 "The Opposite of Indifference" (2021 No.4, state 06), oil on canvas, 50x54 inches, {"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference. Because of indifference one dies before one actually dies. To be in the window and watch people being sent to concentration camps or being attacked in the street and do nothing, that's being dead. His or her neighbor are of no consequence. Their hidden or visible anguish is of no interest. Indifference reduces the Other to an Abstraction." - Elie Wiesel, "US News & World Report" (27 October 1986)}  Drawing 05·30·2021, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Doggedly I am in pursuit. Pursuit of the "what" is not clear, nor should it be. I will know it when I see it (if I ever see it). These steps I take are ones in self-knowledge. Goodness and purity are felt, never fully seen in my own work. I know they exist. I have seen them in other artists' work. My belief in myself, the possibility of my being successful, is relentless. I am sure this is the way John Coltrane felt. I keep going back to do more work because I know a little tweak will get me closer to full realization that is my own depth.
Yesterday's work, the drawing and painting, were good, solid steps. I felt ground, but that ground has a little squish to it.
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 Drawing 04·02·2021, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I am a diehard fan of Frank Zappa’s music. Last night I watched the 2020 documentary film, Zappa.
Zappa was everything I thought him to be. For me, this film was not revealing, but enormously confirmative. I enjoyed Zappa's music then. I continue to listen to Zappa's music now, often. My first live Zappa concert was in Madison Wisconsion, 1969. I dragged along my three college roommates; not sure they ever forgave me. Please excuse this aside. Seeing Zappa again flooded me with reminiscence. I did not know that Zappa actually became Slovakia’s official “Trade and Cultural Representative" to the United States. I knew Zappa appeared several times before Congressional Committees, who were actively looking into banning Republican repulsive lyrics; that is here. I did not know he was a cultural hero to young Slovaks. Apparently the Slovak police, when citizens called to complain about abhorrent Rock and Roll being played, would say to the listeners, “Turn off that Zappa music!” Zappa said the Slovak youth would not have known who he was except for the police. Consequently, Zappa became a cultural hero, and the first American of stature to visit after the Velvet Revolution. The beginning, and near the end, of the film, shows Zappa in Prague for one of his last concerts. Where am I in all of this. I am my own cultural hero. I am the hero of my life. Seeing Frank Zappa being his own hero reminds me of me. I document everything I do. Frank did the same. This blog is a result of my personal cultural documentation. Here I am, day by day, putting my art in a Vault, for myself, for others who are interested. Frank often said he made music only for himself. He was a person documentarian with a Vault of his ow; it collected everything he did, day by day. All his music, all his scores and writings, are collected, are available, in Frank Zappa's Vault, made by Frank Zappa for Frank Zappa. I do the same for myself. Yesterday's drawing is revelatory. I am, through work, becoming myself, documenting my continuing personal revelation, on paper and canvas. Some days this path feels better than others. This drawing feels good now, it felt good in the making.  Drawing 09·05·2020, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches "You don't need a weather man to know which way the wind blows..." (Bob Dylan). I am following the wind. This is one more weathervane in my arsenal. Subterranean Homesick Blues  Drawing 07·25·2020, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches As elegant as yesterday's drawing is, I feel it is missing an element I seek. More clearly: It is missing the center of the element I seek. This drawing lacks a nucleus! Perhaps I do recognize there is a nucleus within its negative space. Is that enough? I don't believe it is. I require a positive nucleus to feel my work has become appropriately and properly me. As example, I show you a work by my mentor, Philip Guston. In his most abstract period, Guston (unlike his buddy, Jackson Pollock), understood the need for a painting to have a focal point. All-Over is not conducive to viewer involvement. All-Over is a cop out; it denotes a loss of interest in topic (as abstract as that topic may be). The painting I show you below, by Philip Guston, has a title relevant to today's discussion as well: "Zone", The title is unnecessary because its relevance is in its obvious visual nucleus.  Philip Guston, "Zone", oil on canvas, 1954  Drawing 06·12·2020, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I am working hard to become enlightened, wholly myself. I look outside of me, I see much the same. Outside my studio there is continuing turmoil in my society; it too is working hard to become enlightened, more equitable, more caring, whole in its empathy. This is not true for everyone in our society; thus the battle continues. Overt people, knowing authentic human empathy is on their side, are marching in great numbers, calling for change, calling for us to be better; they are making great efforts to enlighten those who have strayed away from the rationality of treating one another with respect. Unfortunately we have a President who does not get it. I am optimistic. I believe we will move past this tumultuous era. Our society is based upon sound, empathetic, rational ideas. Please read again our nation's "Bill of Rights." As reminder I give you a reproduction of Faith Ringgold's painting, "Freedom of Speech." My drawing, the one I show today, is enlightened as well. Through self-challenge and hard work I too am becoming less ignorant, better informed, civilized, illuminated; yes, enlightened.  Faith Ringgold, "Freedom of Speech", oil on canvas, 1990  Drawing 05·23·2020, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches Yesterday I received a used copy of the 1996 Ellsworth Kelly Retrospective Exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. Slid between the front cover and the title page was a Guggenheim Museum flyer for the opening month of the exhibit. In the flyer was a reference to Pablo Picasso, showing one of his drawings that influenced Ellsworth Kelly. That drawing inspired the drawing I show you today (made yesterday).
