Artists’ Games

Originally published on Successful-Blog.com on July 9, 2012

The Games Artists Play

In his earlier days, the artist Chuck Close was a painter of gestural abstractions. After a personal crisis, he decided to take photographs, and square inch by square inch, make a large painting of the photograph. The process, to Close, was a game of sorts. If you get the opportunity to see one of his large scale paintings in a museum, the results are quite staggering.

Artists like to play games within their work. After all, there is no rule book on how to make a piece of art. Instead, you have total and absolute freedom. You can do anything you want – a freedom which can actually be paralyzing. Thus, by creating little games, the artist has a self-imposed framework in which to work.

My own game is to paint alla prima – which means at first attempt, and to paint all wet-into-wet; never onto dry paint. While I’ve found a way to keep my own paintings wet for weeks, and thus to sustain the game over a longer period of time, the historical idea of an alla prima painting, like those of the impressionists, was to create a painting in one sitting.

This is hardly a constraint taken on by all painters. In fact, Monet said something to the effect that you’re not worth your salt as a painter if you couldn’t put a painting away for a couple of months, come back to it, and not see what it needed. Bonnard was said to sneak into museums with a brush and colors under his coat to touch up his own paintings.

How Artists’ Games Can Help Our Work

Reworking a piece over a long period of time can certainly bring richness to any work. It’s over time that we are able to reinforce subtle patterns, or refine smaller ideas within the larger piece. But sometimes, it’s difficult to let go of a piece. Our anxiety about getting it right takes over.

The idea, though, of saying that a painting, or even a piece of writing, is going to be done in one period of time – that I’ll do the best I can NOW, and that I’ll do this and move on to the next – can mitigate compulsiveness. We can bring this idea to writing too – I’ll write a piece – but after I’m done, I’m done. No going back and improving. Blogging is ideal for this – after all, changing a post after it’s been published, and after people have participated in the piece by commenting just doesn’t feel right.

If you find yourself stuck in your endeavors, and unable to break through some invisible barrier, try creating your own parameters and games. After all, it’s your game, and there’s not a person in the world who can say that it’s wrong.

Admire! Admire! Admire!

A version of this post first appeared in Successful-Blog.com, June 2012

At first, when people are studying to become visual artists they work very hard at getting their hands to respond accurately to what they see. Over time there is a shift as the artist chooses to emphasize, edit, and curate – they tend to bring focus to what they love and admire and tend to gloss over that which they do not like.

They might admire the horrible and the ugly. A steady diet of prettiness and even beauty can be tedious. Sometimes a scar, a blemish, an imperfection enhances what we love.  Sometimes we are more interested in what shocks us out of our stupor, and makes us feel more alive.

Even photographers choose to click the camera at some moments, pointing in some directions, while not doing so at other moments, and in other directions. They choose what to photograph.

Van Gogh wrote to his brother, Theo, “Admire, Admire, Admire – the only path to growth.”  When he wrote that, Vincent was living with destitute coal miners in an extreme wretched state of poverty. Yet in that environment, that which he chose to sing from the mountaintops was “admire.”

In admiring, we forgive what we don’t like.

To be forgiving is to be flexible.  You give way.  You are charitable. Otherwise, you are rigid, and unforgiving.  Uncharitable.

Being charitable doesn’t just mean giving money to your favorite cause.  It means that you don’t assume that what motivates others isn’t opposed to you.

These are some of the big words of morality: charity, mercy, forgiveness, admiration, love. The German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, exhorted us to re-evaluate our morals – to not simply accept the morals handed down to us by our families, churches, governments, and pop songs.  When we really examine the idea that we should focus on what we admire, and in the process, practice these big morals, we do ourselves a great service.

Imagine walking down a street.  You see a beautiful 19th century doorway, a knocker, perhaps a door knob. You see a beautiful chimney.  Meanwhile, you might pass by some piles of dog crap. You can choose to focus on the crap, or you can focus on what you admire.  There is choice there.  

There is ugliness all around us. You can search it out, and you will certainly find it. Isn’t it more gratifying to search out and take note of what you admire?

