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Archive for the ‘Opinion’ Category

Helen Frankenthaler- Savage Breeze

 

There are no rules. That is how art is born, how breakthroughs happen. Go against the rules or ignore the rules. That is what invention is about.

–Helen Frankenthaler

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I’m using this quote from Helen Frankenthaler, the famed Abstract Expressionist, as a sort of follow-up or addenda to yesterday’s post about change.  I remember reading about Frankenthaler when I was first beginning to really paint with purpose.  In an article that I read but can’t locate now, she spoke of how she came to her trademark stain paintings where very thinned oil paint is applied to unprimed canvas.  She said it was almost by accident that she first experienced the absorbing of the paint by the raw cotton canvas and how that it caused a reaction, a breakthrough, in her thinking about how she wanted to express herself within her work. 

She felt that all artistic breakthroughs were the result of a change in the way one saw and used their materials.  It could entail changing the type of material used or using them in a more unconventional manner, as her above quote stating there are no rules infers.

This immediately clicked with me at the time I read it.  I had been trying to shape my way of thinking to fit the materials I was using at the time.  Unsuccessfully.  What I needed to do was change the materials to fit the way I was thinking.  Allow my thought process more free rein and not cater to the restraints of materials.

That may sound kind of abstract but it allowed me to start working with my paints and grounds in a much different way, forming my own process that worked well for my way of thinking and has become entrenched in my thought process.  Even though it may be outside more traditional forms of using these same materials,this process has over time become as rigid in my use as the techniques used by the most steadfast adherent of the most traditional school of painting.  This is sort of what I was referring to when I mentioned the end of the cycle, as far as art is concerned.  You reach a certain point, a mastery of your materials, where there are few accidents, few surprises in the materials’ reactions and, as a result, fewer surprises in your own reactions. 

For most, this is the goal.  But I want that surprise, that not knowing exactly how the materials will react and that need to solve the problem presented by the need to express with the limitations of the materials used.  So I try to continually tweak, create a little tension in how the materials react to my use of them, to create a sense of surprise.  Breakthrough.

And that’s where I feel I am at the end of the cycle mentioned in yesterday’s post.

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Painting of Old Centerway Bridge by Marty Poole

At yesterday’s memorial service for Tom Buechner, former congressman and head of Corning, Inc Amory Houghton was one of the speakers who stood before the large crowd under the spectacular Tiffany stained-glass windows of  the Christ Episcopal Church in Corning and told stories about the man.  At one point, Houghton said that  while Tom was a brilliant man (he had , after all, been chosen by the Houghtons to start the Corning Museum of Glass in 1950 at the tender age of 23) he sometimes came up with “nutty ideas“.  He then cited the stained glass bridge that I mentioned in yesterday’s post as an example, almost harumphing as he finished as if to say, “How crazy is that?”

Cheri and I exchanged sideways glances and to the crowd’s credit, very few seemed to share the humor Amo seemed to find in it. 
Nutty idea“?
Big? Yes.   Risky?  Sure.  Difficult?  Of course. Expensive?  Positively.  Impractical?  Maybe…
But at the same time, it is an idea that is forward-thinking on a grand scale, filled with the possibility of returns for the community and company that dwarf the initial risk.  Visionary, yes.  Nutty? Hardly.
And therein sits the division between those who see possibility and those who see impossibility.  It’s a very narrow chasm often leaving two people seemingly standing next to one another, close enough to touch.  But between them is a gaping ravine deep enough to deter crossing.  The believer in possibility stands on one side and tries to convince the denier of possibility that all he must do is to dare to lift his foot and simply step across to the other side.  Though not so far away, the view is so much different from this side! 
Maybe this difference of views is the same that separates us all.  Deep chasms we dare not cross, formed by our fears and the thoughts of what can’t be done rather than what can.  I read an interesting editorial the other day where the writer talked about this moment in time in our country versus the time after World War II.  At that time, our national debt was 120% of our GDP as opposed to the nearly 90% now.  The highest income tax rates hovered at 90%, shockingly higher than today.  Unemployment was soaring as the masses of troops returned to the civilian ranks.  We were staggering and teetering after a decade of the Great Depression and a costly war.  Yet, as the writer of the editorial  pointed out,  there was a positivism then that is virtually absent now.  We had persevered the worst in the Depression and came out victorious in the War and we had come out the other side with an atitude that we could get anything done if we set our will to it.  We embarked on two huge and costly efforts despite staggering costs-  the Marshall Plan to rebuild war-ravaged Europe and the GI Bill that rewarded our troops for their selfless sacrifice with  a chance at a higher education and low-cost housing, one of the largest entitlement programs in our history and one that set the table for the growth of the middle class in the 1950’s.
Today, that positivism is nowhere to be found in the general populace.  Gone is the roll-up-your-sleeves attitude.   We have become afraid to move forward, preferring to stand in the present and not step across the chasm of possibility to a future that moves forward.  We have fallen prey to fear and negativity and nothing good, absolutely nothing, can come of this attitude.
So, maybe hearing “nutty idea” spoke to more than a little museum on a little  bridge in a little city in a rural county in upstate New York for me.  Maybe it spoke to the symptoms  and causes of what ails us as a nation– the differing viewpoints of those who look on the same thing and see two vastly different versions.  A chasm between possibility and impossibility.

