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Archive for November, 2010

Today is the 35th anniversary of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, the huge freighter that went down in a storm on Lake Superior in 1975, taking all 29 crew members with it to the bottom.  It’s a tragedy that would’ve faded into obscurity except for Gordon Lightfoot’s hit song that came out in 1976, forever searing the name Edmund Fitzgerald in our collective memory.  Most of us can’t think of the name of another freighter wreck  or freighter, for that matter.  It even turns up on an episode of Seinfeld.

The song always strikes a chord with me and brings back memories of going up to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula in the early 70’s where my sister’s husband was stationed at  Kincheloe Air Force Base, which closed its gates in 1977.   We visited the locks at Sault Saint Marie where the great freighters passed between Lake Superior and Lake Huron, and spent some time looking down on the huge bare decks of the ships as they slowly passed.  For all I know, the Edmund Fitzgerald may have been one of them.

I mention this today for no reason other than the memory of those big boats back then and the song that memorialized it and its 29 crewmen as they went down in the big lake they call Gitche Gumee

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Collectors

I pulled up this early study today, a smallish piece on paper from 1994 that was one of my first efforts in the technique that I developed for myself from which all my subsequent work derived in some way.  I can still remember the excitement of discovery that was in every piece at that point, how each brushload of paint seemed filled with the possibility of  showing me something I hadn’t seen before.  It was all I needed then– me and the paint and a place to lay it down.  My own eyes were enough.

There was a comment yesterday that inquired as to my use of the word collector in describing the attendees of my shows and buyers of my work.  I’ve been thinking about the importance of  these people for some time and this comment brought back the debate I have internally in describing them.  Customers and clients seem too cold and businesslike as words for how I view them.  As does buyers.

I’ve always felt funny using the word fans to describe  my collectors.  I don’t exactly know why but there’s something a little too egotistical, too self-aggrandizing,  in  saying my fans

Followers is close to being okay but there is an element of the cultish in it that makes me nervous.  Besides, there are plenty of collectors who have bought several apintings of mine without following the progress of the work over the years, people who happen to simply like the work and come back again to add to their collection.

So, I’m left with the word collector.  I like the sound of it and have earmarked as an important word to myself ever since I realized that there were people who might someday collect my work, which was a short time after I began working on pieces like the small study at the top of the page.  The word has become more important to me over the years.   There is the obvious reason, in that collectors provide the income that sustains me.  But collectors have provided me with more than mere money.

There have been times, over the years, when that initial excitement as I described above had faded and the process itself was not motivation enough to make me want to spend my days alone in my studio.  Though I think I am well suited to isolation, there are times when it is daunting.  But it has been during these times when the remoteness has been overbearing that the thought of my collectors, of people who take an active interest in my work, who give it thought and time in which to flourish, have pulled me through.  Given my work a purpose.  Knowing that there were collectors out there willing to view the work I made in the solitude of my studio made the isolation fade away, as though there were hundreds of eyes looking over my shoulder as I worked.  It’s hard to describe the gratitude I feel for this presence that they give me in the studio, not to mention the motivation they provide.  I find myself always wanting to push for something more, something new to pass along to these collectors, if only as a small repayment for what they have provided me.  I feel that they have placed a trust of some sort in my work and it’s imperative that I not betray that trust by giving less than my full effort.

So, if  there’s a better word, please tell me.  But it will be hard to push out the meaning and importance of the word as I perceive it for those who I refer to as my collectors.

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After the Show

Well, I attended the opening for my show at the Kada Gallery on Saturday evening and came away with a great sense of satisfaction in my judgement of the work there.  It was a great opening that that was similar in many ways to a lot of my openings- a nice sized crowd with most of the attention diirected at the work on the wall. 

 I’ve been to many openings where there are big crowds and a lot of hubbub but when you look around, there are very few people spending much time examining the work.  These are primarily social events and the attendees are primarily faced inward, speaking to one another.  I’ve noticed that my shows often have more people facing out toward the walls, spending less time gabbing and giving most of their attention to the paintings. 

This gives the show a quiet atmosphere which used to unnerve me a bit because I was mistaking noise and conversation for excitement with the work.  Over the years I have found this to be often the reverse.  A quiet crowd ususally means they are really looking and interacting with the walls which was the case Saturday.  The number of sales which was considerable,  was also a great indicator of the interest of the attendees.

While the sales are great, they are secondary to the conversations I get to have with my collectors.  I’ve said it here before that I believe I have the best collectors anywhere.  They are really interested in the motivations behind the paintings, intent on finding as much info as they can about the pieces that draw their attention.  They let me know how the work affects them and what they see in it.  It is very gratifying and a validation of all the time and effort spent in the studio.  This validation is very energizing, making me want to be immediately back in the studio and setting my mind spinning with new ideas.

