 "Inertia to Movement" (2019 No.6, state 1), oil on canvas, 64.5x64.75 inches {"Emotion is the moment when steel meets flint and a spark is struck forth, for emotion is the chief source of consciousness. There is no change from darkness to light, or from inertia to movement, without emotion." -Carl G. Jung (1875-1961), "The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious", 1955, translation R.F.C Hull} Yesterday was an important day. I began a new painting, "Inertia to Movement". I have been seeking a more direct approach to exuding emotion in my work. Mostly my search has been through drawing, but yesterday I took a big step in finding emotion in painting as well. This first state of "Inertia to Movement" exhibits simplicity in search of clarity. I will walk carefully in the making of this painting, step by invented step. My intention is to be fully mindful, fully present, during its pathway to full blossom.
 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 04·02·2019, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches I have been making a strong effort to think simple. I am well aware an obvious relationship between negative and positive space must be the capturing effect that is the ultimate driving force of the first glance. The first glance should capture viewers, rein them in. As complex as yesterday's drawing became, it is simple in its composition. I hope you see that. There is dark on the left, bright on the right, strong vertical movements play against strong forms on the left and the right. This is a masterful drawing. I felt mastery in my process.
 "The Doctrine of Liberty" (2019 No.1, state 15), oil on canvas, 67x59.5 inches {"I believe there is a golden thread which alone gives meaning to the political history of the West, from Marathon to Alamein, from Solon to Winston Churchill and after. This I chose to call the doctrine of liberty under the law." -Anthony Sampson, "The Changing Anatomy of Britain", 1982}  "How's It Gonna End" (2019 No.2, state 7), oil on canvas, 59.5x32 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} I am nearing my exhibition dates for 2019. I am getting ready. Curiously, I am also looking hard at the means I use to speak. I am cleaning up my work, paring it down to essentials. Thus comes the completion of "The Doctrine of Liberty" (2019) and the simplification of "How's It Gonna End" (2019 No.2). "How's It Gonna End" may simplify even further; I may remove that orange form in the lower right. I believe I am learning the most important lesson of all — to speak well one must speak to the point, remove the falderal, be as simple as possible with one's message.
 Drawing 09·05·2016, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches Sometimes an image comes along that is alien to me, its creator. Such is the one I show you today. Yesterday's drawing is an exploratory composition; it is "call and response." It is shallow, low in its 3D-ness; basic in its play of forms. My upcoming paintings are in my subconscious. This must be preparation. I am uncomfortable with the sophisticated image of my recently completed painting, Along for the Ride. Recently I viewed original works by Pierre Bonnard, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Sean Scully, Mark Rothko, Vincent Van Gogh, Edmond Cross, and Paul Cézanne. All but the Cézanne's amazed me with the simplicity of their initial impact. Cézanne's work is different. Paintings by Paul Cézanne often immediately hit the viewer with sophisticated complexity. Myself, I go back and forth between initial impact as complex or simple. I am asking a big question. In all my work I continually look for satisfactory answers; answers that make me feel ease, comfort, and direct communication. Look at my last two paintings, Along for the Ride and The Intervening Tick: one complex, one simple. This bouncing, back and forth, will continue till I find my true home. The road to simplicity does not come easily to any painter. Paul Cézanne never found it. Mark Rothko certainly found it. Who is the better artist? I place my chip on Paul Cézanne.  Paul Cézanne, "Bibemus Quarry", oil on canvas, 65x81 cm, 1900  Mark Rothko, "Untitled, 1969", acrylic on canvas, 233.7x200.3 cm  Drawing 01·28·2018, pencil on paper, 16x20 inches This drawing is a good one. It questions complexity; How far I can go and still have your detailed attention? I question my own reflection. Process is finding truth by doing, making, questioning over and over again. It seems to me answers are found between the questions. Answers are not found while the questions are being asked. It is during the mulling that one finds what is true and what continues to be questionable.
 "2017 No.14" (state 7), oil on canvas, 47x44 inches   The painting 2017 No.14 is becoming increasingly difficult to reproduce well. There is no way a painting in person can look like a painting on a screen or in a book or on a magazine page. There ain't nothin' like the real. The only thing obvious to me is my involvement with this painting. It has gone up and will be sustained till end. I will work on it again today. I have a mission, and it feels good.
Yesterday's drawings continue my quest for messages more directly engaging to the viewer. This I am trying to find through more simple relationships of forms to one another and forms to ground. Something new does appear in drawing No.2. I used my finger to smudge the graphite of the pencil behind the form on the left. This increased its light-filled contrast, pushing the form's sphericalness hard and clear.  Drawing 12·21·2017, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I am making an effort to pare down the complexity of my images. They are often made by forms being added to balance off forms already there. This leads to compositions balanced by complexity of means. Such activity-style is convoluted. I am trying to make images more closely fit my intuitively known emotional/Intellectual self.
I am not explaining this well. An analogy is this: If a device can be built in a myriad of ways, it must certainly be better to build it with fewer parts. The more parts the more chance it will mis-perform, perhaps even do something it was not intended to do. It might break completely; its intended function may be lost. Obviously, a quest for simplicity of means in visual art is best. Simple is more efficient, and the intended communication is more likely to be successful.  Drawing 11·11·2017, pencil on paper, 20x16 inches I worry about everything. Am I seeking a Goldilocks solution? I do not think so. I go back and forth from too much to too little. Do I ever get it just right? People ask "What is the Goldilocks syndrome?" Google answers, "In cognitive science and developmental psychology, the Goldilocks effect or principle refers to an infant's preference to attend to events which are neither too simple nor too complex according to their current representation of the world. ... Such a planet is colloquially called a "Goldilocks Planet".
Yesterday's drawing is very complex. I think it works well. It is a compromise. There is a bold diagonal which establishes space in front of an abundance of forms. The diagonal frontal form allows the background forms to play with emotional abandon. This allows my dilemma, concerning too much, too little, or just right, to occur and to be jubilantly unresolved. Glory glory is art making!   The first drawing was begun on the day I was stretching the painting 2017 No.9 for exhibition. The second was begun yesterday. Both were finished yesterday. My feeling: as joyous as their complexity is... I believe I want more simplicity. I have been looking at images of contemporary painters. I have been wondering about initial visual impact. I think I need to explore simpler. Mark Rothko, who died in 1970, is one of the most popular of modern artists. The initial engagement of his paintings occurs through simple rectangular forms. The complexity of the surface, and the relationship of the colors of those rectangles, is a secondary, profound, response.  Mark Rothko, "Untitled (Gray and Mauve)", oil on canvas, 1969 |
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January 2020
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