Katharine A. Cartwright Studio

NWS and more!

2011-10-06T10:53:00.003-04:00

Image: Fourier's Law by Katharine A. Cartwright; watercolor on Arches paper; 26"x 19"

Time flies when you're having fun (who said that??) and I've neglected this blog. However, there's good news to report. My recent work (see image) was just juried into the 91st Annual Exhibition of the National Watercolor Society (NWS) ... and ... it won the Loa Sprung Award for the best abstract painting ... and ... it will go on tour for one year .... and ... I earned Signature Status from NWS! This is a fantastic honor, and I'm thrilled to be part of this most prestigious watercolor society.

"The Laws of Nature" series continues. I've painted 15 so far and will keep going for many more years. This work has also caught the attention of major collectors and publications. So, I'm enthusiastically moving forward.

Additionally, I've had the joy of teaching many students over the summer the rewards of creating authentic work - painted expertly in their own voices. I look forward to working with more students and creating an individualized experience for them.

Otherwise, we're readying our home for winter. It was 20 degrees this morning. And, I'll leave for Los Angeles in two weeks to attend the NWS award ceremony.

Life is good! What's new with you?

Avante-garde, kitsch, and propaganda

2011-08-15T07:03:00.005-04:00

Art and Culture: Critical Essays
By Clement Greenberg (1961, 1989)

Part 1: Culture in General, Section 1: Avant-Garde and Kitsch

While I know far less about the history of art and art theory than Clement Greenberg, I do know an elitist when I encounter one. After finishing the first section of Chapter 1 of this book, I’m fairly certain it’s written by en elitist who believes that the “lower classes” is limited in its ability to understand art and appreciates only kitsch while the "privileged elite class" support and protect the “fine art” produced by the avant-garde. Phooey! I’ve been in many poor and working class homes that hang prints of great works of art on their walls. True, they can’t afford the real thing, but they value it enough to stick it in a frame and hang it on their walls.

But, there are some interesting ideas in this book. Greenberg gives us insight into the control of World War II politics on art, especially Hitler’s rejection of fine art in favor of kitsch, and Stalin’s use of kitsch for propaganda. This led me to think about how I, as an artist, would react to absolute control over my work.

Would I continue to paint if forced to produce kitsch and/or propaganda? Although the urge to make art would be irrestistible to me, I wouldn't want to produce propaganda. At least, I’d like to think that I could be that pure of heart and deed.

What about you?

Kitsch

2011-08-10T18:41:00.001-04:00

Art and Culture: Critical Essays
By Clement Greenberg (1961, 1989)

Part 1: Culture in General, Section 1: Avant-Garde and Kitsch

Image: Kitsch Biennale, 2010 Palazzo Cini

According to Greenberg, kitsch arrived on the scene at the same time as avant-garde art: Kitsch is a product of the industrial revolution which urbanized the masses of Western Europe and America and established what is called universal literacy. Before that time, the literate class was culturally separate and considered more “refined” than the “folk culture.” Once the country peasants moved into the cities and became literate, they had more leisure time, but didn’t share the tastes of the more elite class. Nor were they interested in folk art any longer, since it didn’t fit their new urban sensibilities. It was in this setting that “kitsch” was born.

What, exactly, is kitsch? Greenberg describes it this way:
Kitsch is the source of its profits.
Kitsch is mechanical and operates by formulas.
Kitsch is a vicarious experience and faked sensations.
Kitsch changes according to style, but remains always the same.
Kitsch is the epitome of all that is spurious in the life of our times.

Kitsch pretends to demand nothing of its customers except their money – not even their time.

The precondition for kitsch, a condition without which kitsch would be impossible, is the availability close at hand of a fully matured cultural tradition, whose discoveries, acquisitions, and perfected self-consciousness kitsch can take advantage of for its own ends. It borrows from it devices, tricks, stratagems, rules of thumb, themes, converts them into a system and discards the rest.

Since its inception, kitsch has become ubiquitous. It exists in nearly every culture all around the world and has displaced folk art to a large extent.

Greenberg asks us to consider why kitsch is virulent – nearly irresistible. And, why is it much more marketable to “fine art?” His explanation has to do with the viewer’s ability to reflect and digest art. That is, fine art requires the viewer to do some mental work and kitsch is predigested by the artist giving the viewer a shortcut to pleasure.

What are your thoughts?

Next time … the links between avant-garde and kitsch.

The avant-garde

2011-08-07T06:42:00.001-04:00

Art and Culture: Critical Essays
by Clement Greenberg (1961, 1989)

Part 1: Culture in General, Section 1: Avant-Garde and Kitsch

Image: Pablo Picasso

Greenberg begins this section with his theory that the emergence of the avant-garde artist is attributable to the inevitable break up of accepted notions in society over time. He sees the gradual evolution of society into one of stagnation and decay – where controversy is avoided and the arts are limited to tradition so that the only advancements are in the form of “virtuosity in the small details of form.” Variation on the same established themes become the norm and nothing “new” is produced.

It is in reaction to this stagnant condition that Western bourgeois society produced avant-garde culture around the time of the Western scientific revolution. A criticism of society and history emerged – one that challenged the established norms and examined cause and effect. A new viewpoint arose, one that places our present society in a succession of social orders over time. This challenged the former notion (Alexandrianism) that recognized only one timeless form of society. It is no wonder that the arts would stagnate under such a philosophy!

So, the avant-garde had to emerge from a group that viewed society in a new way – one that allows for challenge (criticism) and change. This required courage. “Courage indeed was needed for this, because the avant-garde’s emigration from bourgeois society to bohemia meant also an emigration from the markets of capitalism, upon which artists and writers had been thrown by the falling away of aristocratic patronage.” Ah…. The emergence of the starving artist! But, there was a compromise. The avant-garde remained attached to bourgeois society because it needed its money.

Eventually, every revolution must resolve itself in a new stable form of society. “Hence it developed that the true and most important function of the avant-garde was not to ‘experiment,’ but to find a path along which it would be possible to keep culture moving in the midst of ideological confusion and violence. Retiring from public altogether, the avant-garde poet or artist sought to maintain the high level of his art by both narrowing and raising it to the expression of an absolute in which all relativities and contradictions would be either resolved or beside the point.”

It is in this way the “Art for art’s sake” emerged and remains with us today. This IS the credo of the avant-garde and the foundation for abstract non-objective art.

“Picasso, Braque, Mondrian, Miro, Kandinsky, Brancusi, even Klee, Matisse and Cezanne derive their chief inspiration from the medium they work in. The excitement of their art seems to lie most of all in its pure preoccupation with the invention and arrangement of spaces, surfaces, shapes, colors, etc., to the exclusion of whatever is not necessarily implicated in these factors.”

We now have an art form that “moves.” It can change and evolve with society. In Greenberg’s opinion, this is what justifies the avant-garde’s methods and makes them necessary. However, a problem exists. The avant-garde can only exist through the patronage of the “rich” who support them. As that patronage shrinks, so do they. What does this mean for the future?

Next time, we’ll look at what Greenberg has to say about kitsch and its relationship to the avant-garde.

What are your thoughts?

Art and Culture

2011-08-05T08:24:00.001-04:00

Art and Culture: Critical Essays
By Clement Greenberg (1961, 1989)

Part 1: Culture in General, Section 1: Avant-Guarde and Kitsch

Image: Clement Greenberg, 1909-1994

A book discussion on this blog is long overdue! So, let’s begin another. I’ve chosen Art and Culture: Critical Essays (1961, 1989) by Clement Greenberg, the distinguished American art critic.

In this book, the author addresses the following topics:
Culture in General
Art in Paris (various individual artists)
Art in General (primitive through modernist art)
Art in the United States (various individual artists and movements)
and, Literature (I probably won’t review this section)

A review by the Washington Post appears on the back of this book: “This book should be read by anyone who is interested in modern painting and is willing to look at its spectrum through the vision of a tough-minded, rightfully opinionated critic.”

Another review appears by the New York Times: “Clement Greenberg is, internationally, the best-known American art critic popularly considered to be the man who put American vanguard painting and sculpture on the world map … Jackson Pollock’s triumphant international recognition is also a triumph of this critic’s courage, eloquence and creative sense of action .. . An important book for everyone interested in modern painting and sculpture.”

And, so we’ll begin with Part 1: Culture in General, Section 1: Avant-Guarde and Kitsch.

According to Greenberg, the avant-guarde and kitsch are both on the order of culture and products of society. But, are they related? And, from what perspective can we view culture to see that relationship? Perhaps, he postulates, the answer is found through the examination of the relationship between aesthetic experience of the individual and the social and historical contexts in which that experience takes place. And, that’s where the author leads us … in my next post.

Are you interested?

I paint because ...

2011-07-31T18:22:00.006-04:00

Very recently, a notable fine art museum curator decided to spend time with my new series, The Laws of Nature, which now includes fourteen paintings. Her questions were astute and delving: my developmental history as an artist, what I paint, how I paint, and ... especially, why I paint. At the end of her examination of me and my work, I was astounded by her praise and proclamations of "genius." I don't think of myself in that way, nor will I ever.

We artists typically view our work in a more practical way. We LIVE in, through, and by our artmaking. It's not our second nature, it's our first nature. We can't imagine life any other way.

Explaining myself compelled me to think about this a little more:

I paint because ...

I can't effectively express what I really want to say in words or music,
I see everything in pictures,
I must paint,
My life is incomplete if I don't paint,
I've always painted

You paint because ...

What's in a Name?

2011-07-22T06:13:00.003-04:00

Fourier's Law
by Katharine A. Cartwright
Watercolor on Arches paper
26" x 20"

What's in a name? I began to think about this after reading your great comments yesterday. Influences upon our viewpoint about the relative value of art include not only outside "experts" and our own personal opinion, but also the title assigned to the work and (sometimes) the gender of the artist if the full name is revealed.

The title of a work of art often influences what we think we see and also the overarching concept that the artist wishes to convey to viewers. But, there are times when the title doesn't match what I'm getting out of the painting or sculpture. So, the name (title) can be confusing. For instance, my own work based upon the laws of nature led me to interpret each law according to what I see in my mind's eye. No one else has that viewpoint, so why would anyone look at the painting shown in this post and remark: Hey! That's Fourier's Law! Nope ... it wouldn't happen.

So, I must consider the importance of the names (titles) of my works. In this instance, they're essential. But, should that be the case? What would happen to my series (which is a comment on man's inability to create the perfect machine because of the limitations imposed upon us by the natural laws) if I named each work "Untitled"? I doubt that anyone would get it.

And then, there's my own name to consider. For this series of paintings, I decided to sign them all "K. Cartwright" because either sex could have created the work and it shouldn't matter which. Viewers are influenced by the sex of an artist when considering relative value and the "seriousness" of the artist.

So, it seems to me that names are very important when it comes to fine art.

What do you think?

Who's to Say?

2011-07-18T06:16:00.003-04:00

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose by John Singer Sargent

Thanks for all your substantive comments to my last posts! I want to pick up a thread laid down by our good friend Robin . She wrote: I always wonder who determines how meaningful one's work is anyway, but I guess if it matters to at least one person (me) that's enough. This is a good point to explore.

Who does determine if our work is meaningful? As Robin suggests, it does begin with the artist her/himself and then perhaps at least one other person who “gets it.” Generally, we often look to directors, curators, critics, and art historians to identify the meaningfulness of works of art. But, those influences are extrinsic to the individual experience of just standing before a work of art and connecting with it.

In March 2010, we discussed here Robert Henri’s book “The Art Spirit.” In it, he writes: The man who has honesty, integrity, the love of inquiry, the desire to see beyond, is ready to appreciate good art. He needs no one to give him an art education; he is already qualified. He needs but to see pictures with his active mind, look into them for the things that belong to him, and he will find soon enough in himself an art connoisseur and an art lover of the first order.

I think that’s really the bottom line. The discovery of meaning is a subjective experience and one that can’t be left to outside influences if it’s to be real. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve read (or heard) from an expert about the importance and meaning of a work of art before actually seeing the original in person. Unfortunately, I can’t forget what the expert said when I finally get to the museum, but I do try to personally connect and shake off the voices of others.

Then again, when we go to museums, we are automatically influenced by the notion that the works of art in it are meaningful and important enough to be archived and displayed in a building worth millions of dollars. And, works of art appear in newspapers and magazines with articles written by “experts” who dissect them for meaning.

But, maybe we need experts to tell us what we can’t learn on our own. Or, maybe we need only to heed Henri and make the whole thing subjective.

What do you think?

Your Contribution to the Dialogue

2011-07-16T11:05:00.003-04:00

Painting by Richard Diebenkorn

Frequently, I ask my workshop students to consider how their work contributes to the global dialogue of art. This means examining their work for its purpose. Does it truly reflect their own view of the world or is it imitative? The former lends authenticity to the work and has the best possibility for contributing to the dialogue. Each artist has something unique to share, even if the medium and techniques are traditional. What we have to say and how we say it are essential, in my opinion, to creating work that is truly meaningful.

I was never taught this in college, or even in any of the art workshops I took years ago. We students were given assignments that led to the mastery of technique and little attention was given to helping us develop our unique viewpoints. I never thought about it much until fifteen years ago. That made all the difference. I make no claims toward greatness, only that my work truly reflects how I see and think. That’s satisfying.

Recently, I saw a painting in a nearby art museum that had several technical flaws, but the overall effect was intact anyway. The viewpoint of the artist spoke to me and evoked a feeling. So, I started to wonder about the importance of the technical aspects of the painting. I’ve always felt that the best way to effectively dialogue through my art is to eliminate as many technical errors as possible so the viewer doesn’t miss the message. Then again, artists who are only technicians bore me to death. There’s a fine line there, somewhere.

What do you think?

Return and Other Things

2011-07-14T18:56:00.005-04:00

Images: (left) workspace in studio (middle) extended view of studio (right) gallery wall in studio

At long last ... I'm back!! Our move to our now permanent home in Maine was epic in proportion. Not only did we move during the worst winter in recent history, but we had to install heat in the house first and also complete the interior of my studio (which is in a building separate from the house). Now ... after seven years of waiting ... we also have access to high speed internet and so I can rejoin the blogosphere.

Many, many thanks to all of you who emailed me during my long absence to encourage me to return to our wonderful discussions. I'm looking forward to reuniting with you (big smile).

Many great things have happened during the past few months: lots of teaching (concept development in art and technique) and lots of really terrific students, painting sales at an all time high, public speaking, and several shows (some solo) now and next year. It's exciting and rewarding.
Now, onto more important things. Lately, I've been thinking about the importance of wearing blinders as I continue to paint the "Laws" series. It's so easy to get distracted by other ideas or even succumb to the influence of works/ideas by other artists that appeal to me. I've always had to battle the distractions, and the further I get into a series the more myopic my artistic vision becomes. Is that helping or hindering me? I'd like to think that it's helping, but maybe it's retarding my creativity.

Edward Hopper once said: I find in working always the disturbing intrusion of elements not a part of my most interested vision, and the inevitable obliteration and replacement of this vision by the work itself as it proceeds.

How about you? What keeps you on track?

Simple Explanations and Your Tax Dollars

2011-04-06T07:09:00.012-04:00

Occam's Razor by Katharine A. Cartwright Watercolor on Arches paper 26" x 20" If two theories predict phenomena to the same accuracy, then the one which is simpler is the better one. Moreover, additional aspects of a theory which do not lend it more powerful predicting ability are unnecessary and should be stripped away. The simplest explanation for my extended absence from blogging is lack of high-speed internet access. Moving to Maine has only one "down side" and that's it! Time-Warner won't string cable to our home, Hughes satellite is too expensive and unreliable, Verizon's MiFi doesn't get a signal, and local WiFi access is a fifteen minute drive. So, I'll post when I can and apologize for not visiting your posts!! In the midst of settling in to our new home, I managed to add this painting to the "Laws of Nature Series." My interpretation of "Occam's Razor" is that the "singularity" that theoretically gave birth to our universe is the simplest possible explanation for the laws of physics. Our complicated and elaborate attempts to modify what naturally occurs leads to chaos and can only be imperfect. So, the razor cuts through our efforts to reveal the primordial singularity in the ancient sky. I intend to stick with this new series for at least five years and will interpret all the laws I've already painted and visit some new ones. There's always room for improvement and new ideas. On another note, I'd like your opinion about public support for the arts. I was having dinner with some folks the other night and someone made the comment that he didn't want his tax dollars used for the arts. I strongly disagreed with him for many reasons, but would like your opinions. Should public funds be used to support artists and art projects? Why or why not? To what degree?

Adversity and great art

2011-03-26T06:10:00.001-04:00

Sincere thanks to all of you who wished us well during our recent move from NY to Maine! We arrived at our new home a little over a week ago and are settling-in. Although there’s still a great deal left to do, we’re comfortable. A new buyer for our NY home appeared within one week of relisting the house, so now we’re awaiting a new closing date. That’s a relief!

We had hoped to persuade the cable company to run wires here so we can access high speed internet. Being unsuccessful, we’re subjected to the glacial pace of modem and dial-up, which explains my absence from the blogosphere. Wifi access is available at the library about a half-hour away, so I’ll take advantage of that every now and then.

I’ve begun a new painting in my series “The Laws of Nature.” It’s entitled “Occam’s Razor” and should be completed within a week. There’s more pressure to produce now, since I’ve been offered a solo show in May. Somehow, between now and then, I need to complete ten more paintings!

This leads me to the theme for today’s blog: the importance of adversity.
Since we have no access to TV yet (another long story that involves Direct TV and its inability to provide us with someone to install the satellite dish that still sits in its box in our garage) we watch old DVD’s. I have the complete set of all six seasons of “Northern Exposure.” Near the beginning of season three is an episode about Ed’s discouragement with his film-making. General store-owner, Marianne, advises Ed that adversity is important for the development of great art. Without it, artists cannot significantly improve their work. That’s been my experience about everything, but that’s probably because I’m one of those people who seem to mostly learn from trial and error.

How about you?

What I have learned & Moving day

2011-03-14T17:50:00.004-04:00

Thanks, all, for your wonderful comments to my posts. My last post, Understanding Art, included a comment that challenged me. Our good friend, Mark Sheeky, asked me “After years of analysis Kathy I wonder what you understand about art?" That’s a great question and one that deserves an answer.

My answer is contradictory: I’ve learned that I know very little about art and also all there is to know. I know little of the entire history of art, the myriad of materials and techniques used in all art forms, and the personal lives of artists past and present. There’s an ocean of information and my knowledge is just a drop in that ocean.

On the other hand, I know all there is to know about my own artmaking: I know why I paint, what I paint and how to paint it. I know my own world and can navigate it. In practical terms, that’s all I really need to know. (Sorry for all the "I's")

So, why bother to spend years reading about and discussing art theory?It's to satisfy my need to expand my understanding of my chosen profession. I no longer want to function as an artist in a vacuum, and need to connect with the art community and its roots. I’m curious. This has been a satisfying experience that has lead me to all of you! How great is that?

*****************************

Personal update: We’re finally moving to our home in Maine on Wednesday (16th). We would have moved earlier, but were waiting to close on the sale of our NY home. Just a few days ago the purchaser backed out (only one week before closing!). We were upset, but have learned to make lemons out of lemonade and are moving on. The house is back on the market and in the good hands of our realtor and a friend. It'll have to sell without us.

So, Wednesday is moving day followed by settling-in. I’ll try to check in whenever possible. Thanks for staying with me over the years and during my frequent absences. You’re all so dear!

Understanding Art

2011-03-12T22:32:00.001-05:00

It’s mind-boggling how many books, essays, and articles have been written to instruct others on how to understand art. Analyses of technique, composition, materials, meaning, etc number as many as the stars in our galaxy and yet we seem to need more of them every year. Art has been put under a microscope. Although we artists hope our work will draw attention, but do we really need someone to act as an intermediary between our creation and its viewers? Do we really need someone else to explain to the public that which our art naturally speaks for itself?

One could argue that we all need to be educated into understanding art. Certainly that would be true for learning about materials and techniques. Perhaps it’s also helpful to the viewer to learn about the circumstances surrounding the creation of a work of art, and many analyses offer this type of instruction. Since I spent most of my career as an academic, I can’t argue against instruction. But, as an artist, I want my work to speak directly to viewers without the interference of an intermediary.

And, when you think about it, who really understands “art” anyway? I like this quote from an Ezine article by Redi Zartey:

Understanding art in its totality is almost an impossible task for a human being. There are over 3,600 terms in art to be understood. And these are not definitive in nature. Art is when you are free to redefine these.

What’s your opinion?

Painting Workshops: The Season Begins!

2011-03-09T01:03:00.006-05:00

A brand new season of painting workshops will soon begin, and I’m ready to teach. Yippee!! For me, the season begins in May and ends in October. Venues are spread from coast to coast (California to Maine) and I’m always thrilled to work with new and returning students.

My lessons in painting match my personal philosophy: All great paintings begin with a great concept, and that concept must come uniquely from the individual artist! It’s all about helping my students find their own voice and then effectively expressing it in a way that’s technically masterful. It doesn’t matter to me which medium my students select, it only matters that they’re willing to engage in original and meaningful artmaking.

It’s taken me awhile to develop a good method for helping my students to find their own voice, but it really works. I challenge them to tap into their own relationships with the world around them and apply their intuition and imaginations to their interpretations. This means turning away from imitation and strict copying of photographs.

What I really love about teaching is witnessing how my students respond: lightbulbs turning on! I never grow tired of it, and am anxious to begin the new season. So, materials are being packed, airline tickets are being purchased, and anticipation builds as I look forward to working with a whole new batch of students.

If you’re interested in enrolling in one of my workshops, the schedule is listed here: www.kacartwright.com.

Come join us!

"Starving Artist" - Myth or Fact?

2011-03-02T10:31:00.004-05:00

Lately, I’ve been interested in finding facts about the status of professional visual artists in this country. Is the “starving artist” a commonplace condition or a myth?

This led me to the NEA website where one may access their publications on this topic and more. To see the list and read the research publications, go here.

Research Report #48 Artists in the Workforce: 1990 - 2005 (which is a follow-up of Research Report #37 Artists in the Workforce: Employment and Earnings 1970 – 1990) provides us with a scenario based upon statistics from census data. Therefore, Americans who declared their primary career as “artist” make up the data base for this report. “Artist” includes all forms of art (e.g. literature, theater, music, visual arts, etc) but I’ve chosen to focus upon the visual arts in this report. We are listed as “fine artists,” which is defined as “art directors; craft artists; fine artists include: painters, sculptors, and illustrators; multi-media artists;animators.”

Here are some interesting findings about the state of professional fine artists in the USA between 1990 and 2005:

Population
We make up 11% of the total population of artists in this country between 2003 and 2005, which is a total population of 216,996. (Designers are 39%, Performing Artists 17% Architects 10%, Writers/Authors 9%, Producers/Directors 7%, and Photographers 7%). The total population of artists in all categories numbered nearly two million.