There is a time to stand up against something that isn’t right. I’m not saying that we should always smile and nod our heads.  Great evils have been perpetrated in this world simply because no one spoke out when needed. But there is a difference between speaking up when something really wrong is happening, and making a habit of taking note of what we don’t love.

There is a time to be critical. We don’t want a world where everything is unicorn sparkles and Kumbaya. Not being critical doesn’t mean that everything should be saccharine. But when an editor works through a manuscript, it is finite – it has boundaries. Our lives, on the other hand, are only delimited by the limits of our perception. There is a time to search out what is wrong or faulty in something – but if that is the way of our everyday life, we communicate wrongness in everything we do.

In dealing with employees or our families, if we focus on what is wrong, and what needs to be fixed, we are communicating the assumption of being broken. When people receive that message all of the time, they assume it as their story, and as the truth.  We are all in the business of telling stories – and in telling our stories, we will not help our heroes fulfill their destinies by teaching them that they are fundamentally broken and need to be fixed.

I’ve recently taken a lot of plane trips. Each time I’m in a plane taking off, first, I’m still amazed that a huge container made out of metal can fly us at amazing speeds and heights to our destinations. Then, I am usually amazed at the sheer quantity of people down there: all of those little houses, and cars – such an incredible density of people all across the country.

It’s easy to imagine that within all of this density that the behaviors of one individual could easily spread out to others.

My friend Liz Strauss says that we don’t see the most important thing about Twitter – that it’s the LARGEST NETWORKING GROUP in the WORLD.  We exist, in social media, in a density that is even greater than that of people living in New York City or Tokyo.

There has been a tendency in social media for people to get snarky, and critical. Someone says something stupid, we get angry or critical, and we spread that anger and criticality. It’s as though we were walking down that street and making note of all the garbage and dog crap in our path. We’re not seeing the beautiful door knobs.

Sometimes, you tell a child something, and you don’t think they’ve heard you – then, a few days later, you hear them telling another child just what you were telling them. We never really know just how influential we are. Sometimes, we learn from people many years later that we were a powerful force in their life.

It is in your power to, like a painter, focus on what you admire, and share that admiring viewpoint. It is in your power to focus on what you love, and change the narrative that others are telling themselves.  It’s in your power to be forgiving of that which you dislike, and help the heroes around you in their journeys.

Admire, admire, admire!

 

 

Opening

24745_1382601528363_1331714882_31119362_5988534_nWhen musicians, actors, dancers, and even writers have their big events – when we fête them for their new piece, cd or book, there is usually some activity going on like  a performance – and then a bit of a party.  But when artists come out of their studios to show their work, we have openings.  And in an opening, the artist is the center of a lot of attention, much the way someone is when they have their 80th birthday party, or when someone retires from a job of 30 years.  I had my own opening last night at the ASK Gallery – a great event for me, as I haven’t been able to produce a show of large-scale paintings for about 10 years.  That, and the gallery is a real sweet place.

It is tiring and somewhat mind-numbing.  If you’re a bit shy (I really am shy!) it can be a challenge to have all that focus on one’s self.  I probably had chats with over 50 individuals last night – old friends, new acquaintances, and a lot in between.  I  take all the well-wishes and kind words in, the way some mammals store fat for the long winter – to hold me over until the next show which  could be years off.

I’m so appreciative of the support, and all the people who spent time looking at my work. 

It was also great getting to meet many artists who submitted work to the group show.  Helen Gutfreund wrote an appreciative blog post about the opening.  Also discovered that fellow painter Jerry Teters is also a fellow jazz drummer.  I’m hoping to still meet some of the other artists – quite a community we live in.

Bifurcations

When I was invited to show my work at ASK, I had been sitting in the gallery where I’ll be showing. After the invitation, I regarded the room. It has several beautiful walls. The window wall won’t be so good for hanging paintings, but the other three are superb, although one is now… bifurcated – by a support pole.
Back in the studio, I considered my stock of stretchers and canvases, and in remembering these walls, felt that my canvases were just a bit small. What if I bolted them together as panels?

