Deceptive Simplicity

The artistic process seems to be mythologized quite a lot into something far greater than it actually is. It is just hard labor.  - Nick Cave talking to NPR

Last night was the first time in my so far brief career as an art student that I was not at all interested in going to class. Indeed, I was beginning to regret signing up for more classes at all. I couldn't explain why, however now I think it was because it had been so long since I had been in class or drawn anything at all that I had forgotten the enjoyment of it.  These last few months in retrospect have been of tremendous transition but I don't think I noticed it while I was in the eye of the storm. If you read my previous posts, you will know that I am now pregnant. Four months along actually. Of course one starts to re-evaluate life and priorities. I want to be a creative person for my child but I also know that once she's born sketching and painting will probably become a thing of the past (for while at least), so perhaps my reluctance was based on the belief that creating art will have to cease once the baby is born and so it would be pointless to keep going to classes.

I did go though and spent an intensely pleasurable two and a half hours drawing a hosta leaf onto a large piece of newsprint. The first few moments we tough, getting starting is always hard for me but once I had plunged in I was completely absorbed. It is fascinating to draw something like a hosta leaf that on first glance seems rather simple. I chose a leaf with some damage so that I had more to draw. Soon I was trying to create a kind of order of chaos. The damage caused by insects was apparently random, but the more I examined and sketched the rust-colored holes, the more I developed links between them in attempt to position them correctly. Soon they resembled to me an archipelago of islands. My teacher commented that I was creating a kind aerial map, funny how the concept of maps came up again.  I am learning slowly about light and shade, the harsh light in the classroom created some sheen on the leaves that I tried to capture.

Chatting to my teacher, he mentioned the beautiful garden books that in the past came from the UK. He told me that they were so popular because the light in Britain is often subdued and cloudy. Because of this, colors appear more intense as opposed to a sunny landscape which tends to bleach out colors. I thought about the balance of light and dark which is fitting for this time of year, as the Autumn Equinox is fast approaching. We need the dark and the light.

I was surprised when working how easy it was to get back into the swing of things, even after a period of doing little to no drawing.  Creativity I believe, is not a miracle, it is a muscle. Perhaps one day I can teach all of this to my child.

The Art of Cornwall

St. Ives is a beautiful bay in Cornwall that I visited on holiday when I was young. I remember the studio of Barbara Hepworth and how it seemed like an enchanted palace - full of mysterious forms with the rustle of palm trees, the cries of sea gulls and sea lapping at the coast in the background. The Tate St. Ives is a spectacular building that was built with wide open spaces that complement the Atlantic perfectly. No wonder so many find inspiration here.

The Deception of Words

Summer is in full swing and so there are fewer community enrichment classes, which leaves me trying to continue my studies in other ways.
One way has been to take another MOOC. A few months back I did an excellent one through CALarts, the one I am taking now is through MOMA. 'Art & Activity: Interactive Strategies for Engaging with Art' is aimed at educators, but there is great deal to learn here about creativity and learning even if one is not an educator.  Many of the activities described are aimed at communication that is non-discursive, that is, without using words to articulate meaning or feeling.

Some of us, myself definitely included, have learned to rely on the word too much. The word is not always our friend. It is words that convince me not to act, that there's no point, that I am being naive in thinking I can produce anything of value. Words can offer encouragement which we rely on and if we hear anything negative we risk stopping.

With this in mind, I choose to act. My aim is to produce a drawing everyday.  Drawing has been my Achille's and I would like it to be something I feel comfortable doing. And I call on educators now. When I child has literacy challenges, that is problems with reading and writing, teachers see this as something serious, for our world is so dependent on these skills.  If a child demonstrates little skill in drawing,  educators often shrug and claim, that they're not very artistic and little is done about it. Imagine if this were not so, imagine if teachers worked as hard to promote art as they do literacy, how it would change the way we work, see art perhaps live our lives.

Thinking in Cicadas

I didn't want to go to class last night, I had been feeling under the weather. But it was the last one and I forced myself along.
After a few minutes of drawing, I felt quite well again.  Below is the result, a cicada from above and beneath on toned paper. When I first started the drawing I gave up as I thought it was too small. As always, my teacher encouraged me to keep going. It is simple advice and it is always correct.

This detailed work is like deep thought. I examined the cicada in every detail from every angle. I noticed the tiny ridges and markings, marveling at the precise detail nature had given the insect despite its diminutive size. It's wings, after years of lifelessness, still maintained a luster and color that would rival a stained glass window.
As my teacher observed, the patterns of its body and head are reminiscent of an Egyptian tomb, the colors reminded me also of those rich hues that Klimt used.  Unfortunately I don't think I did them justice here.

