm Kiefer, widely respected as one of the most important painters of our generation. Kiefer is, even in his most abstract works, landscape relentless.  "3D Abstraction", oil on canvas, 1987  "Intestinal Forms", oil on canvas, 1990  Anselm Kiefer, "The Land of the Two Rivers (Zweistromland)" oil on canvas, 1995  Drawing 07·09·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I failed yesterday if simplicity be my goal. It is not! I want the intellectual and emotional satisfaction of complex images and the direct and immediate engagement of simplicity. Ellsworth Kelly achieved great visual impact using simple images. Kelly's work satisfies emotionally and intellectually. His is a great achievement. As much as I envy Kelly's direct route to completely fulfilling art, I am not Ellsworth Kelly; I am myself. My path continues to be discovered, step by currently unknown next step. Yesterday's drawing was such a step. It taught me; I reflect upon it. I want the negative space in my art to be as effective as Ellsworth Kelly was able to achieve in his art.  Ellsworth Kelly, "Untitled", oil on canvas, 1958  Drawing 04·20·2019, 20x16 inches, pencil on paper As I made yesterday's drawing I felt rusty, a little out of touch with my present ideas. But here it is, and here I am. I continue on the labor of readying my paintings and drawings for the AVA Gallery exhibition; my works will be delivered this coming Friday, April 26. In making yesterday's drawing I had to wrangle with myself; I had to force myself to focus on my two most present interests: (1) Full frontal composition akin to the means Pablo Picasso used, and (2) A greater involvement with the emotional subtleties that are available when negative space is used effectively. Yesterday's drawing approached both of these interests, but became dark and menacing as it was worked and re-worked; I hit it with an extreme amount of pencil marks. This drawing did not come easily. Today, I finish touching-up the last two paintings going to AVA Galley, and I framed two of the four more drawings I must frame for the AVA exhibit. Perhaps I will get a chance to draw. I very much want to keep in touch with my current thoughts.  Pablo Picasso, "Three Musicians", oil on canvas  Drawing 04·14·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches It took me two days to make this drawing because I did not have the time to do it in one sitting. This time management is caused by the necessity that I frame works for my upcoming exhibition at AVA Gallery. If you follow the link to AVA you would see the announcement on AVA's homepage. Going away from a partially finished drawing, then returning to finish it, is both beneficial and detrimental. Beneficial because it forces introspection upon return to the half finished drawing (I see it afresh; I see it more clearly; I immediately recognize its successes and failures). The detrimental part is me losing track of the original question I asked. In this case, in the drawing I show today, I wanted to inspect the possibilities of vigor in an insistently classically flat composition, one designed to be seen flat in the viewer's face. I often think of the great success Pablo Picasso had using this method in his painting Guernica, which has a central flat, in the viewer's face, triangle, surrounded by two side panels.  Pablo Picasso, "Guernica", oil on canvas, 1937  "How's It Gonna End" (2019 No.2, state 15), oil on canvas, 60x33 inches {"Life is sweet at the edge of a razor; And down in the front row of an old picture show the old man is asleep as the credits start to roll. And I want to know, the same thing everyone wants to know, how's it going to end?" -Tom Waits}  Drawing 03·31·2019 No.1, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches  Drawing 03·31·2019 No.2, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches When film was film I would take photos with it, develop it; first the negatives (in the dark of a developing tank), then the positives (in a dark room). I have aged. Film has left us, replaced by digital imaging, but I make analog images with pencil and oil paints. My recent passion in image-making is introspection regarding the power of the positive and the negative. George Eastman, the founder of Eastman Kodak Corporation, said, "Character, like a photograph, develops in darkness." This is me developing; unlike film, this is digital. This is the age of digitation. Now we use the digital World Wide Web. At one point I would have written this in my journal, but that was before blogging was possible.
All three images I show today are jumps in personal expressive progress. I am optimistic. I will solve my angst, my problems; I will find a way to express myself well. I do not want to live in darkness. Here I am!  Drawing 03·28·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Yesterday's studio session was a lot of me sitting and observing. Surprised I was at my having ignored the potency of negative space. I sometimes feel awash is quandary. Why did I so actively attack the positive forms as animators of my images? Why did I not look ardently at negative space as animator? I picked up a few books; I looked at images of works from de Kooning to Guston to Matisse. All of these artists, like me, tend to clog their canvases with marks, making negative space look like an afterthought. Their drawings, however, are different. Negative space is more important. (See drawings by these artists, below.) Today, I offer you a drawing of mine (made yesterday). In it I use negative space effectively. Learning never ceases. Learning sometimes leaves me with a feeling of loss; Sometimes it hurts! Why did it take me so long, some many drawings, so many paintings, to realize the great emotional and intellectual value of negative space?  Willem de Kooning, "Untitled", charcoal on paper, 1966  Philip Guston, "Web", India Ink on Paper, 1975  Henri Matisse, "Lydia with Her Hair in a Net", pencil on paper, 1939  Drawing 01·31·2019, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches  "Chaos, Stillness & Prayer" (2018 No.9, state 8), oil on canvas, 54x36 inches {"Art has something to do with the achievement of stillness in the midst of chaos. A stillness which characterizes prayer, too, and the eye of the storm.... an arrest of attention in the midst of distraction." -Saul Bellow, "Writers at Work: Third Series", 1967} I will not relent. This is poetry. As poet I continually revisit, alter the script yet conserve the basic idea; My process is consistent enhancement of meaning. That is my job. This work of mine will not become genre, nor will it become extinct. Like Rotrouenge, it is lyrical and has repeated elements that may be called refrains. However, I believe in contrast; the repetition of marks and/or forms is contrasted against the entirety. I also believe my work is mostly similar to Rotrouenge because "...the original genre may have lost its distinct identity." Yesterday I revisited the painting "Chaos, Stillness & Prayer" (2018 No.9). Today I show state 8. It is now essentially complete, yet requires a once-over to affirm its completion. Yesterday's drawing continues my research into hard versus rounded forms. Rotrouenge (from Wikipedia)  Drawing 01·30·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Insight comes in many varieties. Sometimes it is self-induced. Often it occurs because I see something in my environment that indicates there is a better way. My environment includes people and books and history and magazines and blogs and reproductions of art and memories of the art I love. The drawing I show today is me reacting to the forms in my painting "The Doctrine of Liberty". This drawing is insightful. It occurred because I was seeking a means to muster maximum strength from the forms in "The Doctrine of Liberty" — particularly the major letter-G-like form in the left half. Yesterday's blog post referred to Pablo Picasso. Picasso once remarked that he had tried so many disparate means to make a painting that generations of artists would use his loose ends. This has happened to me. Yesterday I showed Picasso's painting "Figures at the Seaside". In it the forms are not simply rounded, as some of my larger forms tend to be; the forms in "Figures at the Seaside" have hard, soft, and rounded edges. This painting gave me insight, as do other works by Picasso that deal with abstract forms that resemble the kind of forms I tend to generate. You can see it in the drawing I show you today. Below I attach a couple other works by Picasso that investigate the means to animate three-dimensional forms.  Pablo Picasso, "Seated Bather on the Beach", oil on canvas, 163x129.5 cm, 1929  Pablo Picasso, "Bather", 1929 |
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