Between 1970 and 1990, the number of artists [in all categories] more than doubled from 737,000 to 1.7 million—a much larger gain than the labor force as a whole—but between 1990 and 2005, the number of artists grew by 15.7 %, compared with a 17.4 % increase for the overall labor force.

There have been shifts among artist occupations. Between1990 and 2000, the number of artists grew by 11.6%, an increase of about 200,000 artists. Over that period, the number of designers rose by 130,000 while the number of fine artists decreased by 47,000. Between 2000 and 2005, the number of designers again increased, this time by about 30,000, while the fine artists continued to decline by another 15,000.

Geography
Not surprisingly, most artists during this time lived in California, New York, Florida, and Texas. On average, in 2000, there were 68 artists for every 10,000 people and 8 of those were fine artists. However, in Vermont and New Mexico, 15 were fine artists, followed closely by Hawaii and Montana with 10 or more.

As you would expect, opportunities for employment as an artist are greater in metropolitan areas. Half of all artists live in major cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago. But, the homes for fine artists are (in order of highest to lowest population):

Santa Fe, NM
San Francisco, CA
Santa Rosa, CA
Los Angeles-Long Beach,CA
New York, NY
Barnstable-Yarmouth, MA
Stamford-Norwalk, CT
Santa Cruz-Watsonville, CA
Fort Collins-Loveland, CO
San Luis Obispo-Atascadero-Paso Robles, CA

It looks like we mostly like to settle along the East and West Coasts.

Gender , Age, Race, and Education

I was unable to find the statistics for these categories in the “fine arts” so the following statements apply to artists in all categories:

Artists in all categories are more likely to be men than women.

In 2000, the median age of artists was 39, the same as the median age of the U.S. labor force, both up from 37 in 1990. As the baby boomers aged, the median age rose to 40 by 2005, for artists and for the labor force as a whole.

In keeping with the labor force as a whole, most artists are white, but again like the labor force, the artist population is quickly becoming more diverse.

Artists have higher education levels than the labor force as a whole. In 2000, 51% of artists had bachelor’s degrees or a higher level of education, compared with 26% of the U.S. labor force and 64% of professional and related occupations. In the 2003-2005 data, over 5 % of artists had bachelor’s degrees or higher, suggesting that the proportion of artists with degrees is rising.

A report of the American Community Survey, 2003–2005 indicates that Fine artists, art directors, and animators had a total population of 216,996, 47.4% of are women, 15.8% are minorities, 44 is the median age of the population, 25.7% are under the age of 35, 51.2% have a bachelor’s degree or higher, and 5.8% are enrolled in school.

Employment and Income
Compared with the American labor force as a whole, artists are much more likely to be self-employed. Almost one-third of artists were self-employed in 2000, compared with less than 10% of the labor force. About half of fine artists and writers were self-employed.

The 2003-2005 data indicate that the numbers of self-employed artists are increasing, with 35% of all artists self-employed, and each artist occupation showing more than 20% self-employed.

Compared to other professionals, artists are less likely to report full-time employment in their field (more than 35 hrs/wk and 50 wks/yr).

In 1999, the median income for fine artists was $25,000/year. By comparison, the median income for artists in all categories was $30,000/year.

The median income for artists in 2003-2005 was $34,800, or $29,700 when adjusted for inflation to represent 1999 dollars. Full-year, full-time artists earned $45,200 (unadjusted) while the median income for full-year, fulltime professionals was $52,500. Producers and writers who worked full time had incomes above $50,000, and the median income for full-year, full-time architects was higher, at $63,500. For the 45 percent of artists who did not work full time all year, however, the median income
was $20,000. The 2003-2005 median income for all women artists was $27,300, or 65 percent of the $42,000 median income for all male artists.

A report of the American Community Survey, 2003–2005 indicates that among Fine artists, art directors, and animators 51.5% are full-time full-year workers, 55.6% are self-employed, 39.0% are in the private for profit employment sector, the median 2005 income is $30,600, for men that income is $37,800 and for women that income is $22,600. The median income for full-year, full-time workers is $42,800 (51.5% of fine artists).

Returning to my original inquiry about the “starving artist” image it seems that it is a myth – at least for men. It looks like women must live on a much smaller income that can’t support a reasonable lifestyle in an urban area where most artists live. So, women tend to fit the "starving artist" image. But, you can form your own conclusions.

What are they?

The Pyramid

2011-02-27T05:16:00.007-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Image: Composition VII, 1913 by Wassily Kandinsky

The Pyramid

The comments to my last post over the past week are well-worth a second and third reading. They reflect some profound truths and insights that transcend many of the best art theory books I’ve read and I’m grateful to those of you who have taken the time to write them!

Since I began reviewing this book exactly one month ago today, I’ve been captivated by the responses of my readers to it. Many of us appreciate and even revere the ground-breaking work done by this pioneer artist. WK’s rebellion against the traditional extrinsically-sourced art that preceded and surrounded him gave rise to what we artists do today. It allows us to freely express who we are as individuals – the intrinsic source of inspiration.

But, many of us are turned-off by Kandinsky’s elitist notions. The existence of a hierarchy among artists (whether or not it’s real) is especially abhorrent to us Americans who operate outside the social class system. We consider ours a land of equal opportunity and our philosophy negates the possibility of class by birth. At the same time, we recognize that some achieve to higher levels than others. It’s a fact of life. However, what is the source of the highest level of achievement in art? Is it genetic? God-given? Hard work and determination? I don’t presume to know nor would I guess at an answer.

This leads me to the last part of the first section of WK’s book: “The Pyramid.” Here, the author addresses all forms of art. He writes that in his day, the arts contain “in each manifestation … the seed of striving towards the abstract, the non-material. Consciously or unconsciously they are obeying Socrates’ command – Know thyself.” Because of this, WK notes that there is a convergence among the arts – a “drawing together” of process and purpose. Most notably, he compares music and visual art, which interests me a great deal since music, along visual art and also science, have been my professions.

“With few exceptions music has been for some centuries the art which has devoted itself not to the reproduction of natural phenomena, but rather to the expression of the artist’s soul, in musical sound,” Kandinsky writes. So true! Late in my somewhat mediocre career as a pianist, I hired a concertizing coach. Her constant admonition was to paint with my music – add colors that represent the moods of my soul. It made all the difference in my performances as well as in my paintings.

He adds: “This borrowing of method by one art from another, can only be truly successful when the application of the borrowed methods is not superficial but fundamental…. The artist must not forget that in him lies the power of true application of every method, but that that power must be developed.” Here is the real challenge! When we examine our motivations as an artist, what do we find to be fundamentally true? What should be fundamentally true? And, how dedicated are we to developing it? Here, WK reminds us that art is a discipline and that it requires real work, beginning at the psychological level.

Speaking to readers of his own time, Kandinsky writes “Painting today is almost exclusively concerned with the reproduction of natural forms and phenomena. Her business is now to test her strength and methods, to know herself as music has done for a long time, and then to use her powers to a truly artistic end.” Amen!

In the next section of his book, “About Painting,” WK turns his attention to color theory, form and color, and other matters. That’s where I’ll begin next time.

What are your thoughts?

P.S. To those of you who have been following the events of my life, here's an update: We've moved all of our possessions (except for one mattress) to our home in Maine as we await the closing date on our New York home. So, we're camped out on that mattress in an empty NY house for at least two more weeks. All of my art supplies are in storage, but my mind is at work. Hubby is still recovering from his surgery six weeks ago and should be approaching normal in another three weeks. Meantime, we've had record snowfalls, so I've been doing a lot of shoveling!!

Revolution

2011-02-21T13:32:00.005-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Image: Jaune Rouge Bleu by Wassily Kandinsky

Returning to Kandinsky’s book, I’ve begun the next section entitled “Spiritual Revolution.” Any revolution involves rebellion against a prevailing condition. In this case, WK identifies the prevailing condition as the masses who inhabit the lowest level of the spiritual triangle (discussed earlier). These are the unimaginative, uninspired, hypocritical, economic Socialists according to Kandinsky. Those who inhabit the levels directly above this group are only slightly “better.” By contrast, those few at the top of the triangle are the spiritually creative problem-solvers who value science and art. It is from this lofty position that the rebellion is launched against the prevailing condition of the levels below.

But, the leaders of the rebellion are insecure. They know history, and therefore understand that visionaries are first revered and later reviled by society. Rejection is the ultimate reward. They struggle with their role and become tentative. What saves them? Their souls.

The artist owns the spirit of the future. The artist can tap into inner truth and reveal it. WK writes: Literature, music and art are the first and most sensitive spheres in which this spiritual revolution makes itself felt. They reflect the dark picture of the present time and show the importance of what at first was only a little point of light noticed by few and for the majority non-existent. Perhaps they even grow dark in their turn, but on the other hand they turn away from the soulless life of the present towards those substances and ideas which give free scope to the non-material strivings of the soul.

Artists speak through their own spirits and to the spirits of others. The connection, therefore, is purely on a spiritual level and not a material one, according to WK. Somehow, this seems too simplistic. After all, art is also an industry. It’s assigned a monetary value and traded as a commodity. Art and money are conjoined.

Although my distillation of WK’s dense text is somewhat overly simplified, his argument rests on the notion that some artists (the geniuses at the top of the pyramid) lead the rebellion against the uninspired, unspiritual legion of others whose influence demands conformity. As the rebellion gains strength, others on levels below join it.

But, if the rebellion succeeds, doesn't the new condition become the "norm"? Does this mean that the inspired at the top of the spiritual triangle become the condition of the lowest portion of the next triangle? (Remember Kandinsky’s discussion on the movement of the triangle.) At one time, the Impressionists were at the top of this triangle. Now, there are a host of imitators. Impressionism today is ordinary and passe’. Or, is it?

Kandinsky was a revolutionary in art. No doubt about it. But, he has a myriad of imitators today. Are they unenlightened??

What do you think?

Kepler's First Law and Other Universal Principles

2011-02-20T02:16:00.007-05:00

Kepler's First Law
by Katharine A. Cartwright
watercolor on paper
26" x 19"

The orbit of every planet is an ellipse with the Sun at one of the two foci.

Somehow, in the midst of moving, I've managed to complete another painting in my series The Laws of Nature. Painting keeps me sane, even if the results seem a little insane. I think the word is therapeutic. Although I haven't had the chance to return to Kandinsky's book, I continue to ponder his ideas and motivation. Is the act of creating art always therapeutic for the artist? Is this a universal condition? I'll test that notion over the next month since all of my art tools and materials are now in storage until this moving transition is complete. This will be the longest period that I haven't painted and I wonder how it will impact me. Will I resort to thumb-sucking? At least I still have my sketchbook.

What does artmaking do for you?

What is the future of art, now?

2011-02-06T09:32:00.003-05:00

Sometimes it’s good to step back and reflect. This is one of those times. I’m truly enjoying the challenge of reading Kandinsky’s short but dense book (or, maybe I’m the one who’s dense). In either case, it’s time for reflection. Our good friend Casey Klahn commented on my last post about the future. He wrote: “For Kandinsky, the representation of the same objects again and again was the past, and pure abstraction the future. What is the future, now?”

Great question: WHAT IS THE FUTURE OF ART, NOW?

Personally, I think the future is controlled by whoever is steering the ship.
Do visionary artists, art critics, or marketing geniuses control the future of art?

Will artists of the future, who now directly exhibit and market their work through the internet and self-publishing, control the future direction of art?

Will grass roots level artists, like me, ever have any opportunity to steer this ship, or will we remain passengers in the cargo hold?

What do you think?

I’ll be away for the week to make the last preparations to move into our winter wonderland home in Maine (image) and will check in now and then if I’m lucky.

Kandinsky, Moses and the Golden Calf

2011-02-05T06:19:00.002-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Image: Painting With White Border, Wassily Kandinsky, 1913

Part 1: The Movement of the Triangle

I’ll complete this section of the book today so we may move along to his next section about the “spiritual revolution” of his time. In the last two posts, we discussed Kandinsky’s hierarchical segmented triangle in an attempt to classify artists, their works and viewers. Vertical mobility up and down the triangle occurs over time as artists feed upon their own psyches for inspiration or starve. Of course, WK places himself and his work in the apex segment of this triangle, a place reserved for innovative geniuses who are misunderstood and ridiculed. This is a lonely place, indeed.

Wrapping up this section, WK complains of the dark periods in art when spirituality is lost in favor of materialism. He writes: “At such times art ministers to lower needs, and is used for material ends. She seeks her substance in hard realities because she knows of nothing nobler. Objects, the reproduction of which is considered her sole aim, remain monotonously the same….. Art has lost its soul.” He continues, by adding “In the search for method the artist goes still further. Art becomes so specialized as to be comprehensible only to artists, and they complain bitterly of public indifference to their work. For since the artist in such times has no need to say much, but only to be notorious for some small originality and consequently lauded by a small group of patrons and connoisseurs (which incidentally is also a very profitable business for him), there arise a crowd of gifted and skilful painters, so easy does the conquest of art appear. In each artistic circle are thousands of such artists, of whom the majority seek only for some new technical manner, and who produce millions of works of art without enthusiasm, with cold hearts and souls asleep.”

This, of course, leads to unhealthy competition between artists as they fight to be at the top of the heap and leave in their wake a confused public. Despite these negative forces at work in the art world, WK optimistically believes that the spiritual triangle continues to move upward over time. There is no holding back true spiritual advancement in the arts. He attributes the cause for this upward advance to those artists who occupy the apex segment and, from time to time, descend from their lofty perch like Moses descending from the mountain, to impart wisdom to the worshippers of the golden calf. At first, the voice of the visionary who resides in the apex isn’t comprehensible to these lower artists who only replicate what they see and focus on technique. But, eventually some begin to understand and follow the call to aim for expression of their “finer feelings.” A spiritual awakening occurs when artists express internal truth.

And so, this section of WK’s book concludes. His dogmatic form of expression is a little off-putting but I agree with the central message which is core to my own teaching. I am a child of Kandinsky’s ideas. I do believe that the concept, or idea, behind the work is far more important than reproduction, materials, and technique. Unique and meaningful art comes only from authentic individual expression of the artist’s ideas – not how well he/she can use materials or make a rose look just like a particular rose. So, I’m grateful to WK for his ideas and for stridently defending them.

What do you think?

P.S. Please excuse my infrequent attention to this blog. We’re in the final three weeks of moving to our new home in Maine during a terrible winter and my husband is recovering from a difficult operation at the same time. It’ll take me awhile to sort out everything, but I’ll try to keep up.

The Movement of the Triangle, continued

2011-02-03T07:56:00.005-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art by Wassily Kandinsky
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Painting: Aglow byWassily Kandinsky

Part 1: The Movement of the Triangle

This section of Kandinsky's book is most difficult to navigate, and yesterday our good friend Wm. Cook correctly reminded us to view WK's words in light of the time and circumstances in which they were written: Here it is a hundred years later looking back on a guy who stood at the forefront of one of the main cultural shifts of human history. It was a left brain to right brain shift, and is still going on, thankfully. Indeed, this was a major shift in artistic expression. External sources of inspiration for the artist had been dominant (e.g. landscapes, portraits, physical objects, etc) and now artists like Kandinsky began to turn inward to find their inspiration. The psyche was the source of spiritual food for their work.

As I continued through this dense text and WK's elaborate explanation of the spiritual triangle I got bogged down. So, the scientist in me emerged to handle it and I drew a diagram of what I think Kandinsky means. Here it is, and here's my explanation:

The apex of this triangle represents the highest level of spiritual achievement for an artist and the base of it is the lowest. At each level, I've indicated three conditions:

1. the artist's source of inspiration (external or internal)

2. the artist's work on the basis of how much it's understood by others

3. acceptance by the viewers on the basis of popular opinion about the artist and his/her work.

On the lowermost level of this triangle resides the least spiritually developed artist whose works are inspired by external references that are easily recognizable to viewers and gain wide popular acceptance.

As the levels progress toward the apex, artists depart more and more from external references and become more inspired by internal ones (their thoughts and emotions). Progressively, the audience understands less about the work and so it's not as popular.

In the apex resides the most spiritually developed artist whose works are entirely inspired by internal references that are unrecognizable to viewers and unaccepted, even ridiculed. Only a few visionary prophets from lower levels can recognize the genius in these works.

As WK advances his philosophy, he writes of the "spiritual food" that sustains artists at each level. This food can act either to nourish or poison the artist. If the artist eats too little of it, he can sink to a lower level on the triangle. And, if he eats too much of it too quickly, he'll drop like a rock to the lowest level. My interpretation is that this food is introspection. If we tap into ourselves enough, we'll create unique and meaningful art. If we aren't introspective enough, our work will become shallow or vacuous. If we are too introspective we'll go nuts and our creativity will be destroyed. At least, that's my interpretation of all this.

Those of you who have read this book might want to offer another opinion. I'll digest this awhile before moving on to the next paragraph!

What are your thoughts?

Triangles and Webs

2011-02-02T09:09:00.003-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Painting: Gelb Rot Blau byWassily Kandinsky

Part 1: The Movement of the Triangle

Kandinksy begins this chapter by comparing the “life of the spirit” to an acute triangle that is divided along the horizontal into segments that become narrower toward the apex. Each segment of the triangle from base to apex represents a state in the artist’s spirit, understanding, and situation. Without going into the numerous spiritual iterations offered by WK, I’ll focus on his central idea:

“The greater the segment (which is the same as saying the lower it lies in the triangle) so the greater the number who understand the words of the artist.” Therefore, those artists who have moved into the apex segment are least understood through their works. This smallest of segments is usually occupied by only one artist – a misunderstood visionary. This artist is doomed to loneliness and ridicule that commonly besieges those who are misunderstood. The only ones who can understand and appreciate them are those few “prophets” who occupy lower segments and see beyond their own limitations. These are the ones who help “the advance of the obstinate whole.”

This philosophical fabrication, like the Aristotlean Ladder, stands only because of its oversimplification. Before I move further into this text where WK embellishes this construct, I’d like to explore what I think he means.

Kandinsky saw himself as a visionary – a genius. He felt alone. He felt that only prophets could recognize his genius. This may all have been reality, but it was also self-imposed. It’s human nature to feel misunderstood and alone. But, it’s not helpful. Artists are particularly vulnerable to this feeling and it’s a pity.

I see artists existing in a network, a web-like structure. All of us share this web; we’re interconnected. I don’t believe that what we produce is “equal.” Some, obviously, are more innovative than others and their work becomes historically significant and, therefore, more valuable to society. If someone is isolated, it’s because they want to feel isolated. That’s how it seems to me.

What’s your opinion?

Four Categories of Artists

2011-02-01T07:21:00.005-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Painting: Painting with Three Spots, Wassily Kandinsky, 1914

Part 1: About General Aesthetic

Although I’m only three pages or so into this section of Kandinsky’s book, it’s apparent that he has rejected materialism in favor of primitivism in order to connect with what he feels is worthy of artistic expression: our innermost thoughts. Anything external to that is a distraction and, in his opinion, evil. Taking an extreme approach may be distasteful to most people and seemingly unrealistic but I think WK needed to do this in order to find focus and innovate. So, I’ll continue reading.

Kandinsky instructs us about the motivations of artists and viewers through contrasts. He categorizes them:

1. Artists who use their work for the purpose of spiritual enlightenment. Schumann’s definition: “To send light into the darkness of men’s hearts – such is the duty of the artist.” These artists produce (usually commissioned) allegorical work from an external source.

2. Competent artists (technicians). Tolstoy’s definition: “An artist is a man who can draw and paint everything.” Kandinsky notes that the works of these artists evoke admiration from viewers for their skill, but are lacking spirit. He writes, “But hungry souls go hungry away.”

3. Artists who produce “art for art’s sake.” Viewers of these works find them “pretty” or “nice” but vacant of meaning. According to Kandinsky, these artists are sell-outs who paint just for material reward and to satisfy vanity and greed. This leads to competition, over-production, hatred, jealousy, and so on.

These first three categories of artists, according to WK, produce “barren art.” He writes, “This art, which has no power for the future, which is only a child of the age and cannot become a mother of the future, is a barren art. She is transitory and to all intent dies the moment the atmosphere alters which nourished her."

And then, there’s the fourth category of artists and viewers:

4. Artists whose work springs from the spirit of contemporary feeling, which is capable of educating further. This work is uplifting and meaningful to its viewers.

Clearly, WK supports this fourth category and values it above all others. He’s an idealist and I admire his ideals. We may argue that any form of idealism is too limiting for something as nebulous as “fine art.” But, that’s up to the individual artist. In forming a philosophy, Kandinsky’s concern was not with commercial success, but with the spiritual aspect of his artmaking. Most of us professional artists must be concerned with commercial success in order to support ourselves. And, this is where Kandinsky finds fault with many artists: seeking commercial success compromises the creation of spiritually authentic work.

It IS a struggle. These two competing forces pull me in opposite directions as I struggle to keep my work spiritually pure. So, I think WK has a point but I can’t adopt his strict philosophy. After all, I am the product of this time, place, and culture. My concerns are uniquely my own.

How about you?

What's worthy of expression?

2011-01-31T08:14:00.003-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Painting: On White II, Wassily Kandinsky, 1923

Part 1: About General Aesthetic

Moving on past the first two paragraphs of this section, Kandinsky expresses his despair over the “harsh tyranny of materialistic philosophy” that “divide(s) our soul sharply from that of the Primitives.” These diametrically opposed entities are defined as the difference between being purely external with no future (materialism) and being internal containing the seed of the future within itself (primitive). This philosophical distinction should be interpreted within the context of Kandinsky’s psychological transition at the time.

Disenchanted with the effects of materialism, Kandinsky saw it as the catalyst for the expression of the basest human emotions and behavior. In contrast, removing oneself from the pursuit of materialism awakens the “subtler emotions” that, when expressed in a work of art, “give to those observers capable of feeling them lofty emotions beyond the reach of words.”

Before moving on to the rest of Kandinsky’s explanation, I’d like to explore this part. I’m interested in Kandinsky’s fascination with the Primitives. He seems to equate “primitive” with “simplicity” - an unsophisticated and uncomplicated state. Apparently, without the complications of our materialistic society we artists could more easily tap into ourselves to reveal our “lofty” emotions. Kandinsky elevates our emotions to the noblest level, worthy of artistic expression to the exclusion of all else.

At least, that’s how it seems to me at only three pages into his short book. Kandinsky looks to our motivations in artmaking. He challenges them and looks for value or worth. So, what is worthy of artistic expression? What do you think?

Revivals, Soullessness, and Depth

2011-01-29T16:21:00.004-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

Painting: Harmony Tranquille by Wassily Kandinsky, 1924

Part 1: About General Aesthetic

Kandinsky begins this section with Every work of art is the child of its age and, in many cases, the mother of our emotions. His point is that art is produced within a culture at a specific time that can never be replicated. Therefore, a revival of any past art form is a dead exercise since we can’t relive the past.