When taking a break, I thought about Frida Kahlo after the accident that was to change her life forever. Art must have been a tremendous release to someone like herself, in pain and confined. I am still amazed that more of us don't do it. There are of course other ways to feel that release and drawing or painting are only two of them. 

My teacher was Peter Loewer.  Illustrator, artist, writer, natural historian, teacher.

The Wisdom of Benabou and Tirole

{Re}Happening 2014

Attending the {Re}Happening was a little like slipping into a dream. Through the darkness people wandered in and out of vision and earshot. Every now and then a familiar face would float into my line of sight, but they didn’t recognize me and I let them pass without approaching them. Walking was hard, the ground uneven in the velvety night. If I am hungry at night I often dream about food, usually cakes or ice-cream. These dreams seem to always involve me not having enough money to buy all the things I want and I wake up ravenous. At the {Re}Happening ice cream and cake was free. If there is a heaven, I want it to be like this. Not only because of the free treats. I cannot think of anything more wonderful than going from place to place to experience art projects that were wild and wonderful, meditative and inquiring. Often flawed, but that is part of it. I cannot do justice to the evening merely through descriptive writing. Experience is everything. I will keep trying.

The Wisdom of Maria Montessori

The Art Veterans

I often arrive early to my art class, this time two of the other students were early as well. One of them I recognized from the collage class that I did in the fall.  We got to talking about the classes here at the college and comparing what we had done etc. it seems there is a core group that do these classes repeatedly. I was surprised: when looking for classes, I always focused on ones I hadn't attended. However, now I realize that may not be necessary.  I could do the same classes many times and always come up with new projects, discoveries etc.

That is the beauty of a thoughtful education. It's not about covering the content, ticking boxes, getting something done. If a class is constructive, then it becomes about what YOU are learning. On many occasion, our teacher has given us a task which we all completed with very different results. That is the point, you are growing as yourself, not as others feel you should. Therefore, why not do the same class again?

There is more and more being written about genius, talent and creativity and the most common thread that runs through all these articles, books, blog posts etc. is that creativity is work. According to Milton Glaser 'Good is the enemy of great.' And how does one become great? Through work, through doing.

Dying Everyday

My question was: Are all paintings redeemable?
I looked at my picture in dismay. I had started with such enthusiasm, making stamps out of push pins and stencils from cardboard. This lesson we were looking at pattern and the slides our teacher showed us motivated me to explore. But the more I worked, the more everything seemed to slip away. The push pin stamp resulted in a stipple effect, far less precise than the shape I thought would come out. Paint seemed streaky and the three sections lacked cohesion. My teacher could see I was not at all impressed and gave me some helpful pointers, which I did incorporate. The result is better, not great.

Despite my love and respect for process and work, sometimes I would like to end up with something pleasing. I assumed this would happen with my abstract class since I have always preferred abstract art to figurative, it hasn't. I mentioned to my teacher that abstract work is deceptively difficult. With traditional techniques, if the apple you are painting, looks like an apple then you have some idea of progress. With abstract work however, there is often no reference, how do you know it's ready? That you're making any kind of progress creatively?

Innovation must be a lonely business. No wonder Van Gogh went mad. Imagine, striking out, doing something new and perhaps you sometimes are excited by it but there must also be times where you really do question whether you are on the right path.

In answer to the question: Are all paintings redeemable, my teacher responded that she thinks they are. She then went on to show me examples of painting she has reworked into bright woven squares. I wondered what the original pieces must've looked liked, a pointless thought. She had made them new and let the old creations die (for nothing that dies completely disappears).

John Updike claimed that everyday our old self is gone with the new day. We die, so how can we be afraid of death?

I don't know how we decide what to keep, what to throw away. I trust that at some point, I will know when to let it die, if need be.

Painting, Decisions and Meaning

According to Jean Piaget: "Intelligence is what you use when you don't know what to do." This quote became my silent mantra for my most recent art class as I battled with Fauvism and struggled with color fields.
After surprising myself with my first paintings I often ask myself now, perhaps it was a fluke.
 Painting is making decisions even if the decision is to keep going with no plan. It's hard and the results sometimes less than satisfying but it doesn't matter. It really doesn't. The process is the point and the process is becoming my addiction. What  joy it is, after years of being the adult educator to learn something new.

