My review of the Puryear retrospective

My review of Marjorie Durko Puryear's retrospective show at Artworks gallery in New Bedford appeared in yesterday's New Bedford Standard-Times: please click here to read.

Intense studio day yields some answers

Last week was my first full week of the semester, and I didn't have a second of extra time to paint between Monday and Thursday, so I had it carefully planned that on Friday (yesterday), I would do NOTHING but paint.

I created the painting here, which is 40 inches square on stretched canvas. I enjoyed working on this piece very much, and the process made me decide that I'm going to revisit two techniques I developed in graduate school (12 years ago!) to enhance acrylic applications -- namely, oil sticks and tissue paper.

The oil sticks, to me, MUST be R&F pigment sticks. Unfortunately, because they are an extremely expensive brand, but fortunately, because they smell HEAVENLY and they interact well with acrylic -- i.e., they sit on top of acrylic if you want them to, but can be obscured with additional layers if you want them to be. (They must be R&F because no other brand is so creamy or offers such unique colors.)

With the tissue paper, I used to tear it and place it (fairly) randomly on a fresh canvas, and that would determine how I would compose the painting. It must be a dark color -- brown, black, navy, wine -- so that this layer will hold its place as a background, and it must be the kind of tissue paper that loses color when it's wet, or it will remain too solid and dull. (Beautiful colors result when the dyes run, colors that you couldn't mix on purpose.)

I think these techniques will work well with the direction I now seem to be taking -- curving lines on a square surface -- because I am trying to create some degree of depth, and the all-over lines I usually use threaten to be too flat. (While I'm sometimes going for flat, in this case, I think implied depth could be intriguing.)

So we'll see. I just drove to three stores before I found the right tissue paper, and I'll have to order the pigment sticks, so it will be a while before I can put this plan into motion. But for now, I'm happy to be starting in a new direction (still influenced by the old).

Open studio madness!

I've never participated in an open studio situation before. Either I had a gallery to represent my work, or I only had large pieces that likely wouldn't be purchased for home settings, or I was painting at home and didn't have an affiliation with a group of artists working in the same building.

But since I am now a "free agent," with the sad closing of my former Boston gallery, and with the economy being what it is, I figured, why not give it a try? So this year I decided to join the arts community in New Bedford, MA, for their open studio event in October. This is a group with which I have a natural connection, since that's where I attended graduate school, and I lived and worked there for 8 years (1995 to 2003), and I write for the city newspaper.

Never having done this before, I spent time over the summer preparing some small canvases to sell at reasonable prices (such as the one above), figuring this is what visitors will likely be able to afford and fit into their homes. It's been fun making these small works, but I've been pretty casual about it up until now, as working specifically "to sell" isn't my usual mode of creation.

Then last week, I received my copies of the programs and postcards for the event, and it all became REAL! I realized that in some ways this is like a show, with guests viewing my work in a public space. And now I've become obsessed!

Since Saturday, I've been making canvas after canvas. I've made greeting cards. I've been grabbing unsuccessful or unfinished old works off the shelf and revamping them. Almost anything in the studio is fair game for a price tag.

All of this reminds me of a hilarious Erma Bombeck book I read and reread in high school. In the book, Erma talks about she was "above" holding a yard sale, scoffing at her neighbors for being so undignified as to display their discards on their front lawns. But then she heard about how much money they were making, and all those high-brow airs went out the window.

She priced and set out a bunch of items she no longer wanted on her driveway one Saturday morning, and soon had an enthusiastic crowd of customers buying up whatever she put out there.

All was going well until she saw the buyers leaving once all the items were sold, and she realized she COULDN'T LET THEM LEAVE! So she started grabbing every object in her house, even things she wanted and needed, and slapping price-tags on them. She even priced a rock in her front yard, which someone bought as a doorstop. The final scene of this exaggerated (but I'm sure based at least somewhat on fact) story shows Erma standing at the doorway of her now completely empty house after the final customer has carted away her last scrap of furniture, with a satisfied smile on her face.

Hopefully I haven't gotten THIS out of hand, but I can't seem to stop from looking severely at every canvas in my studio and considering putting it up for sale!

Here's all the info on the 2009 New Bedford Open Studios, set for Saturday, October 3 from 10 to 5, and Sunday, October 4 from 11 to 5. I will be in the mill building at 21 Cove Street (probably, like Erma, applying price-tags to my shoes, the cup holder in my car, etc.).

A difference in perception

Back in January, I was in a group show called "Opening Lines," in which purposeful use of line was the theme. We artists were scheduled to give a talk to the gallery guests, explaining our individual artistic approaches to line. I knew in advance exactly what I would say: that I am chiefly inspired by the lines I observe in Nature -- branches, vines, roots, ripples on water, etc.

The first artist to speak was a wonderful sculptor whose "lines" were strips of wood that twisted and configured in unexpected ways. As he discussed his interests to the audience, I was shocked to hear these words falling from his lips: "After all, there ARE no lines in Nature," as if it was an absolute fact that every child knows.

Uh-oh! So much for my brilliant premise! I was to speak next, so I identified my ideas honestly, anyway, hoping no one would notice that I had just outright contradicted this fellow. But beyond the talk, I just couldn't understand HOW someone, especially an artist who was clearly as sensitive and observant as this sculptor, could say there are no lines in Nature.

Later, after the talk was over, I realized what was going on. It was a difference of perception and of vocabulary.

One day I was looking at a complex grouping of bare tree branches, and I thought, "OK, those are LINES, don't tell me they aren't LINES!"

And then I realized that a sculptor wouldn't see the branches as lines; s/he would see them as slender rounded three-dimensional forms. But with my particular preferences, background and natural inclinations, I see everything as a series of flat patterns.

I think he might have meant there are no CONTOUR lines in Nature, which of course is true. Honestly, I felt relieved to have that figured out!

New small works

Here are some new small works I've just made, with an eye toward the New Bedford Open Studios, which I'm participating in as a guest artist early next month. These little guys are eight inches square, acrylic on paper mounted on canvas.

Contemporaries: 11 Abstract Painters

Artist Rebecca Crowell created this presentation of contemporary abstract painters to show to her students at a workshop she taught over the summer, and I was honored that she included my work.

Enjoy the show!

All over the place

I'm excited about a two-person show I have coming up in the spring. My friend, the wonderful artist Jeanne Williamson, and I have a big space (the gallery is in a former textile mill) in which to show our work.

I can't help looking ahead and wondering what I will put in this show. But the topic of cohesion is bothering me -- not only in relation to this particular exhibit, but in the studio in general. I just CAN'T seem to settle on a particular direction! I look at other artists, and they seem to have such a clear vision, and I feel like I'm all over the place.

To try and help myself figure out which way to go, I assembled my absolute favorite paintings from the last year (see below). And they are ALL OVER THE PLACE! Hopefully, the right way to go will appear, but until then, I'm just going to have to keep making what I feel like making on a daily basis, and series theory be damned.