This is so true. About a decade ago, while I was still teaching at a nearby liberal arts college, I witnessed the revival of the hippie culture. My students began to wear knock-off clothes from the 60’s and adopted the language and attitudes. However, they had no understanding of the time and our disillusionment with the war in Viet Nam, the “establishment,” the sexual and drug revolutions, and the push for civil rights. We lived in a riotous time of fear and passion that these students hadn’t experienced. I remember standing before a class and asking them “What would you die for? What cause do you care so much about that you would give your life for it?” They looked completely confused and had no answer. They didn't understand.

Similarly, Kandinsky points out that our art must reflect our time. We can’t relive the past and we can’t revive the past in a meaningful way. It is impossible for us to live and feel, as did the ancient Greeks, he writes. In the same way those who strive to follow the Greek methods in sculpture achieve only a similarity of form, the work remaining soulless for all time. Such imitation is mere aping.

Nevertheless, the human condition is timeless. There are internal processes and emotions that transcend time and inform artists throughout the ages. It is these “fundamental truths,” as Kandinsky puts it, that link us with the past and are worthy of revival and expression.

When we think of works of art that are deemed a “masterpiece” it seems that they must possess two characteristics: technical mastery and a depiction of some aspect of the human condition. These works evoke emotions from viewers of all ages and cultures. They reflect what we all experience: love, hate, vengeance, lust, solitude, companionship, disease, hopelessness, hope, and so on. This statement may be too general, but there’s an element of truth in it.

I’ve covered only the first two paragraphs of Kandinsky’s first chapter but it’s enough to reflect upon for awhile. When I look back on my body of work, I need to consider its depth. Depth … an important and interesting word.

What are your thoughts?

The Birth of a Philosophy, Kandisky's transformation

2011-01-28T06:01:00.002-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
by Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

image: painting by Kandinsky

Continuing where I left off (the introduction written by the translator, Sadler) it’s interesting to learn about what transformed Kandinsky’s early work into “groundbreaking” work. Changing careers and moving to Munich to study painting in the 1890’s was critical to this transformation. At that time, younger German artists had broken free of the academy-dominated art world and began a new style called Jugendstil, noted for its simplified abstraction and beauty. Therefore, Kandinsky was able to simultaneously engage in traditional painting at the university and the avant-garde art practiced by his contemporaries. This was an important influence on his later painting style and philosophy.

Rather than discussing all the details of Kandinsky’s professional life, I’ll run through the transformations in his work as he developed his distinctive and original personal style:

Initially, the Jugendstil influence led him to interpret fairytale narratives with bright colors. A little later, feeling the need to travel extensively, Kandinsky was exposed to the early exhibits of the Fauves which had a lifelong impact on him. According to Sadler: in their paintings, he saw the liberation of color, and the artist spent the rest of the decade absorbing and incorporating the implications of this freedom in his art.

This led to a major breakthrough for Kandinsky when he moved back to Munich in 1908 at a mountain resort. There, he combined Fauvist color with the primitiveness and directness derived from his Russian heritage. At first, he produced expressionist landscapes and then moved into abstraction. During this time, Kandinsky aligned with the group Der Blaue Reiter because their focus was to express their inner selves rather than conform to a single style. The artist stated: I value only those artists who really are artists, that is, who consciously or unconsciously, in an entirely original form, embody the expression of their inner life; who work only for this end and cannot work otherwise. Thus, Kandinsky’s artmaking became a search for spiritual reality through art and his philosophy was born.

We’ll delve into part one of his philosophy next time.

Reading this progression in Kandinsky’s philosophy made me wonder more about my own evolution as an artist. There are some major influences, but I can’t quite put my finger on more than one or two “aha!” moments. I’ll have to spend more time reflecting on this.

How about you?

Concerning the Spiritual in Art

2011-01-27T06:21:00.003-05:00

Concerning the Spiritual in Art
By Wassily Kandinsky
Dover Publications, 1977
Translated by M.T.H. Sadler

It’s time to review another book! I’m reading Concerning the Spiritual in Art written by the famous nonobjective painter Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944) as an explanation of his theory of painting. The book is divided into two parts: part one is “a call for a spiritual revolution in painting that will let artists express their own inner lives in abstract, non-material terms” and part two is a discussion of “the psychology of colors, the language of form and color, and the responsibilities of the artist.”

Today, I’ll begin with some background information provided by the book’s translator, Sadler. Most of you already know that Kandinsky was born in Moscow to an aristocratic family and was raised in the Russian Orthodox faith, which influenced him during his entire life. Successful in academics, he studied political economy and law at Moscow University where he was appointed lecturer in jurisprudence. By the time he was thirty years old, he was offered a professorship at another institution and turned it down to travel to Munich to study painting. Quite a change in direction, but a little predictable since he had been fascinated with the arts since childhood.

In 1895, Kandinsky was profoundly influenced by an exhibition of the French Impressionists in Moscow. When he saw Monet’s “Haystack” he said: “I had the impression that here painting itself comes into the foreground; I wondered if it would not be possible to go further in this direction.” So, that’s why he moved to Germany to study painting.

I’ll stop at this point in Kandinsky’s life in order to reflect upon the importance of early influences coupled with opportunity. This artist was very lucky to have been born to wealthy parents who provided ample support, education, and exposure to many art forms from his earliest years. Often, I’ve reflected on how much my parents encouraged me to become an artist, even before I entered kindergarten. Likewise, there was a specific painting that made me imagine what could be if I pursued art as a professional.

How many of us have a similar story to tell?

Imagination and The Box

2011-01-25T16:51:00.004-05:00

Image on right: The First Law of Thermodynamics by K.A. Cartwright, watercolor on paper

“Imagine” is the most powerful word I know aside from the word “love.” It’s essential to artmaking and the process by which we conceive ideas for our work. Webster’s defines imagine as the ability to form a mental image of something that is not present or that is not the case.

Joseph Joubert once stated that “Imagination is the eye of the soul.”

Muhammad Ali said “The man who has no imagination has no wings.”

and, Napoleon Bonaparte felt that “Imagination rules the world.”

The power of imagination cannot be overstated. For artists, it’s our greatest and most essential asset. So, I’m wondering why we often choose to underutilize this asset. Here are a few self-imposed reasons:

1. Inhibitions and fears
2. Biases and prejudices
3. Lack of confidence in one’s own imagination (which leads to conformity and imitation)
4. Unwillingness to expand one’s horizons to learn about more possibilities
5. No sense of adventure

Perhaps you can add to this list.

Since childhood I’ve indulged my daydreams. I think they deserve lots of my time although only a small fraction of my imaginings become works of art. But, being a daydreamer as a child was difficult. Teachers, and sometimes parents, scolded us children to stop daydreaming and pay attention; to "get our heads out of the clouds." It’s as though society conspired to beat the imagination out of its children so that we would all think alike and “behave.” We grew up to become unimaginative adults and then face the confusing task of contributing to “think tanks” when we enter the work force. “Think outside the box” is our mantra. Well, who built the box and put our imaginations into it??

Where is the key to unlocking this box? We’ve had it in our hands all along. As adults, we control how much or little we use our imaginations and our art reflects our choice. My persoanl fault is in allowing inhibitions to interfere and that’s something I’ll continue to work at.

Our old friend, Anonymous, once said that imagination is intelligence having fun. Are you having fun?

Chasing rabbits and losing direction

2011-01-20T18:18:00.004-05:00

Have you ever spent years working on just one series of paintings and then abandoned it? I have, many times. The "All Cracked Up" series (image) includes over fifty works in watercolor, acrylic, and oil that took five years to complete. I've sold all but a dozen of them and decided that was enough. Well ... never say never. Lately, a lot of folks have shown interest and so now I'm considering returning to it, or at least working at it on the side while I continue to paint "The Laws of Nature" series.

Most of you are probably thinking: "duh!" OK, I admit to being a little dense but I like to compartmentalize my creativity so that I don't get lost in it. I think we all have more ideas for paintings than time and energy. It's easy to chase a whole herd of rabbits down their maze of individual holes and lose focus. I used to do that when I started painting, but soon learned to hone in on one or two ideas and do them well.

There is no one correct approach to artmaking, so it's really a matter of finding a process that matches how we think. I can stick with the same series for at least half a decade and not get bored. There's always something new to "say." Other folks would find this tedious and a creativity killer.

Now that I have so little time to paint, I have time to think about the next steps. I think these steps will be working on my new series while resurrecting two previous series. I'll chase three rabbits and, hopefully, not lose direction.

What's your process?

"European definition of art is absurd"

2011-01-18T07:43:00.004-05:00

Recently, I was reading an article in “The Art Newspaper” online entitled “European definition of art is absurd.” (click on title to read entire article) Of course, any article with that kind of title catches my attention since we’ve spent so much time on this blog discussing what IS and ISN’T “art.”

The catalysts for this European controversy are two video works installed at the Haunch of Venison contemporary art gallery: Hall of Whispers, 1995, by Bill Viola (image) and Six Alternating Cool White/Warm White Fluorescent Lights Vertical and Centred, 1973, by Dan Flavi. Last August, the European Commission determined that these works of art are merely equipment. That is, they are “DVD players and projectors” as well as “light fittings” and not “art” at all. Naturally, this meant that the works were subject to higher taxes and customs duty rather than a greatly reduced rate that would normally be applied to art when it’s imported for exhibition. But, the money really isn't the issue.

The real issue is what makes something a work of “art”? Defenders of the “this is art argument” state that “it is the content recorded on the DVD which, together with the components of the installation, provides for the modern art”. Personally, I agree because I believe that the artist’s intent is critical to making something a work of art.

However, the Commission “rejected the classification as sculpture because it is not the installation that constitutes a ‘work of art’ but the result of the operations (the light effect) carried out by it.” The author of the article asks: “Does this mean that if a Flavin is switched on, it is a work of art, but if switched off, it is not?” Good question!

You may read the rest of the article yourself to get all the details. I’m just getting to the heart of the controversy and speculating about what this decision means for artist and art in general. Do artists who use electronics as a medium fail to make art? I mean, does the medium really matter? I just use paper, canvas and paint. Louise Nevelson used scraps of wood she found on the street – parts of old chairs, desks, tables, and crates. Isn’t that art? What’s the difference here?

P.S. Sorry for the long absence. Hubby had operation, house is up for sale since he just retired and we're moving to Maine, and lots of other stuff going on!

A Rose is Not a Rose

2011-01-10T18:42:00.013-05:00

My job is to see what other people have seen and to find something new in it. I heard this on a video about scientists the other day and wrote it down because it applies to artists.

There’s plenty of redundant subject matter in art. Here’s the typical list for paintings: landscapes, seascapes, flowers, portraits, still-life settings, allegorical and historical scenes, and non-objective. Most of us can say “been there, done that” when it comes to these subjects. But, the reason these subjects are so popular throughout time is because that’s what people want to see. So, how can we continue to produce artwork and avoid pointless redundancy? By, as the scientist stated, finding something new in what everyone else sees.

For example, many paintings of roses exist. But, here are some unusual examples that best illustrate that these artists were able to find something “new” in a rose:

by Georgia O'Keeffe

by Wayne Theibaud

by Salvidore Dali

Years ago, I became aware of the fact that I was only painting “pretty pictures.” There was no substance, no unique viewpoint, and no indication that I had anything important to add to the dialogue of art. This realization occurred during my first semester of studio painting in college three decades ago. The professor commented that my work was worthy of a department store and not much else. It was unoriginal and ordinary - vacuous. His comment was critically important to making me realize that I was a technician and not an artist. I had great painting technique – and that was all.

It’s taken a long time for me to find my voice and express it effectively in my paintings. I see it as a life-long quest and look to my dear friend as a role model. She’s an 84-year-old sculptor/painter. Each year, without fail, she expands her repertoire by creating something entirely new that expresses her unique ideas. Her work appears in venues around the world every year as she pushes it out the door. She’ll persist until she takes her last breath. I aspire to this, myself.

What about you?

Self-censorship and Fine Art

2011-01-07T15:15:00.003-05:00

In this country, censorship is a controversial act. On the one hand, it’s used to protect society (especially children) from that which is deemed too violent, lewd or indecent. On the other hand, the act of censorship infringes upon our guaranteed individual rights and freedoms. In the world of fine art, censorship is extremely controversial because the artist’s freedom of expression is valued to a certain extent. So, society is more tolerant and even outraged when artists are censored on occasion.

Extrinsically imposed censorship isn’t today’s topic, however. Instead, I want to focus on intrinsically imposed censorship. That is, how and why do we artists choose to censor our own work? Do we adopt the same standards as external censors? How do we censor our work? And, why?

Shock artists specialize in rebelling against imposed standards. In the grand scheme of things, they are few in number but they do push and even blur the boundaries that define fine art. Although it seems ridiculous today, remember the controversy that surrounded John Singer Sargeant’s painting Madame X? A single strap fallen from the shoulder of a married woman was scandalous! He was forced to repaint the strap back up onto the shoulder. Today, no one would give it a second thought. So, the line between what is moral and “decent” and what is not is ever moving. It’s subjective and changes with time. Artists from all disciplines are frequently the catalyst for this change.

So, when we self-censor our work, are we artists guilty of inhibiting the advancement of the arts? Does advancement necessarily occur by challenging the social norms? I often think about this because the status quo is so comfortable, but if I want to grow artistically I have to shake up my world. I need to question it.

For instance, I have uncensored thoughts all the time. But, before I speak, write, or draw them I make them more socially “acceptable.” I think about whether or not my thoughts will offend others and modify the expression of them to something more palatable. I’m polite. Maybe, too polite. Should I be?

Furthermore, if I find self-censorship to be necessary for my own work, will I impose my standards on the works of others? Should I?

What do you think?

Do Unto Others ...

2011-01-05T07:01:00.004-05:00

In previous posts I’ve spent some time discussing how to handle criticism of our work. It’s important to know how to filter through criticism to keep only the useful stuff. That’s an acquired skill. Budding artists tend to either accept all criticism or reject it all out of frustration. Neither choice is beneficial for advancement. Since I’ve covered this ground many times, I’ll move on to a more difficult topic: criticizing the work of others.

There’s a time and place for criticism, and carelessness can do irreparable harm. Budding artists need a lot of encouragement, so expert criticism needs to be truthful but also carefully delivered to avoid discouragement. And, even “expert” opinions can be wrong, which means that all criticism needs to be qualified when it’s given.
Over the years, I’ve met a lot of people who claim to lack artistic ability altogether. When I ask them why they think that, the typical response is that a parent or teacher told them so when they were children. How tragic! Every human being has an aesthetic side that can be beautifully and effectively expressed in some way if recognized, nurtured, and given the chance.

So, I’m more worried about criticizing others than I am about receiving criticism. How will my words impact that person? I’m not implying that my opinion is important at all, but some people respond like it is. I try to limit my artistic opinions to those times when someone actually asks for them and let them know that my opinions are just that – only my opinions.

Back in the 1960’s I was an art major at a private school. My instructor delivered brutal critiques because she felt she had a duty to prepare me for the “real world.” I’ll give her credit for making me tough-skinned, but I never encountered that type of brutality anywhere since then. If my instructor had been less brutal I probably would have been more experimental and confident in my work. This held me back, and I don’t want to do that to anyone else. You never know whose flame you might accidentally extinguish!

What are your thoughts today?

Art in the Attic

2011-01-04T06:30:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I confessed that stored in my attic are paintings that I’ve deemed unworthy for public viewing. They’re all works that I painted with conviction and enthusiasm. However, my intentions didn’t always work out or, when they did, I felt the work was too personal. The one posted here is a good example. It’s entitled “Measured Life at 51” and is part of my annual series of self-portraits. This one was done years ago during my second round of chemotherapy. I was fed-up with measuring everything: food, drink, medications, my weight, and so on. Measuring became tedious and a constant reminder that I was ill. I’m pretty certain that no one would want to purchase this work and hang it in their living room! So, it’s in my attic.

This has led me to question my judgment about what’s “good” or “bad” art. Is there really such a thing as “bad” art? I’ve decided to explore this a little more.

According to the Museum of Bad Art in Dedham, Massachusetts, bad art is “art that is created with the best of intentions, but gone horribly wrong." I’m not certain what they mean by “gone horribly wrong,” but it might mean that art critics and the general public would find it amateurish or offensive. When I look at some of the work posted online by this museum that seems to be the case.

But, there must be more to it. Tolstoy wrote a lot about art, and expressed strong opinions on “good” versus “bad.” In a nutshell, he wrote that good art is intelligible and comprehensible while bad art is unintelligible and incomprehensible. Among my attic paintings are works so esoteric that Tolstoy would label them as “bad.” Maybe he has a point. Is the purpose of visual art to communicate? Is that the purpose of all the arts?

By extension, how important is the artist's intended message? The viewer won't necessarily interpret it the way the artist intended. If there's miscommunication, does that make the art "bad"? I don't think so.

Can art ever be “bad” if what makes it art in the first place is the intention of the artist? What do you think?

Irony

2011-01-03T09:38:00.003-05:00

The history of art includes notable artists who defied established social norms in order to freely express themselves. They were willing to live in poverty for awhile or even permanently and found their place in the world of fine art by unconventional means. For instance, Jean Michel-Basquiat (photo) and Al Diaz began as graffiti artists on buildings in Lower Manhattan, working under the pseudonym SAMO. At that time, their artistic vision was more important to them than social approval or money.

Most of the rest of us are less radical. While we want unrestricted creativity, we also need to support ourselves in a manner that keeps us from living on the streets as beggars. So, we artists find ourselves in an ironic situation where we want to be free of social constraints but we also need society’s approval and support. We like to think that the opinions of others and the marketplace don’t affect our creative expressions, but they do. Isn't it ironic?

I’ve had to find a middle ground – a place where I can express my thoughts and also make them acceptable enough to find patronage. Does this make me hypocritical? No, because I openly admit it and I do like and believe in the art I'm making. But, what would I create if financial and social constraints were completely absent? I suppose the answer to that is all the art that's stacked up in my attic that no gallery or patron would touch. Maybe future generations will find value in it and maybe it will see the light of day.

How about you?

The Elevator Speech

2011-01-02T07:28:00.006-05:00

Most of us have written an Artist’s Statement (AS). If you look online for advice about how to write such a statement, you’ll find so much information that it’ll make your head spin! Therefore, no single way of doing this exists. However, some approaches are better than others.

What most interests me is the first sentence in an AS. It's the most important sentence because it will either capture the reader's attention or be the reason they stop reading. A great first sentence encapsulates the primary reason that the artist creates art. It also reveals why the artist has something unique to offer.

Just for fun, I decided to take a look at some of the AS's that are posted on line. Here are a few examples of just the first sentence:

My artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues.

My artwork explores how camouflaged political controls filter our understanding of history and relinquish our ability to accurately observe and respond to current socio-political events.

First, my work is about color and texture - relationships, contrasts, and blends.

The process of painting has always been so much more valuable to me than the completed product.

I gather, collate, re-use, layer, peel, burn, reveal, locate,
question, duplicate, play and photograph.

My work was influenced in the early 1960's by the New York School of abstract expressionists, including Jackson Pollock, Willem deKooning, Hans Hoffman, and Robert Motherwell.

These first sentences are really the same as an “elevator speech.” If you haven’t heard of one before, it's the short statement you make to a stranger who asks about what you do before you arrive at the intended floor. Of course, this speech isn’t limited to elevator encounters. I’ve had to use it at cocktail parties, chance meetings, and often when introduced to someone. Usually, people don’t care because they’ve heard too many people claim to be artists and it doesn’t seem like a credible profession to them.

Because most people won’t listen beyond a sentence or two, the wording is important. It must capture their interest and reflect something they can relate to and understand. Brevity is a must.

Admittedly, I’m no good at this. The first sentence of my AS explains why: My natural tendency is to think in images rather than in words, and my paintings are expressions of those thoughts. It would be a lot easier to SHOW people what I do rather than explain it. After all, I am a “visual artist.”

In reality, most people ask us what we do only to be polite – to break the ice. Usually, they don’t really want to know and they certainly don’t want a long detailed explanation. But, it would be great to find something to say that would capture their interest. So, I’ll continue to work on my elevator speech – or – maybe I’ll just respond with “I create whole new worlds with paint and paper.” They’ll either identify me as the lunatic that I am and get off at the next floor, or they’ll be intrigued enough to ask me to explain.

In one sentence, how would you best describe who you are as an artist and/or what you do?

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T07:51:00.001-05:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR to all and best wishes for a year filled with joy, good health, and prosperity!!

It’s good to be “back” and time for reflection and future planning. This blog began in May 2009 and today is my 260th post. In that time, I’ve reviewed a dozen art theory books and we’ve had some rip-roarin’ discussions that have greatly enhanced my understanding. I’m grateful to all of you who, through your participation, have helped me gain a broader perspective by generously sharing your own. My intent is to keep on keepin’ on!

The past three weeks have been devoted to a big change in my life. “Hubby” just retired and we’re in the process of selling our NY home in order to move to Maine. We’re exhausted from sorting through our possessions and fixing up the house. However, most of the work is done and now it’s a matter of finding a buyer. So, now I’m free to return to my studio and the blogosphere. Yippee!!

I’ve packed up all my art theory books and moved them to Maine, so my source material will change for a little while. But, that’s not a problem since there’s so much to think about anyway. Today, I’m inspired by the New Year and what it could bring. When I think about how to proceed, I’m reminded of a quote attributed to Pablo Picasso:

What one does is what counts and not what one had the intention of doing.

Truly, this applies to artmaking and to the art of living. So, my New Year’s resolution is to put hands and feet to my intentions more frequently. Picasso’s wisdom coupled with the old adage that “procrastination is the thief of time” reminds me to get going! My intentions will die with me, but the results of what I’ve done will live on. I’m off to the studio …

What’s your New Year’s resolution?

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

2010-12-14T14:37:00.003-05:00

Peace, Good Health, and Prosperity to ALL this holiday season.

THANK YOU for wonderful "conversations" in 2010, and for your friendship.

I'll be back in January!

Art - Order - Society

2010-12-13T07:09:00.001-05:00

Art as Experience
By John Dewey (1934)

Image: The Holy Virgin Mary by Chris Ofili

We live in a world in which there is an immense amount of organization, but it is an external organization, not one of the ordering of a growing experience, one that involves, moreover, the whole of the live creature, toward a fulfilling conclusion. Works of art that are not remote from common life, that are widely enjoyed in a community, are signs of a unified collective life. But they are also marvelous aids in the creation of such a life. The remaking of the material of experience in the act of expression is not an isolated event confined to the artist and to a person here and there who happens to enjoy the work. In the degree in which art exercises its office, it is also a remaking of the experience of the community in the direction of greater order and unity.

