The Sea Has Veins: The Delaware Series; Janet Filomeno

The Delaware Series no. 3, 2007
acrylic and aluminum paint on canvas, 80" x 68"
photo: Ronald Filomeno, from the artist's studio

Long captivated by fluids and bodies of water, painter Janet Filomeno presents this latest series as an homage to the Delaware River, and by extension the ocean. Living in the area, she engages in daily observation of the river, at different times of day and throughout the seasons. The River Has Veins captures the Delaware's ever-changing disposition--force and drama, quietude and serenity. Her use of mica powder, aluminum paint, and graphite provides subtle reflection of light, and heightens the sense of life, in the water as in the paintings. As artist and writer Gail Gregg states about Filomeno and her work in the essay for the series catalog, "Her courageous paintings, so full of her own energy, require us to contemplate the eternal activity of the rocking, roiling, life-giving, life-claiming sea so critical to human existence."

The exhibit is up at Simon Gallery, 48 Bank Street, Morristown, NJ through May 24, 2008

Fun with graphite

There's something about powdered graphite... These are recent paintings that play with the surface qualities created by working layers of the graphite into oil paint that has some tack. Though hard to capture by photo, some of the color peeks through. What can't be seen because of the straight-on photograph is the 1 3/4" deep cradles that are painted the same color that peeks out from beneath the graphite, lending a slight object-ness to the pieces.

Powdered graphite, though a rather pedestrian substance that we use daily in pencils, and one that is used for its lubricating properties in manufacturing, somehow retains some mystery as a material.

Many artists have used graphite to wonderful effect--following are a few examples:

David Schutter's graphite on vellum

Susan York's incredible sculpture and installations

Mark Sheinkman's smoky linear abstractions

Graphite with Red
Pam Farrell 2008
18" x 18" graphite and oil on panel

Graphite with Green
Pam Farrell 2008
18" x 18" graphite and oil on panel

Graphite with Blue
Pam Farrell 2008
18" x 18" graphite and oil on panel

M. Shemchuk Paintings

Meridian 36
46 x 48

About a year ago I attended an opening at OK Harris Gallery to see Joanne Mattera's Silk Road paintings. There were about 5 other artists showing as well, and one, Mike Shemchuk, or Shem, as he welcomes people to call him, had a show of his geometric abstract paintings in one of the front galleries. I was immediately drawn to the paintings, which are made from pigmented gypsum on panel. Color-saturated matte surfaces use line and form to hint at landscape and suggest an observation of immediate environment. Well-worn surfaces create a sense in Shem's paintings of a language informed by time passing, by layers of emotion, and by all that makes up a full life--in other words, a personal history.

Click here to visit Shem's website.

Going DEEP

Untitled 726

The work in Vincent Romaniello's exhibit DEEP poses an interesting juxtaposition of earthy, intimate paintings in a rather rarified space. Up through May 18, 2008 at the Philadelphia Art Alliance satellite gallery space at the Rittenhouse Hotel, the work, which is from Romaniello's new group of paintings, the Furrow series, hangs among polished marble walls and floors in a public space outside the hotel's spa and salon and adjacent to a residential wing.

Using gesso combined with dried pigments, ground charcoal, sand, and other materials, Romaniello uses a hand-made, rake-like tool to draw along the still-wet surface, to create three-dimensional effects, or as he refers to them, furrows.

The most direct reference is of the earth seen while flying over land, capturing visions of fields that have been plowed or worked for planting. Viewing the paintings with their cinder-like texture also brings to mind the idea of the "scorched earth." However universal these concepts might be, and however process-oriented these works might be, the pieces are at the same time imbued with a sense of humanness--the hand is very much present, and Romaniello also makes a much more emotional, personal statement with Father's Garden (below).



One final thought about the concept of furrows that resonates for me is the "furrowed brow" of one deep in thought. While this is likely not among Romaniello's intended references, the more I thought about and looked at the work and the word furrow, the more the idea stayed with me.


Follow this link to view the catalog of the exhibition written by Vittorio Colaizzi. and to find more information on the work.
Follow this link to view Vincent Romaniello's website.

Voices: totally new experience

Today, I experienced something totally new to me: I did a voice-over for an instructional video an artist friend is making. Fortunately, I'm also working as the script editor for the video, and had worked with the text enough to be familiar with it. I'm also quite well acquainted with the subject matter, which I'm not in a position to make public at this point, since we're in the middle of production.

I've long had the common experience of thinking the sound my own voice on tape is weird, on my recorded voice mail message, etc. But this was so different. The sound editor/engineer was a kind, gentle soul who knows what he's doing. He offered clear and helpful feedback and had a marvelous sense of humor.