Unlike the beginning acrylics course which was more technical, more methodical, this class feels like a tour through modern art. This time we discussed the Impressionists, the Fauvists and Black Mountain College of Arts whose spirit still lives on in Asheville. I learned that the Impressionists used oils. I thought of those garrets in Paris in the summer, hot humid and reeking of linseed oil. The smell must've been intoxicating.
We learn and then we explore those techniques and it feels to me like I am developing connections with these artists. I mean this with great humility. Actually doing what they did brings it alive. To be honest I think EVERYONE who likes art should do a class, even if you don't have the desire to be an artist. I will never look at art the same again. I'll never look at life the same way again.  John Dewey said this: "Whatever path the work of art pursues, it, just because it is a full and intense experience, keeps alive the power to experience the common world in its fullness." (from 'Art and Experience')

I am sharing what I did, not because I think it is any good but to make those of you also struggling feel better. The finished product here seems so insignificant to the experience of creating it.

From Beginning Acylics to Abstract Art

Every now and then in life we experience a moment of utter perfection. The moment the teacher of my new evening art class turned off all the lights, illuminating the new falling snow while we practiced automatic drawing was one of them. This new class which began last week, is about abstract art. It's the same teacher I had before (local artist Ursula Gullow) but the tone is different.

In this first lesson we looked at the idea of automatic drawing. Ursula made an excellent point. When we create art with a clear plan of what we want at the end, the subsequent process becomes a series of tasks, with the creativity happening at the start. Whereas if we create art spontaneously, we become the medium along with the materials we use, the creativity is ongoing.  As someone who has always created with a plan, this has been liberating. That is not to say that it is always easy to work spontaneously, my brain doesn't do this naturally. But I am trying!

As part of the class we created our own automatic drawings in the dark using black lines. I chose to draw continuously from one line without lifting my pen from the surface. It was a good feeling to be with these people I barely knew, in the dark, collectively creating. We used the drawings as the basis for paintings. Many people used different colours and materials. I stuck with monochrome. The piece I did fought me for a while, then somehow it came together.  Below is the result.

What you can't see in the picture is the areas that are raised, peaks of paint. I have decided to call it 'Cartography' because to me it seems like a map, a map of my subconscious perhaps.

Paulo Freire's Wisdom

Study of Glass and Light

It was with great trepidation that I approached the portion of my acrylics class that required us to practice painting still life. Partly because I never cared for representational art nor understood the point of most still life paintings. The other reason was, I thought I would make a horrible mess of it.
At school my drawings and paintings never looked much like the object I was trying to depict, it seems to be me that to the layman, a picture  is 'good' because they can recognize within the work the object that is being represented. While I have never subscribed to this idea myself, there is still the awareness that, if you are trying to master painting, painting from life is an important exercise, even if you don't intend to continue in that vein and branch off into a more abstract or conceptual direction.
Therefore I approached the exercise with an open mind as best I could. It was very difficult, and I was not impressed with the result. But I did learn a huge amount about composition, light and color.  At some point I realized that you have just stop looking at what you are trying to paint and work with the canvas/surface making decisions that will convince the viewer of the object/s although it may not be directly, visually accurate.

That painting I created showed me where I had gone wrong and where to focus in the next class. So I chose in the next class to paint a group of glass jars - in the previous still life there was a glass jar that didn't work and looked more like a tin can.
Here is the result. Not perfect but I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. It was much tougher than I thought it would be.

 

Again, perfect it is not. For example the jar on the far right was poorly done, the size is too squat and the mouth is not well defined, the bottle in the middle is asymmetrical and the base on the far left one is a mess, lacking depth and with too much heavy colour. BUT I do love the lettering on the far right jar and I like the base of the central bottle. Also think the shadowing works ok and the mouth of the jar on the far right isn't bad.  Now I can understand why Giorgio Morandi spent so much time painting vessels...

Adventures in Acrylics

 

I've been taking night classes since November of last year. I started with collage because it was medium I know. To be honest, the clincher was that the teacher is a local artist that I love - Ursula Gullow. Her work is accessible and also compelling. I was really nervous to join a class, it's weird being a student when you have been a teacher for as long as I have!

However, it was a great experience and Ursula is a great teacher. While in that class I started to use paint, specifically acrylics. I don't think I have painted since being at school and through the years I actively avoided paint in favor or fiber arts and sewing. Turns out though, I love paint. So after that class I signed up for a beginner's class in acrylics with Ursula as the teacher. It was a revelation... I started with low expectations of my work but I have been immensely pleased with the results.

The last class was last week and I am now doing an abstract class, again with Ursula Gullow.
For more of my pictures, check out my Tumblr page.