Here, Dewey offers us a view of the dynamic and symbiotic relationship between society and art. Order is imposed upon art by society and art provides greater order to society. I have never considered this relationship in these terms, but it makes sense to me. After all, artists are part of society and also influence it. Works of art are deemed worthy or unworthy by society, but they also have the ability to influence and mold future generations of societies.

Does this mean that the individual artist is charged with the moral and ethical responsibility to create work that imposes greater order and unity upon the community? My personal opinion is “no.” I think it’s our responsibility to create according to our own conscience – to be our authentic selves. Society will judge whether or not our work contributes or detracts from the general order; whether or not our work serves to unify or divide us.

But, that’s just my opinion. What’s yours?

ARTIST TO ARTIST: An Interview with Matthew Daub

2010-12-05T09:32:00.022-05:00

Dear Readers,
The next distinguished artist in my series “Artist to Artist” is Professor Matthew Daub, a renowned artist, author, and teacher. You may remember that we discussed his wonderful article “The Gift of Persistence” previously on this blog. I am delighted to learn that this article has been nominated for a Folio Award, a national competition in the magazine industry. Matthew is a finalist and the awards will be announced in January!

What follows is some background information about Professor Daub, the interview, and upcoming events for this notable artist. Enjoy!

ABBREVIATED BIOGRAPHY
Matthew Daub’s watercolor paintings and conte crayon drawings have been widely exhibited throughout the United States for over three decades. He has had more than twenty one-person exhibitions at galleries and museums in New York, Chicago and elsewhere. Daub works have been included in numerous invitational exhibitions at prestigious institutions such as The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The American Academy of Arts and Letters, The Bronx Museum of the Arts, and the National Academy of Design in New York City. In 1991 The Metropolitan Museum featured a Daub watercolor in their annual engagement calendar, “American Watercolors.” In 2004 He completed a large commission of site specific work for The Four Seasons Hotel and Resort in Jackson, Wyoming. He has been a Professor of Fine Art at Kutztown University of Pennsylvania since 1987. He is also the director of Arts Sojourn, an Italian travel group, and a contributing editor for Art Calendar Magazine. He is represented by ACA Galleries in New York City and will be having his next one person show there in April of 2011.

Matthew’s website: www.matthewdaub.com

Recent works by Daub:

(click on paintings to enlarge)

Left - Burn Barrel, 2010, Transparent watercolor on paper, 30" x 40"

Center - Four Way, 2010, Conte crayon on paper, 26" x 40"

Right - The Evening of the 23rd, 2010, Transparent watercolor on paper, 30" x 40"

THE INTERVIEW

KC - As an artist, what label do you apply to the type of work you do?
MD - I am primarily a landscape painter, and I suppose I would classify it as sharp focus realism, although I don’t think that gives too complete a picture.

KC - Have landscapes always informed your work or is this a recent inspiration?
MD - I believe I have always been moved by the landscape.

KC - What materials do you prefer to use and why?
MD - Just simple stuff really: For watercolor an assortment of Winsor and Newton Artist Series paints and Series 7 brushes. I’ve recently started using Creative Mark Rhapsody Kolinsky brushes as well. They are great brushes for the price.

KC - What do you see as the significance of your work?
MD -That’s a tough question, but I would say that the significance of my work is that it honestly reflects one human being’s inner life. It is how I see and feel about the world around me. I think that it is a small thing, but there is some value in that.

KC - I’ve noticed that your landscapes often don’t include human figures but do include the effects of human influence upon the landscape. Is this a specific comment?
MD - I used to include figures in the landscape regularly, but when the human figure is included it sets a much different tone. Some artists seem to use them as “props;” compositional devices. I don’t go for that. A figure needs to have something to say. Perhaps that’s why I usually eliminate them. I don’t want the viewer trying to feel things through the experience of the figure. For now, I see them as intruders.

KC - When did you first self-identify as an “artist” and what inspired you to do so?
MD - I always had some sense that art had a place in my life. My mother was a commercial illustrator and she allowed me to paint with her when I was a very young child. It is one of my most vivid childhood memories. My father was a grocer, but he was well-read and taught himself to play the piano. Art and creativity were never discouraged in our house.

KC - I, too, had the benefit of parental encouragement and support in the arts. However, neither of my parents were artists. Do you think that your mother’s profession as a commercial illustrator influenced your art?
MD - My mom had stopped working before I was born, as so many women of the 1950’s did. It was probably more some genetic material and the pleasure that both my parents took in seeing me draw that pushed me in that direction.

KC - What was your first "big break" as an artist and how did it come about?
MD - My first big break came from a New York Gallery that I showed with in the early eighties. It was a good place for a realist painter to be at that time and the gallery received a lot of attention from critics, curators, and collectors. The dealer also worked very hard to promote the gallery artists' careers. The gallery started going down hill in the nineties and the dealer turned out to have some serious problems (I'm being kind and diplomatic), but my career really advanced in those early days.

KC - Your work has appeared in world-class galleries and museums over the years. For most artists, these venues seem unobtainable. How did these opportunities come your way?
MD - My first museum show was at The Evansville Museum of Arts and Science in Indiana in 1983. It came through an introduction to the museum director that I received from another artist whom the director knew and respected. It was not something I asked for; this artist just liked my work and called the director. My show at The Reading Public Museum in Pennsylvania in 2001 was something that I sought out on my own. It was my "home" museum at the time and I had never shown in my own backyard, so to speak. I called on the director, but first received the brush-off. I pushed a little further and got him to have a look. When he saw what I was up to and how it related to the museum's constituents he became an enthusiastic supporter. Same thing with my current gallery. I had known of them for many years, they represent well-known artists, and have a reputation for being straight shooters, so I sent an introductory package to them. You have to be proactive in this business.

KC - You’re a Professor of Fine Arts at Kutztown University. What made you decide to pursue an academic career in the arts?
MD - Well, I had my MFA, but I had pretty much decided that I would not teach. I was doing well in the early eighties and my career seemed to be on the rise. I happened upon the Kutztown job posting and it appealed to me - being close to New York City where my primary gallery was located and Kutztown was looking for a watercolorist - a rarity in academia.

KC - In your opinion, what’s the role of academia in the fine arts today?
MD - I believe that it is very important. It provides an opportunity for intensive, prolonged and methodical study that includes a background in art history and at least some introduction to theory and art movements. Knowledge is always good. You can choose what works for you and what doesn’t.

KC - What are your general goals as a teacher?
MD - I really see my role as more of a mentor to my students - an example. I want them to see that a lifetime in art is not a waste of time. It may be a difficult life on some levels, but there are also great rewards. I try to treat my students as friends; young artists who are simply some years behind me on the continuum. I strongly believe in teaching fundamental skills, but not easy answers. Each artist must stumble his or her way to discovery. That’s the only way that an artist can develop their own personality, both technically and conceptually. It thrills me when I see my students doing things that I never taught them.

KC - Returning to an earlier question, it’s clear that both of us had the advantage of parental support that allowed us to adopt the identity of an artist at a very early age. You’ve taught thousands of students over many decades. Do you detect a difference in the students who had early parental support in the arts and those who did not?
MD - I can’t really say, but I have seen many students conflicted because their parents discourage them from pursuing a fine art career. There are students who enroll in the art education or commercial art programs to please their parents or because they think it is the only way they can survive even though they are not excited about those fields.

KC - What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?
MD - Probably by my mother when I had come to a crossroads prior to becoming a professor. I was about thirty years old and ready to look for another day job to support my family. I was not yet at the income level from my artwork for it to be our sole means of support. I told my mom that I was going to apply to be a waiter, but my mom suggested that I try and go full time with my art. “You have clients and you have paintings,” she said, “Why don’t you give it a try and if it doesn’t work out then you can be a waiter.” That’s what I did. It was a pivotal moment.

KC - Great advice! It looks like she was right and your career in the arts has flourished. For those of us who will never enter the academic arena as artists, do you envisage another lucrative career path in the arts that you could have taken?
MD - I had originally intended to become an automobile designer when I entered Pratt in 1969. That might have been an interesting career, but I have no regrets.

KC - Looking back on your distinguished career, is there anything you would have done differently?
MD - I sometimes wonder what might have been if I did not accept a teaching position back in 1987 and continued on solely in my studio career. I’d probably just be a lot poorer right now.

KC - So, what advice do you give to your students about how to support themselves as future professional artists? What are the odds of making enough income without taking on a job that provides a regular paycheck?
MD - This answer to this question is really too long and complex for an interview. The one thing that I can guarantee my students is that if they do not try they will not succeed - that's a definite! I tell them that someone WILL succeed - why can't it be you? Whether someone pursues a subsistence job to support an art career, or a career that will be more demanding, you can pretty much count on having to do something to supplement your art income; perhaps for your entire life. That's not necessarily a bad trade off to get to do something that you love. If I thought about "odds" or "success" I would probably have done something completely different with my life. My advice is, "Just do the work and do it with all your strength and with all integrity." There will be a place for it somewhere.

KC - Looking to the future, what’s next for you?
MD - I really don’t know. Right now I am still totally focused on an upcoming solo show in New York and there is no room in my head for anything else. Once a show is completed it is always a time for reassessment, so I’m sure that I will be doing a lot of soul-searching.

KC - Thank you for an engaging and enlightening interview!

Readers, you may be interested in Matthew’s upcoming events:

April 7 – May 7, 2011: solo show ACA Galleries in New York City’s Chelsea art district (529 W. 20th St. ; 5th floor). For more information you can check my website www.matthewdaub.com or ACA’s www.acagalleries.com

June, 2011: leading two trips to Italy this June through his Arts Sojourn travel group. Ten days in Lucca in Tuscany followed by a seven day trip to Sestri Levante on the Italian Riviera just above the Cinque Terre. Most people are opting to stay for both. For more information please visit www.artssojourn.com

November 2011: Workshop instructor for Springmaid Watercolor Conference. The class will be devoted half to art business issues and half to studio work.

Ongoing: Writing more articles for Art Calendar magazine, with special interest in artistic development.

Past, Present and Future

2010-12-02T09:30:00.002-05:00

Art as Experience

by John Dewey (1934)

To the being fully alive, the future is not ominous but a promise; it surrounds the present as a halo. It consists of possibilities that are felt as a possession of what is now and here. In life, that is truly life, everything overlaps and merges. But all too often we exist in apprehension of what the future may bring, and are divided within ourselves. Even when not overanxious, we do not enjoy the present because we subordinate it to that which is absent. Because of the frequency of this abandonment of the present to the past and future, the happy periods of an experience that is now complete because it absorbs into itself memories of the past and anticipations of the future, come to constitute an esthetic ideal. Only when the past ceases to trouble and anticipations of the future are not perturbing is a being wholly united with his environment and therefore fully alive. Art celebrates with peculiar intensity the moments in which the past reinforces the present and in which the future is a quickening of what now is.

This post is dedicated to all who face difficult transitions in their lives and art.

Capitalism, Museums, and Common Life

2010-12-01T07:50:00.004-05:00

Art as Experience

By John Dewey (1934)

“The growth of capitalism has been a powerful influence in the development of the museum as the proper home for works of art, and in the promotion of the idea that they are apart from the common life.”

This fact (if it is one) interests me because it’s a paradox. On the one hand, museums enable the general public access to great works of art that used to be exclusively housed in private palaces and mansions away from public view. On the other hand, museums also put a wall between the art and the general public by keeping it out of our common surroundings. This art lives apart from us and we're allowed to visit it under strictly enforced conditions: Look, but don’t touch. Look, but react in a constrained way. Look, but not for too long.

This leads me to speculate about how I would behave if the great art which I most cherish existed in my private home. Of course, for this daydream to work my home would have to be a palace because there are so many grand works, like the “David” and Jackson Pollock’s drip paintings, that would be included in my collection.

Let’s imagine that I own this art and the palace, and that no one but me and a select few have access. How would I act after everyone had gone home or off to bed? Hmm… just art and me. First, I’d probably touch all the work. Most likely, I’d do this because touching something intensifies the sensory experience. Viewing without touching isn’t satisfying enough. If the art is a sculpture, I’d probably sit or lay down on it so that my entire body could feel the contours of the work. And, I’d probably stay there a long time in order to “become one” with the piece and the sculptor who made it.

If the work is a painting, then I’d probably touch the surface of it and feel the ridges created by large daubs of paint, and the rhythms of the brushwork. This is beginning to sound like a sexual experience, and in a way it is. I’m connecting emotionally and physically with a work of art.
And, since no one else is in the room, I could act out my emotions: sing, dance, howl, cry. Yes, I would be a complete fool for art.

By contrast, when I go to a museum I’m very reserved. My emotions are present but hidden. It’s a rather unsatisfying experience, actually. Adoring something or someone from afar is frustrating. But it's better to have viewed with constraint then never to have viewed at all.

Taking this a step further, I think it would be a worthy goal as an artist to produce work that someone else would want to act the fool over; work that would inspire someone else to dance, sing, leap, or cry in the privacy of their own home.

How about you? And, what works would be in your private collection?

Fineness, Greatness, and the Medium

2010-11-30T06:15:00.004-05:00

Art as Experience
By John Dewey (1934)

Have you ever looked at a painting and marveled at the masterful technique used to create it – and, that was all you took away from it? I have. I’ve seen mind-boggling technically precise work that looked more like a machine produced it than a human. Every tiny detail is perfect and the entire work is nothing but tiny details. It’s apparent that the artist worshipped technique above all else. Yes, we do appreciate “fine” works of art like this, but they’re not “great.”

Yesterday’s post featured Dewey’s comment that art is fine, it is said, when form is perfected; but it is great because of the intrinsic scope and weight of the subject matter dealt with, even though the manner of dealing with it is less than fine.

We can extend this discussion to include the relative importance of the medium employed by an artist. What is it’s role? According to Dewey:
The medium is a mediator. It is a go-between of artist and perceiver. The artist has the power to seize upon a special kind of material and convert it into an authentic medium of expression.

Moreover,
Sensitivity to a medium as a medium is the very heart of all artistic creation and esthetic perception. Such sensitiveness does not lug in extraneous material. When, for example, paintings are looked at as illustrations of historical scenes, of literature, of familiar scenes, they are not perceived in terms of their media. Or, when they are looked at simply with reference to the technique employed in making them what they are, they are not esthetically perceived. For here, too, means are separated from ends. Analysis of the former becomes a substitute for enjoyment of the latter.

So, I would conclude that the weight of the subject matter trumps technique and medium.

What do you think?

Fineness and Greatness

2010-11-29T08:20:00.008-05:00

Art as Experience
By John Dewey (1934)
Image: The Potato Eaters, Vincent Van Gogh

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday! It's time to return to Dewey's book (and also to my diet and the gym). I've been pondering this passage and think it's a good one for discussion:

An attempt has been made to support the distinction between substance and form in works of art by contrasting “fineness” with “greatness.” Art is fine, it is said, when form is perfected; but it is great because of the intrinsic scope and weight of the subject matter dealt with, even though the manner of dealing with it is less than fine.

Are we to conclude from this that “greatness” (substance) in a work of art is more important than its “fineness” (form)? Does this mean that the artist’s primary concern should be weighty subject matter even if it’s at the expense of form?

I ask these questions because I’m confused by artists who value technique over content. While mastery of technique is a worthy goal and works of art that are technically perfect make our jaws drop, is it enough? Have these artists failed to meet a higher goal – that of self-expression? By this, I mean that perhaps, as famed art critic Arthur Danto believes, "For something to be deemed a work of art it must have meaning." By extension, we could infer that in order for a work of art to be deemed "great" it must have meaning.

What’s your opinion?

Foundation, Four Walls and a Roof

2010-11-22T13:01:00.004-05:00

Image: The Law of Conservation of Mass
by Katharine A. Cartwright, 2010
watercolor on paper

Our discussions of John Dewey’s text inspired me to evaluate the structure of how I teach painting to my students. In my last post I stressed the importance of coupling intuition with knowledge in order to control and advance our artmaking. This viewpoint is the foundation to what I teach. Here are the four walls built upon that foundation:

Wall 1: Concept development. I use a process that I've developed to help students find their own voice. This voice expresses their individuality and unique relationship with the world around them. Until the student artist knows what to express there’s little need to continue. Therefore, this is the first wall up.

Wall 2: Material selection. Once my student has an idea of what to paint and its significance to him/her, we begin the process of selecting the materials most suitable for expressing that concept.

Wall 3: Construction. Next, my students carefully consider the symbols, style, composition, and palette that best support the central concept of the work. This step unifies all the elements of the painting so that self-expression is focused and unambiguous. The voice of the artist is transformed from a mumble to an articulate audible voice.

Wall 4: The student paints. I show them how to master painting techniques in their chosen medium and also offer critiques that allow them to analyze their own work and make corrections.

Intuition is essential during the construction of all four walls. Without it, student artists won’t be able to express their own unique style in their own unique "language."

The Roof: Gaining perspective. Finally, I help my students gain perspective of where their work fits into the contemporary and historical art scenes. It is from this perspective that they begin to understand their place and how to advance.

This building process requires me to nurture creativity, impart analytical skills, and encourage artistic maturity. I suppose I learned this teaching style by realizing how I best learn.

How about you?

Art, Knowledge, and Intuition

2010-11-20T06:56:00.002-05:00

Image: sculpture by Andy Goldsworthy

It’s my hope that I can do a better job at unwrapping Dewey’s dense text (Art as Experience, 1934) because it’s well worth it. I say this only from the perspective of one who believes that knowledge is beneficial, and the more knowledge we have the more control we have over our work.

For the sake of justifying my position, I’ll place artists into three general categories:
1. Intuition-based
2. Knowledge-based
3. Knowledge-based who also rely on intuition

Artists who solely rely on intuition to create without a formal education in art probably have the better chance of achieving true originality in their work, but also have the smaller chance of being able to control the quality, consistency, and path of their work.

By contrast, artists who enter the arena via a formal education in art have a better chance of controlling the quality, consistency and path of their work but have the smaller chance of being innovative.

To me, the perfect blend is mixing together knowledge with intuition because it’s these artists who can evolve on a personal level, which leads to the advancement of the arts in the broader sense.

The bottom line is that knowledge is control; intuition leads to innovation; and, the blending of the two is the perfect state.

That’s my opinion … what’s yours?

Failed Theories and Context

2010-11-18T14:11:00.002-05:00

Art as Experience
by John Dewey (1934)

Image: sculpture by Andy Goldsworthy

Our good friend Casey was correct when he stated that Dewey is THE man when it comes to authority on this subject. So, let’s explore this book a little more. As you know, I’m not covering it chapter by chapter because it’s encyclopedic in scope. Rather, I’m cherry-picking quotations that I think will give rise to interesting discussions here. So far, Dewey has ignited a firestorm!

So, here’s more to consider: The theories that attribute direct moral effect and intent to art fail because they do not take account of the collective civilization that is the context in which works of art are produced and enjoyed. I would not say that they tend to treat works of art as a kind of sublimated AEsop’s fables. But they all tend to extract particular works, regarded as especially edifying, from their milieu and to think of the moral function of art in terms of a strictly personal relation between the selected works and a particular individual. Their whole conception of morals is so individualistic that they miss a sense of the way in which art exercises its humane function.

Go for it!

P.S. If you’re new to this blog and haven’t read the posts and comments from the past two days, please do. My readers made awesome comments! Please feel free to join in and WELCOME!

The Moral Function of Art, continued

2010-11-17T06:24:00.000-05:00

We had a great discussion yesterday and I think it deserves further consideration. It all began with a statement by John Dewey: the moral function of art itself is to remove prejudice, do away with the scales that keep the eye from seeing, tear away the veils due to wont and custom, and perfect the power to perceive.

This opened to door to some wonderful insights and observations posted in comments by my readers. Please take a look if you haven’t already. Dewey’s philosophy made us question our role as artists, and the historical role of our predecessors. Fascinating.

I’d like to use today’s post to continue that discussion because it’s too early to abandon it. So, please keep it going.

Now that you’ve had time to reflect, what’s your opinion?

Art as Experience: The Moral Function of Art

2010-11-16T04:12:00.003-05:00

Art as Experience
by John Dewey (1934)

We’ve had a lively discussion here over the past week and in the last post I polled my readers to see how many of you would prefer to continue the open discussion forum versus book review discussions. Most of my long-term readers encouraged me to continue the books reviews, so I will. However, I hope that you'll continue to feel free to discuss whatever concerns you about art. We learn from each other.

Over the past week I’ve been reading John Dewey’s seminal book on art theory entitled Art as Experience (1934). This book is based on Dewey’s lectures on aesthetics at Harvard, and is considered the most distinguished work ever written on the topic. You might think that it’s too dated since the book was written so long ago, but that’s not the case. He deals with timeless issues in the broadest sense.

I can’t begin to review this book in its entirety because it would take years. However, I would like to spend a week or two considering Dewey’s ideas on the things the most interest us.

I’ll begin by citing Dewey’s belief that the moral function of art itself is to remove prejudice, do away with the scales that keep the eye from seeing, tear away the veils due to wont and custom, and perfect the power to perceive.

We’ve spent a lot of time on this blog discussing the definition of art, but we haven’t explored the moral function of art. Perhaps it’s in that function that we may find a definition – one that encompasses the entire spectrum of what it is we deem as “art.”

In considering the moral function of art, we can also flip over this coin and explore what would be an immoral dysfunction of art (did I express that correctly??). By contrast, art would become dysfunctional if it’s confined by bias, intellectual blindness, tradition, and lack of imagination.

But, are we ever completely free of our biases and traditions in artmaking? Should we be free of them? Do these hamper or facilitate the progress of art (e.g. innovations)?

Is there a better description for the moral function of art?

Here’s something we haven’t yet considered on this blog. What do you think?

Community Discussion ... Day 5

2010-11-14T08:15:00.004-05:00

(right) sculpture by Andy Goldsworthy

We began Day 4 by considering Mark’s question: “If nobody likes a painting is it bad?”

Margaret started the discussion with the opinion that art, because it is a creative form of communication that reflects the thoughts of the artist, can’t be bad for that reason. However, one could find fault with the technical aspects of the work if it isn’t well executed.

Rhonda agrees with Margaret, and feels that judgment of another’s work is a sensitive issue because it’s so personal. However, she notes that the works of many artists were considered “bad” during their lifetimes but were deemed a masterpiece posthumously. Great point!

Dan brought up for consideration the works of contemporary pop artist Romero Britto, who has reached celebrity status and markets a host of products with his work on it. Dan ponders whether Britto is attacked because of jealousy over his popularity and financial success as well as his non-painterly style. That’s worth a second glance, because – as he points out – this is the converse of Mark’s question; Britto’s work is deemed bad because it’s popular.He concludes that popularity or salability are probably irrelevant anyway, and that very good art can remain undiscovered and, therefore, never communicate with others as the artist had intended. A sad conclusion, indeed.