Many thanks to Kathy and Joe D’Angelo, owners of the gallery, for their immense efforts in making this a successful show and for their constant encouragement.  I have shown with them for over 14 years now and hold them in my highest esteem.  And many, many thanks to everyone who showed up on a busy Saturday night to view the show.  I enjoyed speaking with each and every one of you and carry many our conversations with me.

So today I am back in the studio, very pleased with this show and eager to have paint on my hands again.  Time to get back to work.

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Well, tonight is the opening at the Kada Gallery, beginning at 6 PM.  I head out later this morning, getting into Erie a few hours before the show.  I usually stop in at the gallery and preview the show, getting a sense of how the work is laid out.  It makes maneuvering the space easier when I’m asked about specific pieces later.  Then I normally go to my hotel for a while to relax a bit until showtime.

Simple.

So my post today is short as I get ready to hit the road.  I thought I ‘d leave you with a bit of upbeat music from the Sparkletones, a late 50’s rock n’ roll band who achieved mild fame with band members who were all under 18 years old.  Their success was shortlived and had faded before I knew of them but they had a small rebirth in the early 1980’s with the release of a compilation that brought them to my attention with their trademark song, Black Slacks.

Light fare, yes.  But loads of energy and lots of fun.  I hope this keeps me humming until Lake Erie appears, looming high on the horizon.

Enjoy!

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Well, it’s the day before my opening tomorrow night at the Kada Gallery in Erie.  This time before the show is one that I’ve written about a number of times in this blog.  All the work is done, everything delivered and hung in the gallery and I’m left to sit and wait until I go and stand before my work.

As always, it’s a time for anxiety even though it’s much less than in earlier shows.  This something like my 29th solo exhibit and I suppose that  this experience teaches that things seldom reach the lower depths of our fears or the highest peaks of our hopes.  That’s sort of the mindset that I take in modulating my expectations for a show.

I really like this group of work.  I guess that is not a startling statement.  What kind of a moron would come out and publicly trash their own work the day before a show?  But I really do like this collection and for some time  have been eagerly waiting to see this group hanging together.  I’ve had them assembled together in the studio but it’s different than seeing them on the wall with space between to reset the eye as you look.  On the wall, they have a chnace to fully express themselves.

So today I will putter around the studio and get ready to get back to work in earnest after this opening.  I have commissions to finish in the next week that I want to get out of the way so that I can jump into some new things with both feet.  I will try to think about those things today so that I don’t dwell on my anxieties or hopes for this show.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

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The painting a the top is from this show, a small (4″ by 6.5″) piece on paper that is titled All Is Said… 

I’ll say no more.

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There is an opening Saturday night from 6-9 PM at the Kada Gallery in Erie, PA.    It is for start of my new show which is currently hanging there.  Below is the statement that accompanies that show:

 

Toward Possibility

Kada Gallery, November 2010

 

For this show, I decided to use the title of the painting above, Toward Possibility, to act also as the title for the exhibit. I felt that the tenor and tone of this painting very much represented what I was trying to get across with much of this show, that being a sense of self-revelation and self-acceptance we sometimes find on our journey through this life.

The possibility mentioned in the title is the pure possibility offered in our simple existence and our imagination, the chance to evolve and grow individually and as a people. The possibility of moving beyond the obstacles put before us by our own shortcomings and prejudices to find a place where we can fully express our better selves.

The possibility to simply be better.

That’s not an easy task to accomplish or even attempt in this world. Perhaps that is why my paintings often deal with a landscape that is not solely of this world. One can step back and analyze them with a cool eye and say that this or that element in the painting doesn’t or couldn’t exist in the real world. An orange field or a bright red tree. But my goal and hope is to make them seem possible in the eyes and minds of the viewers, to create a harmony in the colors, textures and forms of the painting that allows them to comfortably assume the reality of the landscape I’m putting before them. To create a world that opens the mind to this and other possibilities.

Just having the knowledge that there is a possibility for a better place and a better self makes the journey that much easier to endure. And that is what I hope my work does in the long run– makes the journey easier.

 

 

 

 

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The Script

 

 

A man is his own easiest dupe, for what he wishes to be true he generally believes to be true.

— Demosthenes

 

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For many years, my dad has said, “We’re the most gullible people on the face of the earth.”   Those words rang in my ears last night as I watched  politician after politician, most of them entrenched in the beauracracy of our government, stand before cameras and say that Washington was broken and they would fix it.   Their words didn’t jibe with their actions of the last two years.  Or ten years. Or twenty or thirty.

They were just words.

But they were words that, to the ear that wanted to hear them, sounded reasonable and true.  But to an ear that was skeptical, an ear that belonged to a person who spent a great part of their earlier life looking for angles and scams, the words were simply part of the script.  A script meant to lead those listening to actions that serve the speaker of the words.

The power of words and the willingness to believe what one wants to hear- the con man’s daily double. 