I haven’t typically worked in terms of “projects”. In the past, I just painted, and if I had the good fortune to be invited to show, I would just reach into the painting racks, and take out the latest work. The past ten years haven’t been a good time for me as regards to studio time, but after hearing Gregory Amenoff talk about his own propensity towards “projects”, I thought, “why not”. And thus this project was born.
The four paintings in this show were all made from pairs of canvases bolted together. The paintings were made as unified pieces, but the underlying supports are bifurcated.

The theme of this show and the juried show is “abstraction”. I have my share of hang-ups about that term. After all, aren’t these paintings “real”. Aren’t those paintings of people, vases of flowers, and landscapes, all very, very abstract?

Samuel Johnson meant the word as a sort of summarizing , “a smaller quantity containing the virtue or power of a greater”. Fair enough. You have to admit; there really is a difference between an abstraction, and a realist painting… you can see it quite clearly. Where’s the picturing? I would argue that its all there… just that those artists who practice “abstraction” hide their pictures – take more liberties with how the scene changes. Or they are focussed on relationships between things. Its can be like in a dream where one moment you’re driving your car, and the next moment you’re back in your first grade cafeteria without clothes on. Reality shifts. Perhaps there is an element of obsfucation – if we came out and showed you what we were really thinking you’d all be apalled and have us put away. Or perhaps there is a play of associations, like those found in really great poetry – and those associations drift in and out. Or perhaps I really do like the way that blue brushstroke sits next to that purple brushstroke, and my, aren’t they great friends?

At the end of the day, I still feel that too much is made of the distinctions. All of us painters make paintings – and whatever the approach, paintings are objects that often require being lived with – or seen many times – before they reveal themselves fully. Each painting is created from quantities of colored matter, usually tranferred to the painting with a stick with some hair on it – and that usually being held by a human appendage (I’m leaving out all the painters who throw, spray, hold brushes in their mouths, and elephant painters). And that aspect of markmaking generated by a human body is near universal to all paintings. Each painting speaks to that bodily experience.

Winter Salon: Gallery & Invited Artists – At Denise Bibro Gallery

Winter Salon: Gallery & Invited ArtistsThe invites are in (and going out) for the
Winter Salon: Gallery & Invited Artists

One of my monotypes is going to be included!

 Other artists include:

Sarah K.
Bean

Christa Blatchford

Nora Chavooshian

Sara Crisp

Lisa Dinhofer

Sydney DrumRuth EpsteinCamilla Fallon

Iona Fromboluti

Daniel GieseJosephine Haden

Gerry HayesRob HannDiana Hobson

John Hrehov

Carol Jacobsen

Mary KingJoyce KorotkinDamon Lehrer

Myung-Ock Lim

Charles Olson

Linda Lippa

Shane McAdams

Aija MeistersMichael Paul MillerNancy NicholsonChristopher ReigerTim RossAl Sprague

Dennis Tremalio

Martha Walker


 

Art as religion

Instead of First Holy Communion, instead of a Bar Mitzvah, there should be a solo show.  Instead of wafers and wine, its wine and cheese.  I cherish the sensibility of art as religion, but maybe not at all in the religious sense.  Just that in art we have our cosmogeny, our way of understanding the universe, life, and death.

 Found a small bit: September 2005 Todd Gibson wrote about Gregory Amenoff’s response to artist queries in Art on Paper. Gibson’s summary read as follows:

-Artists drive the bus (not critics, curators, art historians, etc.)
-Let your studio be a sanctuary
-Don’t be afraid to do dumb things in the studio
-Keep away from art fairs (“Instead visit a museum and spend time in the wing housing art from centuries past. You will be rejuvenated not demoralized.”)
-Support your fellow artists as they support you
-Read biographies of artists
-A life in art is a long race not a short sprint

 I have an old casette tape I made of Nick Marsicano speaking to some students, once, in 1983…. something to the effect that we needed to look at each other’s work, visit each other’s studios – in short; be involved with one another.  Funny, though, artists are so often NOT that way; but carping, competitive, and just outright ungenerous. 

I’m going to keep thinking on this issue; and maybe find some more to post on the issue.