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Archive for December, 2008

A Time for Giving

Where there is charity and wisdom, there is neither fear nor ignorance

                                                                        – St. Francis of Assisi

Rockwell Stetson 2002

On this last Sunday before Christmas, I’d like to make one more appeal to everyone out there to extend a little charity to those who need a little help.  Give what you can, be it cash or food or a bit of your time.  Believe me, it is needed because until there is universal fairness and justice in this world, there will always be the need  for others to help.

I’m showing a Stetson I painted for a museum fundraiser several years ago, not because this was a supreme act of charity, because it certainly was not, but to illustrate the point that there are ways one can help even if they can’t afford to do so monetarily.  

Just try to give a bit. You’ll feel better for it.

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george-baileyIt’s that time of the year  when you hunker down on a cold, snowy night and watch a holiday classic.  One of the most beloved is It’s a Wonderful Life from director Frank Capra.  It has long been one of my favorites and it would be easy to go on and on about its message and how the final scene with the redemption of George Bailey makes me tear up just thinking about it.

But yesterday David Terrenoire  wrote in his great blog, A Dark Planet, about how he secretly preferred Potterville, George Bailey’s bizarro world version of his hometown, to the original Bedford Falls.  Potterville was a rockin’ town.  Strip clubs.  Hot music.  Bedford Falls was, by contrast, a real snore.

George Bailey Close-upHe cited an article by Wendell  Jamieson in the NY Times that made his case for the same thought.  Jamieson even goes so far as to state that George Bailey would be facing prison time for the loss of the 8000 dollars, regardless of restitution.  

Just before I had read these two articles I had come across a video entitled Bad Bailey.  It’s put together as a movie trailer and using eerie music and a drastic realignment of the movie’s actual scenes make for pretty disturbing viewing, especially for lovers of the movie.  It made me realize how much darkness there was in the film which, I think, probably made it so powerful.  Just shows what a little editing can achieve…

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Red FluteThis is an older painting from the mid 90’s that I call Red Flute.  It was one of the last Exiles pieces and one that always pleases me very much when I come across it in my files.  I wonder, when I look at a piece such as this, how the person who has this painting in their home or office views it.  Do they stop and look at it at all or has it melded with all the other artifacts in their life, a background to their existence?  Have they created their own myth of  the red flute and its meaning?

I often wonder what part, if any, the paintings play in the lives of those who acquire them.  I hear stories such as the one from Kada Gallery owner Kathy DeAngelo who told me about her son who lives in California and has a small piece of mine.  When he and his mate leave home for any period of time they take the piece with them for fear it might be stolen.

A young lady several years ago told me that she owned a painting of mine that traveled with her and while she had been living in Brazil she had specifically told the lady who cleaned her apartment to never touch the piece.  She said the housekeeper would veer around the part of the wall where the painting hung.

I am fortunate to hear such stories and it’s gratifying to know that your work can live on as a part of other people’s lives.  It’s one of those motivators on those days when the whole act of painting seems foreign and very abstract, when you stop in mid-stroke wondering, “Why am I doing this?” 

And I’ve had a few of those…

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Faust's GuitarWell, I’m on the road today, heading out to Erie, to see my good friends at the Kada Gallery and to deliver several commission pieces.  It’s always good to hit the road once in a while and clear away the studio cobwebs.  I thought I’d share a little Miserlou from surf guitar god Dick Dale.  Most probably know this piece from Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction and, while I think his use of music in that film was masterful, there’s something kind of cool in this clip by itself.  Maybe it’s the blonde twisting away in front of them.  Maybe it’s the side to side sway of the Del-Tones, all looking like they just came from a Chamber of Commerce mixer.  I think my dad may have bought insurance from the drummer and I’m pretty sure the bass player is Al Franken.  Maybe it’s just the alliterative power and the dark contrast of Dick Dale himself, picking away at that mesmerizing Middle Eastern melody.  Whatever, give it a look and listen…

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Salvador DaliAt the opening for my show at the Haen Gallery in Asheville, a young woman approached me, telling me first that  she had a piece of mine and she loved the work.  We talked for a bit then she came out with the inevitable.

“You’re not what I had expected.  I thought you might be wearing a beret or a cape or something like that.”

I get that a lot.

People expect something much different than I appear to be.  More flamboyant, I guess.  Maybe more boorish.  Maybe like this guy, Salvador Dali, who exemplified that stereotype of the crazy artist.  But they’re faced with me-  a thick-waisted, middle-aged guy with a sloppy gray beard.  I used to kid with the folks at the Principle Gallery that I would show up at a show one day in a Dali-like manner, swooping in to hold court in my flowing black cape, waving my arms about in dramatic flourishes.  Maybe wearing a monocle?  I sometimes wonder if people would look at my work differently if I donned a cape and had a long waxed mustache.  Would they find different attributes in the paintings?  Would they find a different meaning in each piece?

I don’t know.  I hope not.  But I do know there is an illusion behind each person’s impression of a piece of art, that it is a delicate web that supports how they value a piece and that can be affected by my words or actions or even appearance.  That is one of the reasons I’m a little reticent to do this blog.  I could write something off the cuff, something that I might soon realize was a product of flawed logic, and  quickly destroy someone’s whole interpretation of my work.  