Susan’s comment returns to an earlier question raised by Margaret about “serious” versus “fluff” work. She remarked that quick studies are more like fluff whereas a mature painting is well-considered and takes longer to produce (a.k.a. serious work). However, she values the look of spontaniety and struggles to keep that quality in her more serious work. I chimed in to say that we’re all saying the same thing: “good” art is authentic work. It all boils down to the artist’s intent.

Carolyn noted the way in which Kincaid’s work is produced and marketed. Mass production by laborers who copy his work with just one dab of paint by Mr. K. and a final signature is the result of what probably began as a sincere effort by him to produce meaningful art. As Carolyn notes, authenticity has been lost.

L.W. gave us an entirely new perspective on this issue because of her previous involvement in European/Asian oil painting imports. These works were the types used on the sets of theaters, films, and TV and sold for little money. Her conversations with the artists who produced these paintings revealed that at least one of the artists who relied on this form of income used a pseudonym on this work and his real name on his “real” work. This allowed him to support both his family and his talent (makes sense to me!). Like you, L.W., I believe that artists are entitled to make a living doing what they do best.

Celeste closed the day’s conversation with her mental weariness of repetition. So many works offer the same concept or mimic one particular artist. Trends occur and more sales occur because of them. So, she posits, if you produce a painting with no other thought than to sell it then it’s a “bad thing.” (lol)

This concludes our four day community discussion …. or, does it? Would you like to continue this? Typically, I review art theory books for discussion here. But, our conversation is just as good as many of these books so I’m willing to continue my role as a facilitator for your ideas if you wish. When the conversation wanes I’ll start reviewing books again.

If you wish to continue, either pick up one of the threads of a topic or propose a new one. So far, it’s been great!! Thank you.

Community Discussion ... Day 4

2010-11-13T07:27:00.004-05:00

We’ve reached day 4 of our experimental community discussion and I like where we're going! How about you?

We began yesterday's discussion by picking up on Dan’s topic about what spurs us toward expansion and growth of our art.
Here’s a summary of the responses:

I commented that since my process is concept-oriented, any advancement must come from intense introspection.

Elizabeth’s path began with learning a variety of media and techniques through instruction, but getting lost in technique at the expense of her “voice.” Finding it in the expression of the ridiculous and whimsical, she challenges herself to solve new and more challenging problems in artmaking.

Robin offers that every time we paint, we grow and learn something. Amen!! Her perspective is that we don’t always have to be pushing the envelope because art has a therapeutic and meditative quality that’s also important.

Celeste advances her work by taking two workshops per year, reading books, participating in blogs like this one, and also meeting with an art discussion group in her area on a weekly basis. She also goes to museums and watches artful programs on TV or DVD. Additionally she paints or draws every day. Sounds like a winning formula to me!

Susan returned to an earlier topic posed by Margaret about worthy vs. fluff work. She made a great (in my opinion) observation about the detrimental effects of doing quick work under time constraints which leads to work that lacks serious consideration. (Boy, I wish more folks would consider this point – it’s a good one!)

L.W. followed up on Susan’s comment by noting that quick sketching is a limbering exercise and not a serious drawing, which takes much longer. She applies this to the painting process as well, and is dicscouraged to find so many artists online that produce quickie small works for sale. The work is repetitious and boring.

Robin respectfully disagreed with L.W. since she repeats themes in order to further explore them, as did Monet with his lilies and haystacks.

L.W. responded that her intent isn’t to offend those who paint one particular subject, since she does it herself. It’s a matter of repetitious copying of previous work rather than exploring new ways to express the same subject.

This led Robin to ask a new question: Is it bad to want to paint htings that you know will be more salable?

I responded that my feelings are mixed. I wouldn’t deliberately produce work for the market, but at the same time I have sympathy for artists whose sole income is from the sale of their paintings. They have little choice but to find ways to support themselves, and that may include painting what’s popular. Hopefully, once they achieve financial independence they can produce authentic work instead.

Joyfulartist (do you have a name I may use?) posted a great quote from Bayles & Orland’s book “Art & Fear” – “The function of the overwhelming majority of your artwork is to simply teach you how to make the small fraction that soars.” (p. 5)

L.W. responded to the latter comment by Robin and indicated that she wants to sell her work, however she doesn’t have a large enough inventory to begin. (That’s a good topic for later!)

Mark offers that it isn’t bad to want to paint something saleable. After all, portrait paintings (e.g. George F. Watts) do this. He also asks if popular art is saleable art? And, is popular art good because it’s popular? By extension, if nobody likes a painting, is it bad? These are great questions to consider.

Community Discussion continues ... Day 3

2010-11-12T07:18:00.003-05:00

Our discussion is gaining momentum. Fantastic! Yesterday, Margaret got things started by expressing her concerns about producing worthy or “serious” work rather than fluff. In a simultaneous post (isn’t it funny how this happens?) Robin queried about what defines a “professional artist.” These two competing topics opened up two interesting pathways for conversation.

Here’s a recap of the responses:

Comments on Margaret’s question about “serious” work:

Meera offered that our passions should guide our work.
Robin agreed with Meera and added that it’s the only way to be true to our art.
L.W. reminded us of what a circus the professional art world can be, and to just “paint.
Hallie finds serious topics in Margaret’s work (as do I!) so it can’t be “fluff.”
Rhonda gave us insight into the fact that an artist’s work is serious if it’s heartfelt and an expression of one’s solo voice.
Carolyn has discovered the importance of content that springs from the roots of her soul in producing serious work.
Mark agrees with Carolyn and adds that it’s the artist’s intent that makes the work serious despite outside opinion.

Comments on Robin’s question about “professional” versus “amateur” artist:

L.W. offered the perspective that paid athletes can’t partake in the Olympics because they are considered professional. She expanded that to the IRS regulations in this country that require sales and deductions as a definition for a pro.
Hallie recounted many of the business responsibilities of a professional artist and decided it wasn’t her thing.

All this led to a new question posed by Dan:
What techniques do you all use to help spur expansion and growth?

Carolyn is spurred on by reading books on art techniques and experimenting.
Hallie agrees and lists a few great books to read.

Maybe we can continue discussing Dan’s topic today and then spin off into another area of interest.

Go for it! This is great.

Community Discussion continues ....Day 2

2010-11-11T06:52:00.002-05:00

So far, we’ve had a great community discussion here – thanks to all of you!! It began with Rhonda’s question about fear and art:
fear of ruining a creation,
fear of judgement by others,
fear of taking on challenges.

Some of us offered up other types of fears:
fear of creating work that won’t sell (Lorna)
fear that our art won’t outlive us (Carolyn)
fear of expressing our true feelings in our paintings (L.W.)
fear of trusting in ourselves when subject to the authority of instructors (Sharmon)

And, some of us offered up solutions to our fears:
what’s the worst that can possibly happen? (Robin)
age gives us wisdom and perspective (Robin)
embracing “crazy” (Hallie)
create an art trust or will to preserve our work (Carolyn)
don’t let others dictate what our art should be (Sharmon)
creating a large volume of work diminishes and removes fear (Jean)
paint or draw every single day overcomes fears (Celeste)
realizing that making mistakes can be a positive thing (Celeste)
fear can make the process exciting and make us try new things for the thrill of it (Don)

These are great contributions to our discussion!

A special thank you today to all of our veterans who served so we wouldn't have to fear! Your bravery and sacrifice is extraordinary.

Who’d like to begin today's discussion?? You may either continue this discussion or begin a new topic. Go for it!

Community Discussion: An Experiment

2010-11-10T12:58:00.002-05:00

Image: Stick path by Andy Goldsworthy

Following up on yesterday's post about the artist's community, your comments reflected how important this type of interaction is. Many of us work in isolation, or semi-isolation, and seek opportunities to have substantive discussions with other artists. That's how we found each other in the blogosphere.

So, I'd like to conduct a community experiment - a discussion among us that flows along a path that might occur naturally if we were all in the same room.

Let's exchange thoughts and ideas - related to art, of course - that interest us most. I'll delay reviewing the next book I'm reading until next Monday so that we have plenty of time to travel down a conversational path. My job is to facilitate the discussion through daily summaries that allow us all to continue the conversation.

So, for the next four days here's what we'll do: the first person to post a comment today gets to select the topic that most interests him/her. Subsequent comments should acknowledge the initial topic, expand upon it and even slightly turn the path. This is usually how live conversations progress over time.

Of course, we'll respect the virtues of polite conversation and respect all who choose to engage. So - let's begin! Someone start us off. Feel free to comment as much as you like.
Who's first??

A Community of Artists

2010-11-09T13:40:00.003-05:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

image: "Rainshadow" by Andy Goldsworthy, 1984

Chapter 10: A Community of Artists, finale

It’s time to conclude Orland’s book and, in so doing, consider the communities available to artists. The author writes: Successful artists’ groups can (and do) differ wildly from one another in size, format, purpose and duration – but in most every case they reflect the only structure that could work for that particular group of artists. The tricky part is striking the right balance between common goals and differing sensibilities.

Over the years, I’ve joined formal art societies governed by rules, informal art groups governed by chaos, and art communities where a significant part of the local residents are artists or support the arts. For me, the most important aspect of any community of artists is the acceptance and encouragement of the free exchange of ideas, philosophies, and perspectives. If the community is too like-minded then innovation dies. If the community is too conflicted then the seeds of ideas can’t sprout. There’s a delicate balance. I like the mellow, laid-back, hey-that’s-interesting-let’s-explore-it approach.

Orland points out that small groups support give-and-take discussions more easily than large groups. True. I’d much rather be part of a small group, or a sub-group of a larger group. Once, I was president of an art league with a membership of over 300 artists. One year of that was about all I could tolerate so I resigned. Whenever a group gets that large there are too many rules and too much narrow-minded thinking. Socializing becomes more important than artmaking, and cliques grapple for control. That makes me run for the hills!

But, art communities in which artists thrive do exist. As Tom Kelly put it, we may make art in private, wrapped in our own techniques and ideas, but a piece of art lives when it is shown. Often, gatherings of artists result in “show and tell” and critique, or larger communities that support the arts make available numerous venues for exhibitions and regularly attend them. It's the resulting dialogue about the art that's shown that brings it to life. This is why the larger community is important to the solitary artist.

There are towns and villages that purposely seek to attract artists such as Monhegan Island in Maine, or Provincetown on Cape Cod, and Oil City in Pennsylvania that openly advertises itself as an artist relocation project. Six years ago I decided to build a home in one of those communities where I spend half the year. It's wonderful!

The point is, we artists can make our own communities (large or small) or move to communities that support the arts. Or, we can remain in isolation and join communities online through emailing and blogs and other sites. Because of the internet, we always have access to the global community of other artists. You can't get much more diverse than that!

As Orland reminds us, ultimately, making art that matters is intimately connected with making life itself matter. Doing so within an understanding and supportive community makes it all the better.

What are your thoughts and experiences?

A Community of Artists, Part 1

2010-11-08T14:09:00.005-05:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Image: work by Andy Goldsworthy

Chapter 10: A Community of Artists, Part 1

Before I begin this final chapter of Orland’s book, I’d like to announce that on the left-hand column of this site I’ve created an index of art book reviews and discussions posted here. We’ve had some rip-roaring discussions that you’ll want to read, and often the authors of the books joined in! Just select the name of the author and it will take you to the first day of our discussion. Have fun and feel free to add your comments.

Back to Orland’s book. He begins this final chapter with a quotation from Alan Kay that I can relate to: The best way to predict the future is to invent it yourself. Well, we may not be able to invent a fully predictable future without the interference of unanticipated events - but, I do believe in inventing my own future. Nearly twenty years ago I developed a philosophy that I coined "My Rocking Chair Story.” Back then, I had reached a critical point in my life that required changing nearly everything. As I considered where I would go and what I would do with the rest of my life, I had an epiphany. I envisioned myself as an old woman sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of a retirement home with a stranger sitting in the next chair. He turned to me and said “Tell me about your life.” Immediately, I realized that I wanted a great story to tell – full of accomplishments and adventures that were all true! So, I began to make life decisions that would make my life's narrative exciting and interesting. It’s been quite a ride!

By extension, we artist are inventive and (hopefully) have the freedom to chose what we’ll create and when. We can decide to make our voyage interesting or dull, exciting or depressing, jubillant or sad. It’s up to us individually and as a community of artists who can offer support. Taking risks and venturing forth into uncharted territories can lead to unimaginably rewarding experiences in art. And, if we help each other it's more rewarding.

OK, so I didn’t even get into Orland’s text today. Next time.

Carpe diem!

An Ecology of Art

2010-11-07T06:11:00.003-05:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 9: An Ecology of Art

Image: sculpture by Andy Goldsworthy

The title to this chapter confused me at first because my understanding of the word “ecology” is a scientific study of the relationship of living organism to each other and their surroundings. But, as Orland unwrapped his concept throughout the chapter it began to make perfect sense. He writes:

“Now it must count for something that as a species we’ve been able to grasp the significance of such interconnections within the natural world. But where is our understanding or empathy for such connections in the cultural world – or by extension, the art world? As artists today we find ourselves in the same straits as other endangered species, surviving – when we do – at the margins of our ecosystem. Today neither art nor artist is offered a meaningful role in our culture, and while there’s no shortage of political and economic rationalizations for this, it makes no sense whatsoever in an evolutionary sense. Viewed in broad terms, art is an expression of human nature, and human nature is at least partly a product of natural selection. .. The traits we associate with artmaking arise from evolutionary sources – and suppressing those traits carries evolutionary consequences.”

Although I agree with part of this logic, I cannot agree that artists are an endangered species because there’s a universal support for the arts. For instance, musicians and filmmakers have an enormous following and have grown into multi-billion dollar industries. I don’t know a single person who doesn’t listen to music in one form or another or who hasn’t seen at least one movie. Artists have a voice in the political arena and are awarded presidential medals in this country and knighthood in England. Local, state, and federal governments provide financial support in the form of grants to artists every year. Worldwide, the fine arts (painting and sculpture) are housed in expensive and well-attended museums and galleries. Last year I gladly stood in line for over an hour just to pay the $18 admission fee into the Guggenheim Museum. That queue was much longer by the time I left the museum. So, I disagree with Orland that artists are an endangered species. Instead, I propose that the species called “artist” has become overpopulated in its niche. Breeding new artists is easy, but finding support for all them is not. After all, our resources are finite.

This is a somewhat depressing thought, but it also makes me all the more determined to make a place for myself. I’m not the sort of person who responds well to the suggestion that I cannot do something. I like the challenge and if I fail I can at least say that I tried.

What are your thoughts?

From Monet to Money, Part 3

2010-11-05T08:38:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 7: From Monet to Money, Part 3

The conclusion of this chapter brings to light what most artists face on a daily basis: the fact that most of us are neither famous nor rich from our artmaking. But, isn’t that true for professionals in almost any discipline? The superstars are few among us. Today, we have an increasing number of “celebritants” (celebrity/debutants) whose only claim to fame comes from publicists and stylists who market them for their looks, questionable personalities, and outrageous acts. An artist could achieve notoriety in the same way but does that make their work more meaningful and valuable? Think of Thomas Kinkade before answering that question.

But, should we artists even be concerned with pursuing fame? For many of us, financial necessity forces us to find ways to sell our work. I have yet to meet an artist who prefers marketing their work to making it. Nor have I met an artist who’d give up painting just to pursue the life of fame (I probably don’t know enough artists because I suspect there are some who would do just that!)

As Orland puts it, the very lack of attention from the outside world also brings a healthy realization that fame and fortune are fickle rewards, and that nourishment for our work must come from other parts of our life – from friends and family, and from the satisfaction that comes from the making the art itself. And so yes, of course artists today are universally under-recognized and underpaid. But then again, how much money would someone have to pay you in trade for your promise to never make art again?

The Third Law of Thermodynamics

2010-11-04T07:29:00.003-04:00

The Third Law of Thermodynamics

by Katharine A. Cartwright, 2010

watercolor on paper

26" x 20"

Yesterday, I completed the ninth painting in my series "The Laws of Nature," which is a comment on the natural physical constraints upon man's attempt to harness and utilize the energy and materials of the universe.

"The Third Law of Thermodynamics" states: for changes involving only perfect crystalline solids at absolute zero, the change of the total entropy is zero.

Each painting in this series is based upon intuition with no physical references. Therefore, these represent what I see in my mind's eye. Today, I'll begin drafting the tenth painting in this ongoing series.

Happy painting, everyone!

Artists' Round Table (A.R.T.)

2010-11-03T13:15:00.005-04:00

I'll take a short break from reviewing Orland's book today to discuss my morning. Some wonderful local artists joined me in a round table discussion about the various aspects of being a professional artist. There was no agenda so the conversation could freely expand and contract around our personal interests and experiences. As a friend of mine used to say, we discussed everything "from strawberries to the moon!" - as long as it was related to art.

One topic was the importance of dedicating time to make art; that is, having regular hours and sticking to it. However, a more important point was made by our good friend Carolyn , who wisely noted that making time in our heads is essential. This means clearing from our thoughts the numerous distractions and trivial concerns that prevent us from focusing on artmaking. That can be especially difficult for those of us who've spent a lifetime as caretakers of children, spouses, and parents. Our thoughts tend to stray even when we're in our studios and we tend to abandon our artmaking on a moment's notice when needed elsewhere.

So, a change in thinking must precede a change in our physical habits. This was an important and meaningful take-away from our meeting. I wonder what we'll discuss next month?

From Monet to Money, Part 2

2010-11-01T21:57:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 7: From Monet to Money, Part 2 - my viewpoint

Yesterday, I promised to share with you how I market my art. I don’t have any secrets to disclose and there’s no magic wand. It’s all about hard work and placing value on what I make. I can honestly say that almost every single day I paint (or work out a technical problem in my head) AND engage in at least one activity to promote my work. I’ve rarely missed a day.

So far, in 2010, I’ve sold 57 paintings. These painting are based upon concepts that interest me without regard to what is popular or more attractive to consumers – so, my work is authentic and aesthetically pleasing to me. Because I can't create 57 paintings in one year, most of these sales were paintings completed over the past five years. Twenty-one paintings sold at two solo shows in galleries last summer and the rest sold either at juried exhibitions, from my home, or from my website.

How did this happen? Hard work over a long period of time while exploring every reasonable and legitimate avenue I could think of, such as:

Websites: When I first posted my website through Artspan, I naively thought there’d be an immediate reaction to my work. Nope – nada - zilch. So, I printed business cards and brochures and distributed them with the hope that people would begin to visit my website. They did, but still no sales. It wasn’t until Artspan improved its ranking on search engines that buyers found me. Even so, I’ve made fewer than a dozen sales directly from my website since I began it and only one this year.

Galleries: I’ve never been interested in an exclusive relationship with a gallery and haven’t sought it. However, I do contract for short-term (1-2 month) solo shows in galleries with great results. I highly recommend this approach, and recommend that any agreement with a gallery should be in written contract form (check the fine print!).

Outdoor Shows: Every couple of years I participate in our local annual outdoor art show. This allows me to interact with members of my own community and I always make lots of sales. In fact, many of the folks who regularly collect my work live in my community. Repeat customers are very important! Although I didn’t participate last summer, I did make a couple of sales to folks who sought me from previous years. This means that handing out attractive business cards and brochures that people will hang onto is important.

Juried Exhibitions: Every year I sell paintings that are part of a juried exhibition somewhere in this country. I never get to meet the patrons, but it’s good to know that they connect with my work.

Corporations: Many corporations have art collections and frequently add to them. Sometimes a corporation will approach me about a purchase and other times I’ll make the first move.

To put this in perspective: my first concern is in producing authentic work that satisfies me. My second concern is marketing. As I mentioned earlier, I do something every day to promote my work but it doesn’t usually consume more than an hour or two unless I’m writing an exhibition proposal or framing work for a show.

Frankly, I’m not a marketing genius. Mostly, I’m concerned with the quality of my life. So, I paint because it makes me happy and engages me intellectually and I have fun with marketing because I can’t live in a house that’s stacked to the rafters with paintings. Also, it’s a great feeling to know that other people “get it” and connect with my work enough to want it for their own home/office/corporation.

But, one thing is certain: the more I paint and work at marketing , the more paintings I sell; and the more paintings I sell the more I establish relationships with collectors; and more collectors equals more sales. But, it’s not just about the money – it’s about connecting with other people, communities, and society through my art.

The best advice I can give is to believe in your artistry and "reach for the stars!"

What’s your approach?

From Monet to Money

2010-11-01T08:33:00.004-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 7: From Monet to Money

I’m back from “The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear” in Washington D.C. where I was surrounded by 250,000 polite and sane people for the day. We managed to stand close enough to the stage to see the performers, and it was an amazing experience. Woodstock, move over!

Now, back to “normal.” Orland’s seventh chapter is about how to support ourselves as artists. He begins by advising us to be single-minded and pursue no other goal than making art. Of course, this means that there will be times of feast and famine, so it’s not for the tentative or uncommitted. He does acknowledge that most of us will need a steady source of income while we’re making art, and suggests two avenues: either find an uninteresting job that won’t distract us from our art but may, potentially, dull our minds OR find an interesting job in commercial art that stimulates us to be more creative in our fine art. These days, finding ANY job at all is a challenge!

The real problem for us artists is finding reputable venues and patrons for our art. Gallery directors have a difficult job these days since so many of us display and sell our work on the world-wide web. I read somewhere that two-thirds of all galleries that open will close their doors within three years. So, which galleries succeed and why? I don’t know, but Orland offers this perspective:

The director of one well-established West Coast gallery confided to me that fully three-quarters of her gallery’s sales were accounted for by exactly two categories of art: 1)Masterworks by famous –well, OK, “dead” - artists; and 2) one particular artist’s limited edition color lithograph of really cute little white boats. So there you have it, a ready-made recipe for success. Be dead, or paint little white boats.

If we’re really serious about our art (and I am!) then we don’t want to compromise the content of our work by painting for tourists. So, we paint for ourselves - but, how do we sell it?? Orland has a formula for this scenario as well: if the only goal were to attain quick visibility in the art world, the formula is absurdly simple: devote ten percent of your effort to artmaking, and ninety percent to marketing and self-promotion. And, if you stop for even a moment you’ll “drop into oblivion.”

Personally, I’m not interested in joining that type of rat-race. So, tomorrow I’ll share with you my approach and hope that you’ll share yours as well!

Audience, Part 2

2010-10-29T06:43:00.003-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 6: Audience, Part 2

Orland ends this chapter by giving the reader a far-reaching perspective of the artist's audience: The fact that museums and art history books are peppered with re-discovered art offers grudging support to the contrarian view that art actually has a better chance of surviving if it’s initially undervalued. Call it the Theory of Benign Neglect: work that doesn’t “fit” gets ignored and forgotten and buried in some dusty attic – in other words, it gets unintentionally preserved simply because no one bothers to throw it away. Then, in different times, an audience with different sensibilities rediscovers the work and sees it in an entirely new light.