Now the words, the script,  will begin to change as they have to rationalize their actions in the months ahead that won’t mesh with what they’ve promised in the campaign.  There will be a parsing of words, a play of semantics.  A stall here, a place of blame there.  All classic con moves. 

It’s the same for both sides of the aisle.  There is not a gullibility gap here for either political party.  Just words and empty promises.  And we’re left waiting for that check from that Nigerian princess to come…

 

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The Guardian Seat

This is a small painting that is part of my show, Toward Possibility, which opens at the Kada Gallery this coming Saturday, November 6.   I call this painting The Guardian Seat and it is a small piece  that measures about 6″ by 6″.

It’s a very quiet scene and a simple composition that depends on the spaces between the objects seen here to carry the emotion and feel of the piece.  When I look at this piece I am instantly reminded of a small story relayed to me recently that fits this piece very well.

I was told of a farmer who worked the fields near where the person who was telling the story grew up.  He worked a group of fields that spread for quite a distance and out among them sat a chair where, at the end of many days, he would sit and just take in his domain, his guardianship.  I can clearly imagine that image of a man sitting on a straight-backed chair with plowed fields spreading out from him in all directions as the sun lowers to the distant horizon across them.

Anyway, after many years of doing this the farmer eventually passed away.  However, the chair remains in the fields.  His family maintains the chair as a small memorial to the farmer.  The person who told me the story said they always look for the chair when they go home.

A more lovely and fitting memorial for a man of the soil, I cannot imagine.

I suppose that is where the title for this piece emerged.  This story gives me the feeling of a man who had a sense of guardianship and love for the land he worked, who felt himself as both keeper and part of the earth.  There is a peaceful dignity to the tale that I hope shows in this little painting.

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Well, here we are on a Monday sandwiched between the two scariest days of this year, Halloween and Election Day.  In the run uo to the elections there has been a constant drumbeat  from candidates all uttering the words Tax Cuts as though they were some magical incantation used to bewitch voters.  And maybe they are.  A good portion of the American public pays little attention and responds to catchphrases and sloganeering without questioning the validity of the argument.

On last night’s 60 Minutes there was an interesting segment that featured David Stockman, who was the wunderkind behind the  Reaganomics/ supply side economic policy of the early 1980’s.   I felt a great sense of vindication when I heard him speak about the failings of this policy and how it has led to the great wealth inequality that bedevils our nation.  I knew that when I first heard of the policy 30 years ago when I was nothing more than a high-school graduate working in a factory.  It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see where those policies would eventually take us.

He was on the show primarily to say that this constant mantra of Tax Cuts is killing us as a nation and is not practically sustainable.  He calls for the Bush Tax Cuts to end for all income levels.

The story also concerned itself with the state of Washington and its ballot iniative to establish a state income tax of 5% that would start after $400,000 of income per year.  Washington currently has no state income tax and, like most states, is in a fiscal bind.  This measure’s largest supporter William Gates, Sr., father of Microsoft founder and bazillionaire Bill Gates, who also supports the bill.  The story didn’t mention that besides establishing a state income tax on the wealthiest 3% of Washington  residents, this bill would also lower the property tax statewide by 20%.  This is for everyone, including the wealthiest citizens.

Of course, it showed the typical scare tactics employed by the wealthy when faced with even the most modest of taxes– we’ll leave and take our jobs with us.  They featured a younger entrepreneur who runs an internet company selling novelty items who had already moved his business from Oregon to Washington to avoid state income taxes in Oregon.  He claimed this would make him pack up and take his prosperous firm elsewhere.  According to the story, under the new tax in Washington, it would cost this guy $50,000 a year in state taxes.  I know, that sounds like a huge number.  But using simple arithmetic, this means he is making a net income, after all expenses and deductions, of $10 million.  Actually, 10.4 million– the first 400,000 is not taxed. 

This man claims that this 50K would be enough to make him pack up and relocate his entire operation, which must be substantial in order for a guy to turn a 10M profit selling crap novelties online.  He also said that this 50K would prevent him from hiring any new employees.  The typical clarion call of business owners faced with taxes of any sort.  No, actually it is a threat and a ludicrous one, at that, made by greedy, greedy people.  I understand him wanting  to not pay more taxes but when they make these threats about taking their ball and going home – well, to some home somewhere in one of the 6 or 7 states that don’t have state income tax– well, it just irks me that they are so willing to play that fear card on the public.  This guy was a prime example of why Reaganomics/ supply side economics were doomed to failure: they could only succeed dependent upon the assumption that these folks were not filled with greed. 

Actually, Stockman, who was one of the main salesmen for these policies, admitted that  the trickle down effect was concocted only  to sell tax cuts for the rich to the middle and lower classes.

So, when you hear the nattering chant of Tax Cuts! without any reason answer as to how they can be paid for, recognize that you are being pandered to.  Recognize that you are being assumed to have a lack of intelligence and a lack of attention.  And question what other things they may be trying to pull over on you.

Think!  Then vote.

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