Miraculously, we needed very few "do-overs". I quickly got used to hearing my voice in the headphone monitors, and was only marginally uncomfortable hearing the playback. I sat in a separate room adjacent to the recording console, and since we were working in a home studio, did not have one of those fancy glassed-in recording booths. I had the script, a light, a microphone with a windscreen, and the sound engineer's voice (rather soothing voice, actually) in my headphones. At the very beginning, I had a little adrenaline rush but with the encouragement and direction of the engineer and the artist, I soon settled in. It was FUN! I would do it again in a minute (and will, actually, as we proceed with the project). It was the kind of work that doesn't feel like work at all.

It was an oddly intimate experience, being directed through headphones by someone I could not see, but whose voice created a warm, safe, environment--kind of. Anything could have been going on in the recording room, away from my sight, and I would not know.

As a therapist in training, I often had my sessions taped--with full permission of the client--so that my supervisor and I could review it. I can think of nothing more nerve-wracking, and yet, it was all so I could learn. In my various professions, I've had to engage in public speaking, presenting papers and workshops and the like. Even with years of experience, it never got easy or comfortable. But here, where I am disconnected from another person or an audience, I was not the least bit self-conscious, and I was very comfortable.

So, this all has me thinking about making art with my voice--sound installation, video, performance, something like that. I've often felt that my development as an artist has been a lot about finding my own voice. And now I feel that I've found it. Literally.

Kicking these ideas around make me think of Bruce Nauman's video installation "Thank you thank you thank you". I'm only sorry I couldn't find a link to the installation.

Hmmm....the possibilities.

Origins at Penn

I’m pleased to announce that I will have two encaustic paintings included in “In the Beginning: Exploring Origins in Contemporary Art”, an exhibit of art work held as part of the 2008 University of Pennsylvania Graduate Humanities Forum, which is centered around the theme of Origins. I’ve included a link to a web page with information on the exhibit. The show runs from February 4-29, 2008, and I am planning to be at the closing reception, to be held on Friday, February 29, from 5-7. http://humanities.sas.upenn.edu/07-08/exhibition.shtml

The Penn Graduate Humanities Forum, unknown to me until recently, but in existence since 2000, offers programming across the humanities. Each year, a different theme is chosen: Travel; Word & Image; Sleep & Dreams; Belief; The Book; Time; Style; and this year's theme, Origins. Here are the paintings and related statement.

Origin: Identity, Trauma, and Memory

Lacuna, from the Latin lacuna: a cavity, a hollow; a pool, empty space, or missing letters or words in a manuscript; a gap in memory.

As a therapist working with women trauma survivors I became intrigued with the idea of “what’s missing” relative to identity formation and memory. Many survivors’ identities were formed around traumatic experiences and the gaps in those memories.

Vague, miasmic clouds of color portent indefinable occurrences. Layers of pigmented wax, once molten, form transparent layers that play against opacity to suggest clarity muddled by uncertainty. Marks beneath layers suggest the unknowable, or that which is only marginally accessible. Blank areas appear vacant—was there something there once, or never anything—or vestiges of the unfathomable?

For most survivors of complex, lifelong trauma, the very origin of their lives began around trauma, neglect, and abuse. Seeking answers and understanding through exploration of who one is and where one came from may mean emergence into pools of shame, pain, confusion. Viewed through the lens of trauma, what is present in a memory can be as painful as imagining what might be obscured or even irretrievable. These paintings seek to honor the struggle with identity, memory and healing.

image left: Lacuna 3 2007 encaustic on panel 24 x 24

image right: Lacuna 7 2007 encaustic on panel 24 x 24

new studio, new work

My big project for the past several months has been building and setting up a studio building on my property. OK, well, I didn't build it--a team of Mennonite carpenters did. It's a 16 x 20' wood frame building with heat, air conditioning, and ventilation--and a whole lot bigger than the nun's cell of a room I was working in. In fact it's practically palatial. I moved in the end of October and have been working in it since.

The paintings here were begun in the old space and completed in the new studio. They are part of a larger grouping of paintings that I think of as the Denouement series. They range from 30 x 30, to 18 x 18 (3, not pictured). Vestige and Harborage are oil/oil stick/graphite on panel. The rest are oil/oil stick/graphite on paper on panel.

This group of paintings represent a departure for me. I've spent the past 4 or so years working in encaustic almost exclusively. The summer heat in the nun's cell (no AC) compounded by intense heat from the wax was simply more than I wanted to subject myself to. A mentor suggested that I experiment with brighter colors and use oil stick on paper. That's how this series began, but the journey took it far from its origin. It was a nice break from wax, and a great chance to return to oil. I'm back to wax for now, but I'm already thinking about my next series in oil.


Harborage 2007 oil on panel 30 x 30"


Vestige 2007 oil on panel 30 x 30"


Moral Ground 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"


Giving Up the Ghost 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"


Limens 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"


There There 2007 oil on panel 24 x 24"