So, our art, if it’s preserved, may appeal to people who haven’t yet been born in societies that haven’t yet evolved. Or, it could appeal to our contemporaries but not future generations. Honestly, I can’t get bogged down in worrying about it because I’m not going to change the content of my work in order to appeal to an audience anyway. That’s just chasing rabbits, and it would force me to compromise my vision. For me, it’s a cardinal sin to paint to someone else’s tastes at the expense of my own concept and sensibilities.

But, the notion that my art future may appeal to a future generation is a good reason to use only archival materials. I was advised to do this many years ago and have always spent big bucks on acid-free papers, permanent high-quality hues, etc. Even my studies are treated with this regard, and I advise my students to do the same.

Who is my audience?

Who is your audience?

Who is any artist’s audience? We might never know.

And now - I’m off to Washington D.C. to attend “The Rally to Restore Sanity.” Have a great weekend, everyone!

Audience, Part 1

2010-10-28T07:44:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 6: Audience, Part 1

We artists usually make art for ourselves because it’s satisfying on many levels. In fact, most of us are compelled to express our thoughts and ideas through our art even if there were no audience. However, as Orland writes, when audience is added into the equation, the whole process quickly becomes more complex and often more troublesome. We'll explore the "troublesome" aspect in part 2 of this chapter.

The author likens art without an audience to a tree falling in the forest with no one there to hear it. The tree fell, but without a witness who cares?? Over the long run, art without audience is incomplete. The meaning of your art may be embedded in the artwork itself, but its purpose arises from its relationship with audience.

In support of this notion, I’d like to apply it to all artforms. How is a ballet affected if no one ever sees it? Likewise, a novel, poem, movie, sonata, and so on? And, how would the private existance of the arts affect our culture? I know that seems absurd, but it helps me to put art in perspective. I would argue that part of the intent in making art from any discipline is to communicate with others. The trick is, however, to not let the audience influence our creative authenticity.

The essential questions Orland asks are:

Who is the real audience for your art?

Where would you hope to find your art ten years from now?

Surviving Graduation, Part 2

2010-10-27T07:40:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 5: Surviving Graduation, Part 2

The rest of this chapter examines the transition of the artist from student to professional. Orland lays out the typical steps that lead to success when one become an independent artist. These steps may be distilled to one: make art every day. He states your mastery of craft is directly proportional to the sheer number of hours you throw into the effort, but your vision unfolds in concert with your total life experience – in other words, slowly, and only across extended periods of time. Our “vision” needs time to mature and we must be patient enough let it. We achieve this one painting at a time, day after day, year after year.

What is it we’re hoping to achieve in our artmaking? Many of us find that it’s emotionally satisfying because we have an inner compulsion to make art and we need a creative outlet. For me, that’s true but there’s also something more. I need to share my work with others – to exhibit it in public venues. It’s not vanity, it’s simply my way of communicating with society. As Orland puts it, over the long run it’s the relationship of your art to the entire culture that determines its value. In the deepest sense, the relationship of your art to the culture is its value.

I feel the need to expand Orland’s view of what it takes to become a professional artist because it’s limited to that of an Academic (Orland is a college art professor). There’s a whole other side to life as a professional artist and that’s the business side. While an artist, first and foremost, must be dedicated to producing authentic work that is technically skillful, he/she must also attend to all that goes into exhibiting and selling the work in order to participlate in the professional arena. Colleges don’t include that in their art curriculum. But, that’s a discussion for another day.

What are your thoughts?

Surviving Graduation

2010-10-26T07:00:00.004-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 5: Surviving Graduation, Part 1

This chapter addresses college students in the fine arts, but I think it also applies to art students in week-long workshops or those who work with a mentor. The classroom experience is one of total immersion in a supportive environment where one fits in with everyone else. It’s nothing like the “real world” where artists are undervalued and often misunderstood. So, graduation or separation from the classroom environment can be scary. As Orland points out, sooner or later every artist needs to claim their artistic independence, and that means placing a healthy aesthetic distance between their own work and that of their most important teachers. Artists who fail to make that break may well stay in the game anyway, but usually as niche players, building entire careers out of beautifully crafted variants of their mentor’s art.

This is really about confidence and trust in our own abilities. A teacher or mentor gives us direction and immediate feedback, which gives us the confidence to make necessary corrections to our work. Teacher/mentors often think for us by identifying the weaknesses in our work that we’re too immature to see for ourselves and assigning new challenges that will lead us in what we trust is the best direction. For the student, severing this dependent relationship can be difficult and knowing when to make the transition is tricky.

In college, I learned how to paint in oils and acrylics. Watercolor wasn’t considered a worthy medium (for shame!) and still isn’t in some institutions. So, about twelve years ago I decided to challenge that prejudice and learn to paint in watercolors. I sought a mentor and worked with her off-and-on for three years. Between lessons I asked her to critique my work and completely failed to trust in my own ability. If she wanted me to change something, I changed it.
This dependence ended when I painted a work that I knew (deep down inside) was a good one. She told me to abandon that path, but I refused and kept going. The series of paintings that resulted from my rebellion won numerous awards in juried national and international exhibitions, and earned me two solo shows in notable venues.

But, how do we know when it’s time to graduate? For me, it was when I had enough technical skill to paint well. At that point, the only thing I needed to do was express my own ideas – to say what I wanted to say about my world – to speak in my own voice.

What’s your story?

The Education of the Artist, Part 4

2010-10-24T22:41:00.004-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 4: The Education of the Artist, Part 4

This last and final section of Chapter 4 is directed toward art teachers. Orland writes: Teaching has its consequences. As a First Principle, teachers would do well to heed the counsel of Hippocrates: “First, Do No Harm.”

As students of art, we trust our teachers on many levels: to provide us with accurate and useful information, to serve as a role model, and to inspire us to innovate according to our own sensibilities with skill.

I’ve been teaching in one capacity or another for nearly forty years and understand the bond of trust between teacher and student. It’s one that should never be violated, and it’s an awesome responsibility. As a teacher, you never know how someone will react to what you say or do. We can inspire without even knowing it, and we can also destroy creativity and desire just as easily.
By my accounting, Orland writes, good teaching is more a process of raising the next question (or hundred questions) a student needs to confront in order to make headway in their work. Isn’t that the truth? It’s like the old adage about teaching someone to fish. He also writes, You soon realize that your real purpose as a teacher may simply be as a catalyst, offering a few provocative ideas here, clearing the way past a few technical hurdles there, and eventually just pointing the way to the far horizon.

As a teacher, it’s important for me to show my students how to think critically, creatively, and independently. As Orland puts it, no one else has the answers you need anyway. He recounts a tentative student whose creativity needed to be released. So, he asked her four important questions that I’ll paraphrase for us painters:

What’s the easiest subject for you to paint?

What’s the emotionally riskiest subject you’d dare approach?

What do you have a passion to paint?

What’s the single greatest obstacle standing between you and the art you need to make?

These are great questions!
What are your thoughts?

The Second Law of Thermodynamics

2010-10-23T08:12:00.006-04:00

The Second Law of Thermodynamics
by Katharine A. Cartwright
Watercolor on Arches Paper
26" x 20"

The entropy of a closed system increases with time.

Hi folks, This is the most recent and eighth painting in my series "The Laws of Nature." Since it's the weekend, I thought I'd post it and then return to Orland's book on Monday. One of the challenges in this painting was to make a small departure from the palette I typically use (red/blue/yellow) and focus more on green - a hue I usually avoid. I guess we all have color preferences, and I decided it was time to challenge my own.

The first challenge in creating this series was rejecting all visual references (real objects and photographs) and relying entirely on my intuition so that what is expressed comes entirely from my imagination. That alone has liberated and improved my ability to create. As this series continues, I look for new challenges - such as changing my palette or pushing the limits of design. All the paintings in this series comment upon man's inability to create the perfect machine (perpetual motion) because of the constraints imposed by nature. Vis victum apparatus! Nature conquers machine.

P.S. I've entered three paintings from this series into three different exhibitions and have won awards in each one: The San Diego Watercolor Society's annual international exhibition, Aqueous USA, and the annual international exhition of the North East Watercolor Society.

The Education of the Artist, Part 3

2010-10-22T07:52:00.005-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 4: The Education of the Artist, Part 3

In this section, Orland discusses the most important mentor in his life – the famous photographer Ansel Adams. Their fifteen year relationship was critically important to this author’s development as an artist. What made Adams an effective mentor was his single-minded approach to his art coupled with a broadminded philosophy. Adams had a clear vision about the content and purpose of his work. As Orland puts it:

Over the long run what I came to value most were the intangibles I absorbed simply by standing near someone who had found something important that he needed to say through his art, had molded his technique to match that vision, and – most of all – demonstrated the strength of will it takes to stay focused on reaching that goal. It isn’t the equipment or tonal range or recent auction price or even the subject matter that I relate to when I look at Ansel’s art – it’s the sincerity and passion and care and trust he embedded into the making of that art.

I must think about this description all weekend. Isn't Adams the role model we've all been searching for as both an artist and a mentor?

What are your thoughts?

The Education of the Artist, part 2

2010-10-21T05:39:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 4: The Education of the Artist, part 2

Before I begin my review of this next section of Orland’s book, I’ll share that my husband and I are joining John Stewart’s “Rally to Restore Sanity” and Stephen Colbert’s “Rally to Keep Fear Alive” on the Mall in Washington D.C. on October 30th. Guess which side we're on?? We have our tee shirts, buttons, and posters ready to go. Will you be there?

Back to Orland’s book: After encouraging us to seek a broad education and also specific areas of learning that enhance our work, he now turns his attention to the types of choices we make. Any choice can turn into a series of unpredicted events – avenues that repeatedly bifurcate to create an unanticipated path of learning.

Here’s an example: I’ve been a professional artist for a long time, but at one point decided to adopt a second discipline. So, I went back to college and earned a graduate degree earth science and taught at a college. Right after I retired from that I decided to take a four-week temp job scoring high school math standardized tests by computer. I decided to do this because it was obvious that college students lacked math skills, so I wanted to know how and what high schoolers were being taught. (BTW – it was appalling!) Anyway, one of the other scorers on my team was a poet who also owned a small publishing company. We got to talking over coffee breaks and he became interested in my art. When our temp jobs ended, he contacted me and asked if I’d be interested in illustrating some of his poems for publication. I agreed. Eventually, other poets saw my work and hired me as well. Before I knew it, I had plenty of work as an illustrator and a nice boost in income!

One decision led to an unexpected outcome that eventually became a sideline in my art career. As Orland writes: The difference is where we search for the possibilities, and in that regard some encounters will always prove more consequential than others. Each of us has a path, a turning point (or many of them), and a story.

Orland asks us:

Where did you learn the things that really matter to you?
Where was that critical fork in the road that directed you to this point?
Who have been your real teachers?

I’m asking you, too.

The Education of the Artist

2010-10-20T06:47:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 4: The Education of the Artist, part 1

This is a very long chapter, so I’ll break it up into parts. The topic interests me a great deal because some of what I know about artmaking comes from a formal education and some from experimentation (a.k.a. trial and error). As far as I’m concerned, both approaches have value. So, let’s see what Orland has to say about it.

He begins by reminding us that it’s the countless small steps we take toward learning how to make art that are critically important. We should find satisfaction in that journey because that’s where almost all the progress gets made. I agree and am happier taking a series of small steps that are easy to correct than making a big leap that could end in a big disaster. Orland continues: truth is, caring about the work you do is the single best indicator that others will also care about it. The same goes for learning. I agree.

Our education often comes from a variety of seemingly unrelated sources. This, in my opinion, is the value of a liberal arts education. A broader understanding provides a valuable context or perspective for any discipline, including art. Ben Shahn’s book, The Shape of Content, urges us to learn as much as possible from as many disciplines as possible. The better informed we are as artists, the greater the chances are that we’ll produce meaningful work.

As Orland puts it: there’s no predicting which particular piece of knowledge or experience will later prove essential, we’re faced with the disconcerting possibility that everything matters. And if that knowledge or experience could come from anywhere, the clear implication is that teachers are everywhere. That’s how I see it, too.

Although the random experiences that life imposes on us provide us with a rich education, Orland advises us to purposely seek specific learning experiences that help us with artmaking as well. This is to help us make decisions about the path our work should take. And, no two paths will be identical.

Next time, part 2 of this chapter.

What are your thoughts?

Have You Hugged an Artist Today?

2010-10-19T06:35:00.004-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 3: Art & Society, Part 3

Orland finishes this chapter with the notion that we’re becoming a society that is almost entirely composed of audience. Too many viewers and too few participants have left artists lacking community support. He asks, “how many artists have the resilience to see their still-developing work placed in direct competition with the legends of their field? And, we can’t afford to leave artmaking to a chosen few – the few are not enough. Thinking globally, Orland speculates that another superstar wouldn’t do as much to make the world a better place as would thousands of people making art on a daily basis. Indeed, the world would be a better place if more people made art.

I agree with the last statement, but am uncertain about the rest of his reasoning. It seems to me that there are more people in the world making art today than ever before in the history of mankind. It also seems to me that there’s more public funding available for the arts than ever before, and more people buying art. There was a time, not more than a century ago, when only the wealthy elite purchased original art and the rest either did without or bought cheap prints. Times have changed – and almost anyone can own an original work of art and almost anyone can declare him/herself an "artist."

But, maybe Orland is writing about a different kind of community support: respect. The type of
respect that holds artists in esteem within the community and finds value in what we do. The type of respect that doesn't chop art programs first when educational funding shrinks. The kind of respect that helps artists function full-time in their careers. The kind of respect that views art as a solution to the problem rather than a silly pasttime.

We artists need both emotional and tangible support from our community. That lacking, we especially need it from each other. I’ve been in too many situations where artists compete against one another in a destructive way either indirectly or directly. Elevating one's art and professional standing doesn't necessate demeaning someone else's. For what it's worth - I hold you all in high esteem and am grateful for your support!

What are your thoughts?

Art & Society, Part 2

2010-10-18T07:02:00.002-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 3: Art & Society, Part 2

I’m feeling optimistic today, especially after reading your comments from the last post. Thank you! It’s time to return to Chapter 3 of Orland’s book:

There’s a pervasive myth, shared by artists and nonartists alike, that art is a product of genius, madness or serendipity. Wrong. Art is not the chance offspring of some cosmic (or genetic) roll of the dice. Art is mostly a product of hard work. I think there are two sides to this coin. On the one hand, some people are born with artistic genius, like Mozart, and on the other hand, everyone has an aesthetic sensibility and the potential for artistic expression in some form. But, this doesn’t mean that we’re guaranteed to make “great” art if we work hard. And, those born with artistic genius won’t become great artists if they fail to work at it.

Orland continues: One of the … truths about artmaking is that it’s more important to be productive than to be creative. If you’re productive your creativity will take care of itself. If you are not productive then how exactly is it you intend to be creative?

OK, Mr. Orland – we’re getting bogged-down with terms that need clarification: “genius,” “creativity,” “productivity.” At what point is someone clever enough to be considered a genius? At what point does an act become a “creative” act? What amount of productivity is considered enough for the serious artist? It all seems relative to me and there’s no clear answer in this chapter.

So, we move on to making the distinction between “creativity” and “the creative process.” Here, we turn to the ideas of David Bayles who believes that creativity involves innovation and the creative process means productivity. Orland writes: But to you – the maker- the important thing is whether one piece helps show you the way down the road to the next piece. Looking back over a pile of early pieces, you come to realize that it’s the ninety-nine percent you never show others that laid the groundwork for the one percent that soar.

This means that it’s the next painting and the painting after that, and so on that matter. As the author points out, you can make some great paintings early on but if nothing of significance follows then it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. This is like the “one hit wonder” syndrome that characterizes many rock groups or the Hollywood standard line “What have you done lately?”

We’re left with this advice:

Annie Dillard – How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

Ted Orland – Ordinary people make art when they make extraordinary concerns a part of their daily life.

I think I’ll head to the studio now… tomorrow, the rest of Chapter 3.

What are your thoughts?

Optimism & Art

2010-10-16T17:59:00.000-04:00

It's the weekend - the time when I step away from the weighty job of reviewing the art theory books and have a little fun. This also gives me time to reflect on the substantive comments written by you. There's a lot to consider, but today I want to focus on "optimism." I've always thought that artmaking is an optimistic act, and our good friends Hallie and L.W. were good enough to remind us of this in yesterday's comments.

What makes art an optimistic act? For me, it's the hope and belief that the outcome of my endeavors will be something wonderful and meaningful to me. When I paint, I sometimes catch myself holding my breath. I'm fascinated and excited by the process. Brush to water to pigment to paper over and over again until something new appears - sometimes unexpectedly better than I had imagined. And, I get to do this day after day, week after week, and year after year! What could be more perfect?

But, there's even more: I see this in the works of others - YOUR work. It makes me realize what a precious and fragile community of artists we are. I love this community and want to protect it and nurture it. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to help other artists advance their work and professional standing. We need each other, especially (as Orland points out in his book) because we get little encouragement from the rest of the world.

This afternoon I treated myself to a movie. I went to see "Secretariat." Granted, the real story was "Disneyfied" to the point of some major distortions, but that doesn't matter. The point was to show the triumph of the human spirit in the face of adversity. It was a joyous celebration of individual strength. That's how I see life as an artist. It IS a struggle - there's no easy path. But isn't the struggle rewarding? Doesn't it make us value what we do even more? And, doesn't it help us value each other more as well?

So, my thought for the weekend can be distilled to this: embrace artmaking with joy and exuberance - no matter what.

Have a great weekend!

Art & Society

2010-10-15T06:26:00.000-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 3: Art & Society, Part 1

Folks, I hope you had the opportunity to read the responses to yesterday’s post. They’re gems. Personally, I agree with Don’s eloquently stated viewpoint and hope you’ll read it along with all the other substantive comments. Today, we’ll move on to Chapter 3.

Orland segued into this chapter by previously suggesting that society dictates which is art and which isn’t. Perhaps this doesn’t resonate with artists since we have our own mindset about it. However, if you’ve ever tried selling your work or submitting it to a museum, you already know that society’s opinion matters.

In the best of worlds, artmaking would be encouraged, its destination would be clear, and society would cultivate the relationship between artist and audience. Oh, how I long for that perfect world! The author sees three looming problems for us artists:

Art plays no clear role in our culture.
Artists have little direct contact with their audience.
Artmaking is indulged, but rarely rewarded.

Yup, those are BIG problems. He writes becoming an artist means creating your own path and in all likelihood going it alone. It means relying almost entirely on yourself in a world that’s more or less indifferent to all that you do. Art may be recognized as a noble profession, but it rarely gets mistaken for a useful occupation. Orland has his fingers on the artist’s pulse. I can relate.

Before we all get depresssed, I should mention that there is a good side to all this. Going it alone gives us the best opportunity to listen to our own inner voice so we may express it through our art. This is what gives our work authenticity. So, the isolation is often necessary for meaningful expression and innovation.

But, Orland isn’t concerned with that here. He offers us perspective by writing about the condition of the generations of artists that have gone before us. Often, they were more connected to their families and communities, and their art was more integrated into religious and social institutions. The difference, as Orland sees it, is that earlier artists spoke for the community and recent artists speak to the community in their works. That is an important difference.

But, I see another big difference. Our predecessors were fewer in number and selected by society. Without that support, they couldn’t have existed. Today, we can support ourselves financially by other means while simultaneously engaging in artmaking. And, we have more opportunities to show the rest of the world our work with fewer restrictions on the content. We’ve come a long way, baby!

And then, there’s the paradigm shift from classical art to contemporary art that declares the subject of art IS art. The author asks: How deeply can art matter if the only fitting description of its meaning and purpose is “art for art’s sake”? Thus, Orland calls upon the art community to find a higher calling for our work – spiritually, educationally, and technically. Maybe that’s how you open the door to creating art that matters in a culture that otherwise displays little interest in the issues of substance. Can this be true?

More on this chapter next time.

And now, what are your thoughts?

Making Sense of Art, Part 2

2010-10-14T04:49:00.000-04:00

The View from the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 2 continued: Making Sense of Art

Picking up where I left off, Orland acknowledges something most of you have stated in your comments: Many people, if asked why they make art, would disavow even having a choice in the matter. They’ll tell you with complete sincerity that they never asked to become artists – they simply feel compelled to share the truths they’ve discovered (or the truths that found them). That pretty much sums it up!

Once we discover the artist inside us, what do we do about it? The world is skeptical about self-labeled artists but the reality is that we must self-label; we must believe it about ourselves or no one else will.

Orland returns to the central question that plagues us all: What is Art? He draws from his own experience to define its characteristics (I’m paraphrasing):

Art is drawn from life

Art must be inclusive, not exclusive
Art elicits a response from the viewer

Interestingly, Orland believes that the most important parts of artmaking are those which demonstrate the least difference between people and animals. He arrives at this conclusion by explaining that artists rely more on intuition than intellect when artmaking, and that intuition is only a half-step removed from instinct.

And, he thinks that once we’ve identified a group of pieces that we consider “art” we should ask: What traits do all art-like works share in common with one another?”Therein lies the answer to the question about what is art. I believe we covered this topic when we discussed “The Art Instinct” many months ago. But, Orland offers another perspective.

We can’t use form, style, and genre as commonalities because there is such a wide variety. And, if we consider proportion, balance, rhythm, and harmony these terms will also apply to things other than “art.” Orland rightly points out that all these terms describe the product rather than the process. He feels that the most defining characteristic of art is the process itself and the authenticity of the artist’s motivation:

The sincerity of effort

The passion in its pursuit

The care in execution

So, now we’re left with an even bigger problem: If those qualities lie anywhere near the core of artmaking, then wouldn’t anyone qualify as an artist?”Hmmmm…. we must delve deeper. Perhaps the answer is rests with what society deems to be “art.”

OK – so we don’t get a definite answer to the question. I really didn’t expect one. Maybe it doesn’t matter. But, when you think about the necessity for professional artists to actually make a living from their art, then it is important. We can’t sell our product as “art” if it doesn’t meet society’s definition of “art.” Does the label matter? Yes, in the marketplace. Serious collectors, including fine art museums, must find value in the work, monetary as well as historical. So, we artists who are busy selling our work as “fine art” need to be concerned with what lies within the vague boundaries of the area known as “art” – or, starve.

What are your thoughts?

Making Sense of Art, Part I

2010-10-13T07:42:00.001-04:00

The View From the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 2: Making Sense of Art

Art theories are good. Art theories are impressive. But hey, wait a minute – it’s the artists who do the work! Most every artist I’ve known is far more comfortable grappling with the difficulty of making art than with the seeming futility of talking about it, writes Orland. I agree! That’s why I challenged myself to start this blog and delve into dozens of books and discussions on art theory – I needed to understand the world of fine art a little better so I could comprehend my role in that world.