 Drawing 05·02·0202, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Yesterday's drawing is worth its try. I am looking to excite the entire two-dimensional surface. I'm looking to engage emotions upon first site. The insistence of two-dimensionality, which is true for all wall-hung objects, is undeniable. I have tried to deny that, but the hour is getting later; I want to express now, not later. So, here they come. One after another; I am going to hurl images at the viewer, all in acceptance of my human-ness, reality, and my angst. I want to be here to stay, but I know that cannot be true. Full acceptance is pictorial two-dimensional acceptance; 2D limitations embrace both space and time. I live in a 3D human world where 2D images hang on our walls. Okay, I accept it! Now, here come the real. I am fully aware that the greatness of Pablo Picasso began in his youth. Early on in his artistic life, Pablo accepted the limitations of space and time; his acceptance occurred far earlier in his life than my acceptance of the same. From my earliest days I rebelled against limitations. Pablo accepted the reality of limitations, then he worked within those limitations to create amazingly disparate images. I show you one (below), because it is related to the drawing I created yesterday.  Pablo Picasso, "Young Girl Throwing a Rock", oil on canvas, 1931  "Your Decisions Matter" (2020 No.2, state 7), oil on canvas, 52x55½ inches {"It's essential that you believe as if your decisions matter... reality isn't important; what's important is your belief..." - Ted Chiang, "Exhalation", 2019} When does simplification become too much? Am I simplifying? Clarity is an act of decisiveness; Simplification is an act of divorce. That which appears simpler is often more complex. Complexity is a measure of profundity. Simplification is a measure of ease. This painting, "Your Decisions Matter", is complex; it is profound, albeit simpler in color scheme and its number and kinds of forms. Mark Rothko understood profundity; he made, to the unobservant eye, seemingly simple paintings. I leave you with a great painting by Mark Rothko.  Mark Rothko, "Blue & Grey", oil on canvas, 1962  Drawing 08·27·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Over and over I have been asked to identify the artist who has influenced me most. I react different to two kind of Artist Influencers. There are artists whose splendid paintings I admire; Picasso comes to mind. There are artists who make splendid paintings, but I also admire their process, their methodology. This second category is more important to me, I have often referred to Matisse as a major influencer; of course the many discussions I had with my primary teacher and mentor, Philip Guston, will always influence my quest for truly satisfying process-methodology. Until yesterday! I have often looked at, often admired, the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat (1960-1988). Yesterday a friend of mine sent me a little book entitled, Basquiat-isms. This book is filled with splendid snippets of ideas, direct quotes from Basquiat. Here are three from that book; these make total sense to me: "I am trying to communicate an idea; I was trying to paint a very urban landscape. I was trying to make paintings different from the paintings that I saw a lot of at the time, which were mostly minimal, and they were highbrow and alienating, and I wanted to make very direct paintings that most people would feel the emotion behind when they saw them." "I feel if I work randomly, I come up with a more interesting narrative." Asked, "Do you think you are lucky?" Basquiat responded, "Talented, too." I began yesterday's drawing with as much randomness as I could muster. My intense self-educated skill took over; I worked as thoughtlessly as I could muster. Look what happened!  Jean-Michel Basquiat, "Pork Sans", oil & pencil on wood door, 211x85.5cm, 1981 |
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