PopeyePerhaps that is not giving the work enough credit for its own strength and life.  Perhaps this is the flawed logic I mentioned.  Whatever the case, it’s something I bear in mind.  But for the time being, I will keep the cape in storage  and stick with the credo of my childhood hero, Popeye: “I yam what I yam.”

And that’s all that I am…

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Kandinsky Was Here

Kandinsky- Black Spot I

 

In the final analysis, every serious work is tranquil….Every serious work resembles in poise the quiet phrase, ” I am here.”  Like or dislike for the work evaporates; but the sound of that phrase is eternal.

         – Wassily Kandinsky

 

The above quote is from Wassily Kandinsky and concisely captures what might be the primary motive for my work.  I think, for me, it was a matter of finding that thing, that outlet that gave me voice, that allowed me to honestly feel as though I had a place in this world.  That I had worth.  That I had thoughts deserving to be heard.  That I was, indeed, here.

That need to validate existence is still the primary driver behind my work.  It is that search for adequacy that gives my work its expression and differentiates it from others.  I’ve never said this before but I think that is what many people who respond to my work see in the paintings- their own need to be heard.  They see themselves as part of the work and they are saying, “I am here.”

Hmmm….

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Conviction

With All ConvictionMore advice for young painters:

Be bold.  Have conviction.

I have taken one art class in my life, a basic drawing course at a time when I thought I wanted to be an architect and was trying to figure out how to put together a portfolio to show for admission.  The class was a disaster.  It was an evening course and the instructor did not want to be there, often ending class early so he could hit his favorite watering hole.  He barely instructed, barely mumbled anything worth hearing.  I was really put off by the whole thing and it was 14 or 15 years before I really came back to art and stuck with it.

But there is one moment of redemption from that class.  It was a bit of advice he offered.  

Use bold lines.  He wanted to see confidence in the lines, even if they weren’t absolutely perfect

To this day, that advice rings in my head.  When I look at other artists’ work that is the first thing I notice.  How much did this person care about this piece and what they were trying to say with it?  I would rather see something done by a lesser talent with great conviction in what they’re trying to express than a more talented individual trying to convey something in which they have no interest.

To put it musically, I’d rather see a garage band thrash out three chords and mean it.  

So however you choose to express yourself, have conviction.  Mean it.

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Edison

 

Let Us Now Praise...

 

Opportunity is missed by most people

because it is dressed in overalls

and looks like work.

      – Thomas Edison

 

 

The painting to the right is from a very early series that I painted in 1995, Exiles.  It was the group of work that I showed as the basis for my first solo exhibition and remains very close to my heart.  I will write more about this series in the future but for now,  enjoy your Sunday.

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I Can Fly…

It’s Saturday and I need a break.  Came across this while looking for something on this surfboard that Laird Hamilton, the amazing surf king, developed where the surf board is mounted to a hydrofoil that lifts the board a couple of feet above the water.  Looks amazing.  Anyway, it turns out that his design is based on this thing called the Air Chair.  I can’t even imagine the thrill of experiencing what the guy in this video is doing.  It’s about 9 degrees here so this looks pretty good…

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The FearA few days back I talked briefly about a series of pieces from 2006 called Outlaws, small and dark figurative paintings of individuals sometimes looking out windows, sometimes holding handguns.  They were a departure and some followers of my work were a bit put off.  Some were fearful of the figures, seeing them as menacing.  Most saw the fear in these characters, their past haunting them.

There was an observation I made concerning people’s reactions.  Those who were disturbed by the images saw the central figure as an intruder peering in through the window.  Those who were more empathetic with these figures saw them looking out the window.  They saw that these characters were the fearful ones.

These pieces were inspired by some silent films I was watching at the time.  These films from around 1918-1927 were made in the aftermath of the first World War, a time when expressionism emerged.  Many of these films were dark and gritty, filled with raw emotion and violence.  When two figures fought, it was not the clean, one-punch knockouts of later films.  They grappled, clawing at one another in a horrible realism.  One that stands out is  Sunrise  from the great F.W. Murnau, probably best known for his vampire classic,  Nosferatu.  It is the story of a married farmer seduced by a city woman who conspires to kill his wife and go to the city.  It’s a great story that is dark and full of wonderful imagery.  There is a train ride into the city that is a great piece of film.  Though most people think that Wings won the first Oscar for best picure, Sunrise won the award that year as Most Unique and Artistic Production, a short lived award that basically  split the Best Movie award into two parts.  It was great then and is still quite moving.Confession

Also, around that time I saw a group of Goya’s small pieces at the Frick in NYC.  They were done by covering  ivory palates with carbon and dripping water on to the surface then manipulating the puddle until an image emerges.  I was taken by them, mainly because I fully understood the technique.  It was how I had taught myself to paint.  I saw it as an opportunity to express the faces and figures that have inhabited my mind for decades.

I only do a few of these a year now and the handful I have in the studio are what I consider personal treasures that still provoke thought from me, time and time again.Night and the City

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