Of course, there’s the time-worn adage that art should speak for itself. While that’s important, I think there’s something more. For instance, I could limit my knowledge of my heritage to what I experience with only my living family members. But, there’s so much more to learn from previous generations. That knowledge gives me perspective about who I am. And, that’s what art theory does for me as well, it makes sense of my art by placing it in a larger context.

So, Orland tells us, while we absorb art through our senses, we think about art [or interpret art] in words. Oddly enough, we’ve been sensing and talking about art for millennia and we still can’t find a clear and concise definition for “art!” As Orland observes, The real boundaries of art are defined by the collective range of our minds, not by the collected works in anthologies. So, how will this author help us make sense of art?

This much we do know: long before there were art departments or art critics or art historians or art museums, there was simply art. Period. He goes on to say that it’s more useful to the artist to ask why art should be defined at all. That’s a good point. After all, I won’t stop making what I consider to be art just because someone assigns a definition that doesn’t apply to my work. Nevertheless, there exists a consciousness about art: we sense the meaning of the world unconsciously and capture that meaning through our art – and then we have to wait for our intellect to understand what we already knew.

Artists are always on the hook. The moment we achieve public notice we are asked to explain our motivations and our work within the context and lexicon of the present art scene. Galleries, museums, critics, and special exhibitions all require this of us. For instance, yesterday I was interviewed by an art magazine and had to explain myself and my work. It’s not enough that readers will see pictures of my work, they need my explanations as well.

Orland puts it this way: the moment you achieve even a modicum of success you will be asked to explain your work, and in the course of preparing for that eventuality you may well learn something about your art – and yourself – along the way:

Where, then, does your vision of the world reside?

What part of your art is drawn from history?

What part is prophecy?

What part is grounded in fact?

What part takes wing in fantasy?

These are great questions and I’d rather answer them myself than have others answer them for me.

How about you?

Tomorrow, I’ll finish the other half of this chapter.

Making Sense of the World

2010-10-12T07:37:00.000-04:00

The View From the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
By Ted Orland (2006)

Chapter 1: Making Sense of the World

Have you ever wondered why ours is the only species on the planet that makes art? I have, and so has Orland. Is it because we ourselves define art in a way that limits it to human endeavors, or is it that our minds and sensibilities are so uniquely different from other animals that we need to make art? I’m not talking about the elephant whose trainer puts a brush in its snout and lays out a few cans of paint and a canvas while suggesting that the beast dip and spread. Rather, it’s about why we deliberately make art and are conscious of what we’re making. Or maybe it doesn’t matter at all; we just do it. Orland attributes this to our highly distilled state of self-awareness, or consciousness.

As one neurosurgeon pessimistically noted, “If our brain were simple enough to be understood, we’d be too simple to understand it.” I don’t think I’ll lose any sleep over this.

For some reason, humans need to make art or, at least, experience it. This leads Orland to query What are we actually doing when we make art? Resolving uncertainty? Giving form to our experiences? Seeking emotional release? Declaring what we believe important? Expressing our belief system? For me, it’s all these reasons and more. I don’t question it – I just DO it.

The first half of this chapter is devoted to speculation about existential matters that are interesting, but not particularly practical or helpful. In any case, each artist sees the world a little differently. As the author points out: Perhaps art succeeds precisely because it remains ambiguous enough to allow others with wildly different mental sets to invest themselves in it. Maybe this is why art seems so dissimilar from “fact.”

Making sense of the world is an individual act. My sensibilities may be entirely dissimilar from yours, but perhaps you can understand mine anyway. My artmaking may be entirely different from yours, but perhaps you can understand it anyway. We have the capacity to do this and even enjoy it.

But while artists seem inordinately prone to bouts of uncertainty, really good artists also have strong internal compasses that send them dependably (if often intuitively) in the direction of those particular uncertainties that must attract or terrorize them. We are curious and creative beings, and that creativity, according to Orland, comes from seeing – from making sense of the world around us.

What are your thoughts?

The View From the Studio Door

2010-10-11T12:33:00.000-04:00

The View From the Studio Door: How Artists Find Their Way in an Uncertain World
by Ted Orland (2006)

It’s time to begin a new book, and I found this one by Ted Orland who co-authored Art & Fear, a book we discussed here earlier.

The central questions that are answered, or at least discussed, in this book are:

What are we really doing when we make art?

What role (if any) does the artist have in our society?
How do we find our place in the artistic community?

These are essential questions and I can’t wait to see how Orland answers them. In the author’s own words: This is a book about the nature of artmaking. More precisely, it’s about the nature of artmaking as seen from the artist’s perspective – drawn from life and seasoned with experiences in a real world. It is, in essence, the view from my studio door.”

Orland intends to provide us with a practical philosophy of artmaking – something to help us navigate our world. He feels that for artists, theory and practice are always intertwined. I agree, and think that the conversational style of this book will stimulate our conversation on this blog. I hope you’ll join me.

Tomorrow: chapter 1.

Cezanne & Critics

2010-10-09T05:48:00.001-04:00

Conversations with Cezanne
Michael Doran, Ed. (2001)

Cezanne had a lot to say about critics. For instance, in a conversation with Joachim Gasquet, son of Henri Gasquet who was Cezanne lifelong friend from childhood, Cezanne said:

Above all he [the artist] must shun all opinion not based on the intelligent observation of his own temperament. ..

I’ve said it a hundred times, those critics …. I want to write them all, all of them who haunt me, and tell them that there are three things which make up the basis of our craft, which you will never have and toward which I have been working for thirty-five years, three things: scruples, sincerity, submission. Scruples before ideas, sincerity before myself, and submission before the motif.

Although he may sound embittered, I think Cezanne’s observation is true. I’ve always been a little skeptical of “professional art critics” who don’t create art themselves. The internal process of creating art is just as important as the external act. Critics may understand art history, and, therefore, the importance of a body of work in that context, but do they really understand the act of making art for any particular artist? I don’t know. Maybe some critics do and others don’t. They can’t all be lumped together.

When I go to a museum or gallery to view paintings I first view the work intently to try and understand what the artist is saying to me before reading the explanation on the wall or pamphlet. That explanation will alter the way I see the work. Sometimes that’s good because it offers a historical context for the work. Other times it detracts from the work because the explanation is just someone’s opinion that instructs the viewer what to think. As an artist, I’d rather not have someone else’s opinions stand between my work and the viewing public.
Of course, my work hasn’t been subject to the intense scrutiny that is usually heaped upon great works of art like Cezanne’s, so I have nothing to complain about. I just feel sad about this aspect of the human condition: the need to tear down or diminish anything that rises to a higher plain – that elevates us. I think this is what Cezanne meant.

What are your thoughts?

More thoughts from Cezanne ...

2010-10-08T06:52:00.000-04:00

Conversations with Cezanne
Michael Doran, Ed. (2001)

Continuing with notes provided by Cezanne’s son, here’s some more sage advice and insights by the famous artist:

15. Art is a religion. Its goal is the elevation of thought.
16. He who does not hunger for the absolute (perfection) is content with placid mediocrity.
17. An intellect’s excellence can be judged by the originality of its creation.
18. A mind that can organize powerfully is the most precious collaborator with sensibility in the realization of a work of art.
19. Art is the adaptation of things to our needs and tastes.
20. The technique of any art consists of a language and a logic.
21. Style is perfect when it is commensurate with the character and grandeur of the subject it interprets.
22. Style does not result from the slavish imitation of the old masters; it develops from the artist’s personal manner of feeling and expression.
23. The manner in which a work of art is rendered allows us to judge the distinction of the artist’s mind and insight.
24. The quest for novelty and originality is an artificial need which can never disguise banality and the absence of artistic temperament.

More gems!

One personal note: yesterday I was contacted by the Assistant Editor of Art Calendar. I’m being interviewed and will appear as the “Art Scuttlebutt.com online member of the month” in the December/January issue coming up. That’s right …. Finally, I’m“Miss December!” (wink & smile).

Have a great weekend!

Conversations with Cezanne

2010-10-06T20:30:00.000-04:00

Conversations with Cezanne
Michael Doran, Ed. (2001)

Browsing through my bookshelves here in Maine I came across this book and think it's worth considering. I probably won’t review the entire book, which is a compilation of eyewitness texts which illustrate the last decades of Paul Cezanne’s life. But, there are several parts worth posting.

One of these eyewitness texts was written by the poet Leo Larguier in 1901. Larguier met Cezanne and befriended Cezanne’s son who provided him with these unaltered notes from his famous father:

1. Critics’ opinions about art are formulated more on literary principles than on aesthetic ones.
2. The artist must avoid literature in art.
3. Art is the manifestation of an exquisite sensitivity.
4. Sensitivity defines the individual. At its highest level, it identifies the artist.
5. Great sensitivity is the most powerful characteristic of any beautiful artistic creation.
6. The most seductive element in art is the artist’s own personality.
7. The artist gives form to his sensibility, to his own, innate individuality.
8. The nobility of an artist’s creation reveals his soul.
9. The artist materializes and individualizes.
10. The artist knows the joy of being able to communicate to others his excitement about nature, that masterpiece whose mysteries he believes he has deciphered.
11. Genius is the ability to renew one’s emotion by daily contact with nature.
12. For the artist seeing is creating; creating is composing.
13. Because the artist does not note down his emotions as the bird sings his song: he composes.
14. The universality of the immediate impact of a work of art does not indicate its importance.

These are gems, and I’ll continue the list with the next post. There’s lots to consider here before moving on.

What are your thoughts?

Artists Representing Ourselves

2010-10-05T21:54:00.000-04:00

Thanks all for a lively discussion on the last post! It was great. I'm back in Maine through Columbus Day, and living in the world of dial-up. Therefore, I haven't been able to follow some of your blogs and must apologize. I'll catch up next week.

Soon, there'll be another book to review, but first I have a few things on my mind like: representation. I don't know any artists who use an agent and the agents that have approached me all want money up front. My firm answer to that is always "No! if you want to represent me then you must take a commission from the sale of my work." Otherwise it's a scam since the agent gets paid a fee in advance and, therefore, has no incentive to sell anything.

When galleries represent me they typically take 50% and sometimes want more. And then, there's the problem of being paid in a timely manner. However, I always get a contract and review it with a fine-toothed comb. You can't be too careful these days.

So far this year I've sold 37 paintings, mostly through galleries. In 2009 I sold fewer paintings, but not through galleries. I haven't explored selling on e.bay or similar sites, but have read that some folks make a lot of money doing this. Sometimes I sell directly from my website, but then I have to be careful to avoid scams.

I suppose there are fortunate few who are represented by high-end galleries that only require the artist to supply them with paintings and they take care of everything else year after year. For me, it would be like winning the lottery. If only I could stay in my studio and paint and someone else could take care of the business end!

But, I've always done things the hard way. How about you?

Maintaining a Private Creative Life

2010-10-05T07:01:00.000-04:00

Before I begin a new book, I'd like to discuss an article I just read in the most recent issue of Art Calendar: "Side Trips and Detours: Maintaining a Private Creative Life" by Matthew Daub. He begins with:

Nothing confuses art dealers more than variety. When an artist reveals more than one body of work at a time, many dealers scratch their heads and question whether the artist really knows what he or she is doing. Graduate school acceptance committees usually react the same way, as do most exhibition jurors. Collectors are often confused and put off when an artist they have had an interest in suddenly changes direction midstream. While certain established artists may get a free pass when it comes to exhibiting eclectic bodies of work, for most of us, it's the kiss of death. This is a very real dilemma facing artists in the marketplace. If consistency is favored, does that put pressure on us to continue making the same work in the same way throughout our entire careers?

Good question!

This is something I've been thinking about for years. I always paint in a series (thematically) and change the theme every few years. For instance, my Wine series lasted one year and was followed by the All Cracked Up series which lasted five years. Now, I'm working on the Laws of Nature series. Those are just my series in watercolor. Simultaneously, I created other series in oil and in acrylics. My painting style is always the same, but the themes change.

When I approach a gallery, I highlight only one series. However, on my website I have several series posted. Looks like I'm guilty of doing exactly what Daub warns us against. As I wrote earlier, I have thought about this for a long time and it still nags me. Perhaps I should make a change.

What does Daub recommend? Having two sets of work: public and private. The public works are those that you want to hang your reputation on - and they are consistent. The private works are everything else we create. They may or may not see the light of day. I've heard of artists who use a pseudonym for these other works of art and openly sell them under that disguise. Not a bad idea, but tricky.

I'm still pondering all this and would like to know what you think.

What's your opinion?

The Art of Gum-Ball Machines, and Other Simple Pleasures

2010-10-04T07:36:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Painting by Wayne Thiebauld

Chapter 10: The Art of Gum-Ball Machines, and Other Simple Pleasures

This is the final chapter in Kimmelman’s book and a good summary of the artist’s nature. He begins by contrasting the typical “harried existence” of most people which keeps them from truly seeing what’s in front of them to the existence of the artists who patiently observe and consider the world around them. For instance, Wayne Thiebaud’s paintings of ordinary things, like a gumball machine, or Vincent VanGogh’s gorgeous renderings of the everyday objects and settings. There are a myriad of examples – more than I can name – of art that elevates the ordinary to the extraordinary. This is the role of the artist. Our heightened awareness and meaningful interpretations of the world as we know it serve to show others the beauty and wonder of their world as well.

Ellsworth Kelly, famous for his focus on the little details of the everyday world “tells us that the world is full of small miracles … these miracles are accessible to all of us, at almost any time, if we are just prepared to look for them." And, Marcel Proust said, “Great painters initiate us into a knowledge and love of the external world.” I think that great artists initiate us into a knowledge and love of who we are as humans – our “selves.”

What’s interesting to me is the different way in which artists express themselves: abstraction, realism, impressionism, Dadaism, “you name it”-ism. Our expressions of our perceptions take on a wide variety of forms when we commit them to a work of art. Thiebauld interprets a gumball machine one way and another artist would interpret it differently. Through our expressions, we show the rest of the world another way of seeing life. Thankfully, each artists perceives and expresses in a different way. That difference is critical to producing masterful art and is why I strongly object to art instructors who insist that students, for instance, paint a rose “this way” or a chair “that way” or a landscape using only “these colors,” etc. They behave as though there’s only one specific way to express what we see in our paintings. This serves only to suppress the mind and voice of the artist and I’m strongly opposed to it.

As Kimmelman writes “every great painter is great by his or her own terms.” We are all unique, and we should be. Vive la difference!! He writes of the Parisian artist, Chardin, who found “art in cups and saucers and in the streets, too." I disagree. I think we find art in ourselves. It is we artists who transform the ordinary into something more. This is where the "accidental masterpiece" originates.

What are your thoughts?

The Art of the Pilgrimage

2010-10-01T08:37:00.001-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Photo: "Spiral Jetty" by Robert Smithson, constructed in the Great Salt Lake, Utah in 1970

Chapter 9: The Art of the Pilgrimage

Over a hundred years ago, the author tells us, Walter Benjamin predicted that mechanical reproduction would eradicate the aura of the original art object for the masses that are ‘bent toward overcoming the uniqueness of every reality by accepting its reproduction.’ Benjamin offered the prospect that eventually any work of art in the world might be available in reproduction at the touch of a button or a click of a mouse. But, Kimmelman argues, the opposite is true. There’s been a notable increase in the number of people visiting museums, galleries and other art-specific sites. Nevertheless, We did lose something during the last century … it was a sufficient appreciation for the virtues of the pilgrimage.

The author takes it a step further. He enjoys visiting a work of art where it was made; for example, a fresco on a Renaissance chapel wall or an earthworks project in the Nevada desert. The point is A modest pilgrimage may restore to the act of looking at art in its desired and essential otherness. It can get us back to the root of art as an expression of what’s exceptional in life. How true!

Kimmelman points out that All art is site-specific in the moment that we are looking at it, being affected by its surroundings, whether the context is a crowded museum or a friend’s living room or an empty chapel, but perhaps especially art that is itself the reason you went to that place. That makes a lot of sense to me. For over forty years I’ve made the annual pilgrimage to view one particular painting in a certain museum. It’s a time of renewal and regeneration for me and also helps me better understand that single work of art.

Artists make works one at a time, Kimmelman adds, which is how we should experience them. The ethos of giant exhibitions, with dozens or hundreds of paintings, is antithetical to the conception of a work of art. I agree with this statement as well. When there’s too much to see then there’s nothing to see. I go into sensory overload and don’t spend the amount of time that I should viewing any single work of art. More is not more.

Kimmelman dedicates most of this chapter since to descriptions of art-specific sites that he visited mostly in the western part of this country. It makes a good read.

Next time I’ll post the final chapter of this book.
Have a great weekend, everybody!

What your thoughts?

The Series Continues ...

2010-09-30T07:00:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a quick break from reviewing Kimmelman's book, mostly because I'm getting bogged-down in the next to last chapter and need to spend some time distilling it. I'll post from it tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll show you my latest painting and give you an update on the series as a whole.

As you already know, I always work in series based upon a central concept. My most recent series, entitled The Laws of Nature, is a comment on the constraints on technology by the natural laws that govern our universe. This is why humans can't build the "perfect" machine that runs on perpetual motion. All of our efforts are and will be limited and imperfect. So, each painting in this series is my interpretation of a particular natural law as it applies to a fatally flawed mechanical system.

All paintings in this series are watercolor on paper and 26" x 20" in size. I don't use models or photographs for reference. Rather, I rely on my imagination and intuition to draft and paint.

Yesterday, I completed the seventh painting in this series, entitled The First Law of Thermodynamics (below).

The Universal Law of Gravity (slideshow above) is now hanging in the 30th Annual International Exhibition of the San Diego Watercolor Society where it also won an award.

The Law of Reciprocal Action (slideshow above) is now hanging in the Aqueous USA exhibition sponsored by the Kentucky Watercolor Society where it, too, won an award.

Entropy (slideshow above) has just been juried into the 34th Annual International Exhibition of the North East Watercolor Society and will be hung next month.

Finally, The Zeroth Law of Thermodynamics (slideshow above) appears in the ebook and DVD entitled A Walk Into Abstracts: How Did They Do That? by Sue St. John. Northlight books will produce this book in hard copy next year.

So, that's the update. Presently, I'm formulating thoughts about the next (eighth) painting in this series. I hope to complete at least two dozen or more.

Tomorrow: Chapter 9 of Kimmelman's book.

Happy painting!

The Art of Staring Productively at Naked Bodies

2010-09-29T06:58:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 8: The Art of Staring Productively at Naked Bodies

My husband saw the title of this chapter and wants to practice! However, I suspect that’s not what Kimmelman has in mind … or, does he? Let’s see.

For as long as there have been artists there have been different strategies for depicting the nude. Some nudes have been realistic while others are fantastical or morphed into allegorical forms. Still others may be abstracted to an unrecognizable state. Renaissance artists and many contemporary artists deemed it necessary to study human anatomy in order to better render the human form. And then, there are the shock artists and pornographers.

Kimmelman dedicates most of this chapter to time he spent with the contemporary visual artist Philip Pearlstein. A painter of nudes, Pearlstein’s work is most unusual because he incorporates elaborate still lifes in his work (photo). He also works with different models on different days so he works on several paintings simultaneously in a repetitiously methodical way. The author spent months observing Pearlstein’s process and revealed a number of daily habits practiced by Pearlstein that enhance his productivity. The artist explained it this way: “The act of re-creating the visual experience of the models in front of me is absolutely absorbing, leaving no room for extraneous thoughts, sexual or otherwise. My routine is my way of controlling hysteria… There’s no way to get rid of emotion in art. It’s just a question of making something constructive out of it. … I wake up every morning and get to work. It’s my little contribution to civilization.”

Pearlstein established a routine that enhances his ability to intensely focus on his work. I try to do the same thing: post my blog, go to the studio and paint, lunch, paint, dinner, relax and read. This routine changes during the summers because I love kayaking and hiking. But, the moment those activities end I'm back at my routine.

Focus, routine, dedication… sounds like a formula for success to me.

What are your thoughts and routines?

The Art of Finding Yourself When You're Lost

2010-09-28T08:56:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 7: The Art of Finding Yourself When You’re Lost

True stress and danger bring out the best in some people and inspire art in a few. Kimmelman provides numerous examples of this fact, including Picasso’s masterful work which he produced when Paris was occupied. A long time ago I posted another another remarkable example, the Indian artist Sonabai, who was forced into a decade of solitary confinement in her own home where she created a whole new art form.

Additionally, there are the quilters of a poor and isolated community in Gee’s Bend, Alabama (this one's for you PAMO!). Geographical isolation and poverty preserved generations of elaborate and unique quilting designs made from worn and left-over clothing fabrics and cornmeal sacks (photo). The author praises their quilts as some of the most miraculous works of modern art America has ever produced. Folks, if you’ve never seen these quilts, do yourself a favor and look them up on the web.

There are also many stories of remarkable art that emerged during the term of a prisoner’s incarceration. Ray Materson, for instance, taught himself to embroider unique and highly skilled baseball-related pictures. Much of his work is smaller than a baseball card and contains 1,200 stitches per square inch!

Kimmelman devotes most of this chapter on the work of Australian photographer Frank Hurley who served on the Endurance during Shackleton’s ill-fated exploration of Antarctica. Hurley’s photographs were much more than illustrations of his surroundings, they were fine art – art created in a physically hostile environment during a struggle for survival. The best of these images have an extraordinarily modern quality, stark and stirring; their reduction to irregular geometric forms brings to mind Alexander Calder or Ellsworth Kelly.

After his rescue, Hurley continued to photograph and film various situations and events, but his work suffered. It lost its impact and artistry. Kimmelman makes an excellent point about this: If we are affluent enough today, we live amid a mounting glut of distracting choices, killing our time mulling over what food to eat, which clothes to wear or gadgets to buy, where to go on vacation. We can easily lose our way. When Hurley gained choices, he lost his focus. Wearing the same clothes, eating the same seal pemmican, staying in the same place, day in and day out, he was better able to concentrate on making the most with what he had at hand. That’s perhaps his most enduring lesson. The same may be said of Sonabai, the quilters of Gee’s Bend, and Ray Materson. Perhaps the real lesson is that no matter what our circumstances, it is only when we completely focus on creating and ignore the distractions around us that we produce our best work.

What are your thoughts?

The Art of Maximizing Your Time

2010-09-26T23:16:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

painting by Alice Neel

Chapter 6: The Art of Maximizing Your Time

Well, here’s a topic that piques my interest, and the opening sentences in this chapter strongly resonate with me: Sometimes art can be a refuge from life, and in extreme cases it is a second chance at life. Another way to put the familiar phrase about the relative lengths of art and life is to say that what makes great art great is that it remains eternally young, while we don’t. How true! Just visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and you’ll see people of all ages looking with awe at paintings that were completed a century or more ago. The relevance and appeal of this art persists through generations of social change.

