acrylic on panel 36" x 36"
Sunday, December 28, 2008
acrylic on panel 36" x 36"
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Unlike most dedicated artists, I didn't go to art school right away, I found a home in industry. As luck would have it, the company that hired me devoted a certain portion of production to fabricating and/or finishing art work for individuals. Having come from a family of artists and craftsmen, I guess I was genetically predisposed to work in the section of the company which handled artists and their production problems. Needless to say, this industry experience continued my love for art and gave me much of the knowledge I use in my own art today.
After fine art production, I matriculated to the film industry and started a business building props, sets, and special effects. While I was never a film buff, this industry allowed me to experiment with all sorts materials and processes and usually on a grand scale. I would say that my studio is definitely an extension of my early training in industry. My personal pleasure in art comes from the process of construction as much as the finished image, I've designed my studio accordingly.
The work is part of a new series on architecture for 2009. This is a diptych as yet untitled. 4" X 17" X 3" (see detail below). Wood, lead, beeswax and cadmium yellow pigment. The glow between the elements is a natural color flux that happens when the pieces are in close proximity, I want to explore this effect more. The detail shot shows the placement of the cad yellow encaustic paint within the elements.
and work in progress. The array changes frequently.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I know pretty much nothing about Kirby Grimes beyond what he writes here. I really like this painting. Makes me wonder what his architectural work is like...
Thanks, Kirby. I like your colors, too!
�architecture is my 'work'
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I was intrigued by your new blog post, and although I'm not an artist in the more traditional sense, I thought I'd like to contribute something in response. Here's a photo of my workspace -- an alcove inside my studio apartment in San Francisco. Kinda messy: I always seem to have multiple projects going, and I tend to let papers pile up until I get into a recycling mood. But I like having all of my computer tools, research books and finished pieces within handy reach; it feels cozy. The art piece is a logo of sorts for my new Sina blog, focusing on Asian culture and supporting my Chinese language studies. (Sina is one of the largest China entertainment and social web site portals.)
Monday, December 15, 2008
Update: check out this video of Donna
interpreting a commissioned work for her client.
Friday, December 5, 2008
My paintings are begun with the intention that they will be soundly connected to a specific location and time. However, as the images progress from notebook jottings of experience, environment and memory, to more complete pieces, their meanings begin a steady shift from specific reactions to broad allusions. The finished works signify the faulty concepts of security, place and distance and give form to the rituals and obsessions that sprout from these notions. Paul Behnke
When You Were Young consists of a group of four paintings. My underwater series captures random specific moments of figures in a pool environment to relate universal themes. Using vibrant color and focused, unexpected compositions, I aim to reveal the inner essence with the purpose of expressing the universal unconscious.
I choose random images that create the feeling of being right there in the moment, not necessarily premeditated or manipulated. This image or concept reveals itself in a more arbitrary way to make a compelling, more abstract composition. When You Were Young uses a polytych configuration to elaborate on this randomness. It takes everyday moments in the pool in a way that eludes to our universal life experiences: obviously joy and fun but also buoyancy and resilience in the face of hardships in life. Claudia Waters
Thursday, December 4, 2008
I thought it might be appropriate to start with Boston-area artist Deborah Barlow's thoughts on sharing her studio with visitors. Deborah put forth her response to my invitation to participate in the ISBP as a comment to the original post. I've included this comment because when I conceived of the idea for the ISBP, it didn't occur to me that there would be folks who wouldn't want studio visitors. I interpreted Agnes Martin's quote, "Never let anyone into your studio" as merely a quirky quote from the famously paradoxical artist. I appreciate Deborah's thoughts so I've included them here:
On one hand I have an artist's curiosity about how these issues are felt and dealt with by other artists. A studio is after all a fascinating place and so revelatory. And there is a little bit of voyeurism in me that is operational as well. Who can resist looking behind that curtain into the kitchen?
But at the same time I feel an intense need to protect the rag and bone shop of my own creative life. I gave up doing the popular open studio thing years ago because I feel so strongly about choosing who comes in to my space, and when. It's almost like some energy in my space is running around butt naked, and asking it to cover up and put on clothes is really, really offensive.
And yet I can imagine my attitude changing. It doesn't feel like a truism for my creative life, just a proclivity that is in full swing right now. It could change next year. Who knows?
Your challenge is an interesting one. Given my current subterranean, sub rosa mind set, I'm probably not a good candidate to participate. But I am curious about the response it engenders.
Thank you for this thoughtful and provocative posting."
Lou Storey is a New Jersey artist who is also a social worker. Lou currently works with people with HIV/AIDS. I met Lou last year when he took on the herculean task of curating and organizing an exhibit of art by social workers for an annual social work conference. The exhibit was a very popular feature of the conference, which draws several thousand social workers over a weekend in Atlantic City. Here's what Lou has to say about his studio:
"I’ve had plenty of studios (30+ years of them) and this one, built in the unfinished basement of my new home, is a keeper. I never intended to paint the floor, but the guy that helped me with the lighting insisted on the walls, ceiling and floor being white, which I hated. I need to see colors. I tried the white room for about two days (or was it two hours?) and went stark raving mad. I had some left over cans of paint from painting the walls upstairs, so I just went at the floor and a few hours later I felt the studio become livable.
Regarding letting people into my studio, I now do it carefully. Years ago a critic came to my studio (I was thrilled) and I am sure she said lots of nice things and helpful things, but all I can remember is a strange statement she made: “My, you have an unusual relationship with yellow!” For years after that when I would pick up the tube of yellow I would hesitate. But that was years ago, and it is no longer a problem, although when I pick up a tube of yellow now I am apt to say, “Well, hello there yellow, you’re looking scrumptious today!”
28 x 36
Acrylic, wood, cast plastic shapes
Thanks to both Lou and Deborah. Check back in the next few days for the next installment of the ISBP. There is no deadline for this project. I'll continue to post contributions as they come in....pass it on!