Kimmelman writes about artists who take risks to create great art; who challenge their creative limits. Coincidentally, earlier today I watched a documentary about one such artist, Alice Neel. She lived and raised her children in poverty while dedicating her life to painting portraits. Not just any portraits, but truly “great” ones that delved into the soul of humanity without blinking. Her paintings are bold relentless examinations of the human condition. However, it was only after painting for 50 years without making sales that she finally got her big break – a solo show at the Whitney Museum in New York City.

As I mentioned earlier, the author gives examples of artists (Jay DeFeo, Eva Hesse, and other women) who gave their all – maximized their time - to create great art. For them, this required a willingness to fail, which is generally a sign of optimism as well as a prerequisite for making good art. Hesse wrote in her diary “All my stakes are in my work. I have given up in all else. Like my whole reality is there – I am all there.” We may or may not have the support of those around us in our pursuit of artmaking, but that shouldn’t matter. If we’re truly oblivious to discouragement, we’ll devote ourselves to our work and maximize our time.

Kimmelman also writes of the moving story about a young Jewish German artist named Charlotte Salomon who endured the Holocaust and was murdered at Auschwitz at the young age of twenty-six. The story is so moving and well-written that I’ll leave it to my readers to pick up this book and read it. What Charlotte left behind was a 1,300 page quasi-fictional diary of text and pictures entitled Life? Theater? A Play with Music. This diary included gouache paintings, hand-written text, and musical notation. According to Kimmelman: her work preached deliverance through everylasting love. This great work was produced under the worst possible conditions in a relatively short period of time.

The efforts of all these women, and other “great” artists, outlived them. Will our art outlive us? What are we willing to do to make that happen? As I enter my “senior” years of life I often think about how to maximize the time I have left. But, I’m really not a Type-A (more like an A-minus) so I doubt that I’ll ever become obsessed with maximization. However, I’ll try to keep up the pace.

How about you?

The Art of Collecting LIghtbulbs

2010-09-23T18:26:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 5: The Art of Collecting Lightbulbs

The author once met a Baltimore dentist named Hugh Frances Hicks shortly before his death at age 79 in 2002. Dr. Hicks had collected 75,000 items that were either lightbulbs or things related to lightbulbs. Many are historically significant, like some of Edison's earliest experiments. His is the largest such collection in the world and he turned his basement into a museum called the Mount Vernon Museum of Incandescent Lighting.

Kimmelman queries “Why do people collect?” And, specifically, why did Dr. Hicks collect lightbulbs? Evidently, it began when Hicks was a toddler and his mother gave him an old lightbulb to play with. One thing led to the next and, before you know it, he became a dedicated collector.

In general, Kimmelman speculates that “some people collect because collecting can be a great art if earnestly engaged in.” This, he explains, accounts for why most of us like viewing collections even if we aren’t collectors ourselves. Also, “collecting is a way to bring order to the world” or “it is also a way to define some idiosyncratic niche for the collector, as art does for an artist.” I can add another reason: obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). My deceased father-in-law had many collections: 1,500 works of art; 1,200 art books; 500 Santa Claus figures; over 200 pairs of glasses; hundreds of clocks, and many other collections. It was mind-boggling and a nightmare for my sister-in-law who took it upon herself to clean out his house before selling it.

But, I digress. The point is, serious collectors are ubiquitous and many of their collections are art forms. “Collected objects become symbolic when they lose their utilitarian purpose … Their uselessness becomes their asset: they turn into totems and fragments of the lost worlds they came from.” These lost worlds, like art, provide the viewers with a sense of wonderment. They heighten our curiosity and help us become more aware of our surroundings.

Back to Dr. Hicks. Evidently, psychiatrists once visited him as a part of their investigation into why collectors collect. “They were something,” he said. “They didn’t blink their eyes. They were interviewing collectors from all over the world. After spending $4 million, they concluded that collectors collect for the fascination of an object and for no other reason. Heck, I would have told them that for $1 million.”

So, now I’m wondering if we artists compulsively create art for the same reason that collectors collect. Is it fascination??

What are your thoughts?

P.S. Have a great weekend! I’ll be back on Monday.

The Art of Making Art Without Lifting a Finger

2010-09-23T08:50:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 4: The Art of Making Art Without Lifting a Finger

Art on one level already may be a state of mind. Of course it is first of all a physical object with which we interact in the moment. But after we have seen a work, what do we take away except a memory of it? And memory is thought, a mental seed planted by the artist, which is reproduced in as many different variations as the number of people in whom the memory exists. What makes art good is partly its power to proliferate as a variable memory, an intangible concept, filtered through individual consciousness.

To support this point of view, Kimmelman provides the interesting tale of Pop Art’s Ray Johnson. Johnson (1927 – 1995) was primarily a collage artist (photo), but also engaged in performance and conceptual art. One of his great contributions was the innovation known as “Mail Art.” His final artistic creation was his own suicide. Before jumping off the bridge into the frigid January waters of Long Island Sound at the age of 67 (6+7=13), he checked into Room 247 (2+4+7=13) of the Baron’s Cove Inn at Sag Harbor Cove (both of which to 13 letters). He also left behind an enormous puzzle of his collages on a wall in his house: a forensic challenge. It is interesting that his body was found floating upon the waters face up with his arms neatly folded across his chest – a work completed. This artwork now exists only in our minds, which as Kimmelman suggests is reproduced in as many different variations as the number of people in whom the memory exists.

Of course, this way of thinking erases the boundary between “art” and “not art.” Is every thought, every manufactured thing a work of art just because we think it is? Duschamp’s ready-mades support that notion. Robert Rauschenberg declared it to be “art” when he erased a drawing of de Kooning. Artist Yves Klein’s show, “Le Vide” (“The Void”), at a gallery in Paris attracted mobs of people into a gallery that contained no art at all. The list of artists who engaged in conceptual art is endless. The point was to “elevate the ordinary” and to achieve a “heightened state of awareness.” So, everday life became a work of art.

Is the “idea” more durable than the physical work of art itself? If so, then there is no line drawn between art and everyday life. They are, as Kimmelman suggests, one.

What are your thoughts?

The Art of Having a Lofty Perspective

2010-09-22T09:25:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 3: The Art of Having a Lofty Perspective

This chapter is about “beauty” and covers many of the same topics we’ve already discussed here, from the Greek philosophers to Hume, Kant, and Danto. However, Kimmelman provides another perspective which he illustrates through a story about mountain climbing. At one point in his life, he wanted to scale Mount Sainte-Victoire, the same peak that inspired Cezanne (photo). Expecting a mountain-top epiphany, the author was disappointed to find that no such enlightenment occurred and so he began to speculate about why.

One clue might be in how we understand “beauty.” According to philosopher and art critic Arthur Danto, beauty, if it is not to be solely decorative, should also have a deeper rationale for being in art; it should be intrinsic to the meaning of art. This removes the superficial aspect of beauty and provides a deeper meaning that must be deciphered through an effort to understand its meaning.

Danto's notion nicely coincides with David Hume’s. Hume, who separated natural beauty from beauty in art, saying that natural beauty just hits you in the face – it is plainly there, and if you fail to recognize it, too bad, no rational explanation of nature’s beauty will redress your failure – whereas beauty in art depends on reasoning and critical analysis: people may come around to seeing beauty in art through reasoned argument.

The author uses two examples to support these philosophies: Duschamp’s “readymades” which have been critically accepted as art, such as “The Fountain” (a urinal); and, Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s wrapping of the Reichstage which was, during the planning stage, met with outrage by Berliners but later embraced as “the symbolism of turning the new seat of a reunified Germany into a chrysalis and then unwrapping it.”

Continuing his quest for enlightenmnet, Kimmelman hikes a second peak. This time, he has an epiphany of sorts. He realized that all deep understanding of beauty may in fact be acculturated. That is, “art becomes our entree to the sublime. It illustrates that beauty is not something static and predictable and always there at the top of a mountain, but an organic, shifting, elusive, and therefore more desirable goal of our devotion, which we must make an effort to grasp.

Personally, I agree. Isn't this why "beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" If beauty were a standardized, quantifiable entity arrived at by formulaic means or limited to only one set of standards wouldn't it become ordinary and lacking the "sublime"? Don't we bring our individual thoughts, ideas, and experiences into play when we deem something to be beautiful? Yes, emotions play a role, but not without cognitive processes.

What are your thoughts?

The Art of Being Artless

2010-09-21T08:41:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman (2005)

Chapter 2: The Art of Being Artless

Yesterday, we engaged in a good discussion about chapter 1. The central theme of this book is to encourage us to keep our eyes open, to be more alert to the serendipitous events that can inspire our work. These events occur within our everyday lives and may well be disguised as seemingly unimportant if we fail to look closely or to pursue them. The author also urges us to consider the fact that we can learn, among other things, that a life lived with art in mind might itself be a kind of art. What a beautiful thought!

In the case of Bonnard, his muse was Marthe. According to Kimmelman, Pierre dated the birth of his painterly identity to shortly after they met. To a lesser degree, I, too, can point to a specific time when my work significantly changed and I suspect there will be future times that will be marked as a turning point as well.

In Chapter 2, Kimmelman discusses unintentional art. Sometimes art appears unexpectedly. It doesn’t arrive through the front door. It sneaks in the back, the more startling for being the result of dumb luck. Several interesting examples are provided, but the one that caught my attention is a photograph by Anonymous that hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s a picture from the 1930’s of a woman with one leg propped on the running board of a car with the man in the car looking out at her. There’s a surprising beauty and symmetry to this photo. Clearly, the photographer was an amateur and probably had no idea that he/she had created a work of art. The author speculates that the photo may have made its way to someone’s attic, and eventually to a dumpster or flea market where it was scavenged by a dealer-collector. Eventually, Thomas Walther at the Met acquired it.

This discussion is preceded by an interesting journey through the transformation of photography from a solely professional activity to a popular amateur one thanks to the invention of the Kodak camera by Eastman. As an aside – I was interested to learn that the name “Kodak” was made up by Eastman because “k” was his favorite letter and he thought the name would be easy to remember. The early popular cameras didn’t have viewfinders, so the results were often accidental. The popularity and affordability of these cameras produced a sea of shutter-bugs and a few accidental masterpieces.

Kimmelman also discusses Bob Ross, TV’s art guru. Ross did not get bogged down in the issue of whether his cheesy paintings were actually good. Nor did he really care whether anybody even painted along with him… Ross’s message was: You may feel hemmed in by work or by family, but before an easel you are your own master... His purpose was as much to massage souls as it was to teach painting... He sold hope. I remember watching several episodes in Ross’s series and, although I didn’t like the paintings he executed, I was entranced by his sincere joyfulness about the act of painting. "Happy clouds" "Happy trees"! It was soothing and encouraging. Perhaps this is why he had such a large following. The books mentions that only 3% of Ross’s viewers actually painting along with him. So, the other 97% may have been, like me, attracted to the soothing aspect of his delivery. Nevertheless, did a few accidental masterpieces result because of his influence? Maybe.

The point is, a masterpiece doesn’t necessarily occur at the hands of a master artist. It can be the product of an amateur. I’m wondering if Kimmelman is changing the meaning of the word “masterpiece.” Webster’s defines the word in terms of a piece being produced through extreme skill. This implies expertise and intention. But, Kimmelman feels that a masterpiece can be an accidental product of an amateur without skills. I’m not certain that I agree, but will think about it further.

What do you think?

The Art of Making a World

2010-09-20T11:16:00.000-04:00

The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa
By Michael Kimmelman, 2005

Chapter 1: The Art of Making a World

In this chapter, Kimmelman takes us behind the scenes into the intimate and seclusive lives of Pierre Bonnard and his wife, Marthe. Their world was carefully constructed to satisfy Marthe’s need for extreme privacy. Whether or not Pierre wanted this lifestyle is unclear, but he nevertheless created and maintained it at least for Marthe’s sake. The natural consequence was that Bonnard chose to find inspiration, beauty, and meaning from his immediate surroundings and from introspection. As Kimmelman writes, that was precisely Bonnard’s gift to posterity. He explored his world every day, and as he did so, it became more and more fantastical. In his own words, Bonnard explained it this way: People always speak of submission to nature. There is also submission to the picture. Even the most ordinary surroundings can inspire a masterpiece, especially if the goal is to create a work of art rather than a faithful rendition of one's surroundings.

Viewing Bonnard’s work is a voyage into a fantastical place. He transforms his world from ordinary to extraordinary by enhancing reality through color and form manipulation, disguised or nearly obscured forms that add nuanced meaning to the work, and brushwork that enlivens his subjects. Bonnard's world as he senses it becomes apparent; it’s meaningful and it’s alive.

What was the catalyst for the transformation of Bonnard's paintings from skillful to masterful? Kimmelman wrote in the Introduction to this book that The consequence of his [Bonnard’s] meeting Marthe was, you might say, an accidental masterpiece. Or to put it another way, Bonnard made his novel deep, and beautiful art out of what seemed to many friends and observers a claustrophobic and sometimes unfortunate relationship. To live intensely is one of the basic human desires and an artistic necessity. Bonnard, in his elective reclusiveness with Marthe, lived all the more intensely through his work. His force of will in so doing was a creative and illustrative act.

Lately, I’ve been paying attention to the madness and methods of those who achieve – who excel beyond their own wildest dreams. What do they all have in common? Imagination, passion, focus, a sense of purpose, perseverance, ability to avoid distractions, and fearlessness. There are so many “artists” in the world today but how many of us elect to own these characteristics? How many of us take full advantage of creating a masterpiece derived from our intimate world? How easily do we turn aside from our passion and goals in the face of failure and distractions?

If I were double-jointed I would buy a pair of sharp-toed cowboy boots and kick myself in the butt every time I am distracted from my art making in order to pursue something that ends up being a total waste of time, that fails to inform my work. For instance, watching TV or doing something that someone else should be doing instead. Am I serious about making art or not? Ouch! My butt hurts.

Kimmelman's words are true: To live intensely is one of the basic human desires and an artistic necessity.

What are your thoughts?

The Accidental Masterpiece

2010-09-19T09:00:00.000-04:00

It’s time to review and discuss another book, and I was lucky enough to find The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa by Michael Kimmelman (2005). One quick read through the Introduction and I was hooked! This is a good one.

Kimmelman is chief art critic of The New York Times and has written other books related to art. This particular book became a New York Times Bestseller and received rave reviews. Personally, I like his informed and accessible writing style and can’t wait to read the rest of the book and share it with you as I read it.

Today, I’ll begin with Kimmelman’s Introduction – his purpose for writing this book. The idea behind ‘The Accidental Masterpiece,’ the one that popped into my head at some point, is pretty simple. It is not that I should write a book of art history or criticism, exactly, or solely dwell on the accomplishments of the greatest or of my favorite painters, sculptors, and photographers. Nor is it that all art is salutary. A day of looking at bad art can be long and dark. Instead, it is that … art provides us with clues about how to live our own lives more fully. Put differently, this book is, in part, about how creating, collecting, and even just appreciating art can make living a daily masterpiece. I have come to feel that everything, even the most ordinary daily affair, is enriched by the lessons that can be gleaned from art: that beauty is often where you don’t expect to find it; that it is something we may discover and also invent, then reinvent, for ourselves; that the most important things in the world are never as simple as they seem but that the world is also richer when it declines to abide by comforting formulas. And that it is always good to keep your eyes wide open, because you never know what you will discover.

Parts of this fascinating Introduction deal with chance occurrences that lead to the creation of an “accidental masterpiece." For instance, when Pierre Bonnard encountered for the first time the woman who would become the “defining figure of his life and work”, Maria Boursin.
Kimmelman segues between the Introduction and rest of the text by writing What follows are some of my own points of contact with things greater than myself. This promises to be a wonderful journey.

Hope you’ll join me!

Art Instruction Books

2010-09-17T07:44:00.000-04:00

Photo: A wonderful group of students at a rehabilitation center beginning to learn watercolors.

Now that I’m back in New York, I decided to look through my bookshelves and was alarmed by the magnitude of my neglected collection of art instruction books. I suspect that I’m not the only person on the planet to own a large number of these books. I also suspect I’m not the only person guilty of reading through an art instruction book once or twice, trying a few tips, and then putting it on the bookshelf to collect dust for eternity. I don’t even want to think about how much money I spent on these books!

When I go to the bookstore I’m amazed at how many of these books exist! How do these authors convince a publishing house that they have something new and different worth publishing? Hmmm… this thought led me to reread the introductions of my books to see. Here’s a sampling:

Creative Discoveries in Watermedia by Pat Dews. Introduction statement: “Techniques are methods of rendering artistic works, procedures used to translate your ideas into finished paintings. Being familiar with a variety of techniques makes it easier to represent your ideas. This book includes many techniques for starting and finishing successful paintings, as well as how to generate excitement, create new surfaces, correct mistakes, crop creatively and much more.”

Master Disaster: Five Ways to Rescue Desperate Watercolors by Susan Webb Tregay. Introduction statement: “There are two reasons that this book is different from others on watercolor painting. First, I have learned that the detailed planning of a painting is not always desirable. Flexibility, rather than the perfect plan, is what makes finishing a painting possible. This book will allow you the freedom to be motivated by spontaneous washes of color and flashes of inspiration… Second, I am not writing this to teach you how to paint like me. My purpose is to teach you how to finish your own paintings in your own style. You will learn how to paint like yourself – only better.”

A Proven Strategy for Creating Great Art by Dan McCaw. Introduction statement: “My goal in writing this book is to provide you with a map leading you toward the treasure that lies within you – your individuality, your own voice.”

Watercolor: A New Beginning by Ann K. Lindsay. Introduction statement: “This book is the result of my quest to find a way of teaching watercolor that would work for everyone, that would let anyone experience painting as an enjoyable, playful, and magical part of his or her life. It also came from my own growing understanding that making art is an intuitive process, yet as far as I had seen, it had always been taught from a rational point of view. Increasingly, this just didn’t make sense. I began to feel that teaching techniques, rules, principles, and theories first was simply not appropriate and, more often than not, shut down a person’s own creative process.”

How to Make a Watercolor Paint Itself: Experimental Techniques for Achieving Realist Effects by Nita Engle. Introduction statement: “Rather than teach you the basics of composition, color theory, and the like – information you can readily find elsewhere – I will tell you how I discovered my own identity in painting, how I found out why I do what I do, and help you find your own answers so you can turn the techniques I present to your own use.”

Color and Light for the Watercolor Painter: How to Get the Effects You Want Every Time by Christopher Schink. Introductory statement: “Most of the painters I encounter in my classes have developed enough skill in color mixing to produce a great variety of the colors they desire. Their problem is not technique; where they have difficulty is in deciding where, when, and how to use their mixtures, and most importantly, in understanding why certain choices work or do not work. In this book I have attempted to provide answers to these problems, but not necessarily the infallibly right answers, and certainly not the only answers.”

Creative Watercolor Workshops: Challenge Your Artistic Boundaries With 25 Fund Painting Exercises by Mark E. Mehaffey. Introduction statement: “Why write another book about painting? The answer is simple: I am a teacher. I have ideas that I believe will help artists. But this book is designed to get you to think about what you want to accomplish rather than to just follow along. This book will help you paint like you, not like me.”

And so on…

In rereading these lofty goals I can see why I was enticed to purchase these books and it’s true that I learned something from each one. BUT, it can be confusing to try to learn and adhere to this myriad of approaches to creating art. In the balance, were all these books helpful or confusing? Did they help me learn to paint like “me” but only better or did they lead me to imitate? Did they influence my aesthetic sensibility to the point of conformity?

I must ponder these questions and, as I do so, I think I’ll head to the bookstore and find another book!

What do you think?

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2010-09-16T08:35:00.000-04:00

Hello friends!! I apologize for my prolonged absence from the blogosphere. However, my summer home in Maine doesn't allow me easy access to the internet. So, I'll use today's post to let you know what I've been up to for the past three months and then try to find something more interesting to discuss that is related to "art" tomorrow, now that I'm back in New York.

For those of you who've been following this blog you already know that I hung two exhibitions this summer. The first exhibition was hung in June/July at the Port Clyde Gallery in Maine. It was well attended and I sold ten paintings. The second exhibition was held in August/September in New York and (coincidentally) I sold ten paintings there as well!

I managed to teach a few art workshops over the summer and thoroughly enjoyed my students. It's wonderful to witness that "aha!" moment when a student realizes a new direction and begins to achieve mastery. I look forward to working with new students as time progresses.

I completed very few of my own paintings this summer, but that's what Fall/Winter/Spring is for. Pretty soon (tomorrow) I'll isolate myself in my studio and continue working on my series "The Laws of Nature." So far, three paintings from this series have been juried into major exhibitions: The San Diego Watercolor Society's 30th International Exhibition where my painting won the Dick Blick award, The Aqueous USA 2010 exhibtion, and The 34th Annual Open International Exhibition 2010 of the North East Watercolor Society.

My work appears in three books and a DVD this summer, and I'll include more information about this in future posts.

Now for the best part: I bought a kayak!! It's a Scirocco sixteen-foot long sea-going kayak. I also took a course in paddling techniques and rescue. I have a deep love for all things aquatic and getting out on the ocean in a kayak is a blast.

I've just finished reading all your wonderful comments from the summer and am blown-away by the substance and insights! Can't wait to see how our future discussions develop!

It's good to be "back."

Fine Art: Public or Private?

2010-08-07T07:05:00.000-04:00

Last evening I viewed a documentary/opinion movie entitled “The Art of the Steal.” It focused upon how the Philadelphia Museum of Art managed to acquire and control the most important and valuable private collection of art, known as The Barnes Foundation, established by Albert C. Barnes in 1922. This foundation housed one of the world’s largest collections of Impressionist, Post-Impressionist and early Modern paintings purchased by Dr. Barnes with money he made from pharmaceuticals. At this point the collection is worth an estimated $35 billion. Housed in a beautiful building (photo) nearly five miles south of Philadelphia, Barnes hung his collection for the purposes of education. The Foundation’s “school” annually enrolled a small number of fine art students under the instruction of an even smaller contingent of faculty. The public was allowed access to view the collection only two days a week. Barnes hated the social elite in Philadelphia and had his lawyers draft a will to keep his Foundation intact and specifically out of the hands of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Time, greed, loopholes in the will, and political shenanigans undermined Barnes’ attempt to keep his Foundation intact as a private instructional institution with limited public access. In the year 2014 his collection will move into a newly constructed building in association with the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and under the control of the Pew Foundation. This, of course, will bring in millions of tourist dollars annually for the city of Philadelphia. Barnes must be rolling in his grave.

I mention all this because it raises an interesting question: Is it imperative that the general public gain access to any and all significant private collections of fine art that exist? In other words, is the owner of a significant private collection of fine art beholden to the general public to share it? Who really owns great works of art, and when is a collection significantly large enough to become public domain?

What is your viewpoint?