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I wrote a whole post this morning on the film Gasland, that premiered the other night on HBO and eexplores the adverse effects of natural gas drilling on the communities where it occurs.  But after reading it, I trashed it because I didn’t really know what I wanted to say.

By that I mean I understand the need for exploration of  energy sources.  We’re a growing country and just by the virtue of our continual growth we will consume more and more energy.  When I was a kid the population of the USA was around  185 million people.  Today, it’s 310 million.  More people,  more energy to transport and heat them.  Simple.

And I understand the landowners who lease their land to the gas companies.  Many are going through hard times, especially in the less affluent rural areas where many of these gas explorations are taking place.  I know. I live in such a place, with the controversial Marcellus Shale under my feet.   You see landowners and family farms that are facing more and more financial hardships just to stay afloat suddenly offered a boatload of cash backed by the promise that these companies are pros and nothing can go wrong.  Whay would you do if you had to choose between just scratching and just  maybe getting by or accepting an offer that would set you up financially for several years and perhaps not even have any effect on your property?

And I understand the great income the gas drillers offer for the local businessmen in the areas where they drill.   The motels are full with gas workers, the convernience stores and taverns bustling.  Hell, they even hire a local or two to work for the gas company.  It’s a little economic boom.

But at what cost? 

In a perfect world, nothing would go wrong.  The experts would always know everything and leave nothing to chance.  The contractors and workers would be professional and never cut a corner.  The gas companies would never put anyone in harm’s way for their own profit.  Besides, our regualory agencies oversee everything and protect  our best interests.

I would love to believe all of these things.  But this ain’t no perfect world, brother.  And, as the Deepwater Horizon catastrophe has taught us, the experts don’t always know everything.  People cut corners.  Companies put profit before people, animals and the environment.  And our regulatory agencies have divided allegiances to both us and their pals with the gas companies who they supposedly oversee.

Like I said, I don’t really know what I want to say here.  Perhaps just a cautionary note to those who stand to gain from risking their land.  Things go wrong.  People cheat and steal.  People lie.  And when the gas and the money’s gone, what will be left behind?

Look at both sides of the argument.  See Gasland.  Read the opposing views on the websites that have sprung up in defense of the gas industry.  And keep in mind what is the motivating force behind each.  Who is really looking out for you and who is looking out for their own pocketbooks?

Enough said…

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  Concerning this blog, a gallery owner once said to me, “You sure have a lot of opinions.”  I think they were concerned with the possibility of me  alienating one or more of their clients with my personal opinions.

“Everyone has opinions,” I replied. “They just don’t always express them.”

That short exchange may well be the basis for this painting, Advocate.  A 24″ by 36″ work on canvas, this is a new piece showing at the Facets show at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria, VA, which opens Friday, June 11th

 When I look at this piece I see the red tree as the advocate, standing up for an opinion that may represent that of the red roofed houses.  It’s as though there is an interchange happening between the tree and the light breaking through the fingers of the sky, the tree arguing for the light to shed aside the darkness and shine on the scattering of homes below.

Actually, while I do have as many opinions as anyone and  sometimes have an inability to keep them to myself when asked, I try to steer away from treading too much in this blog  on subjects that do not pertain to my work in some way.  Unfortunately, my work is a product of my emotions and my emotions are often stirred by things going on in this world.  So occasionally opinion on things that may not seem to have anything directly to do with the making of art creeps in. 

 This always leaves me a little uneasy.  Like the title of my show, I am a prism comprised, as we all are, of many and varied facets.  I show many of these aspects in my work and in this blog and I sometimes fear I am showing too much,  that once the viewer has gained enough familiarity with the work and me,  the mystery of the work will be gone.  So, I try to keep some of these facets out of the light of my visible prism.  Actually, I almost started listing these here as examples, which would kind of defeat the whole purpose of not showing them in the first place.

But the red tree of this painting is not afraid to show themself fully as it is, visible from every aspect.  It is vulnerably in the open yet it appears strong and definite in conviction, willing to face down anything that crosses its path.  It is a fully lit prism.

Maybe this is a case where a painting represents aspiration rather than reality…

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Kathedra

The Latin word for chair is cathedra, coming from the Greek kathedra,which gave us the word cathedral.  Without saying any more, that is the basis for this painting’s title, Kathedra.

This is a painting I finished several weeks ago which has been leaning against the stones of my studio’s  fireplace since then.  It is a 24″ by 24″ canvas and it catches my eye on a regular basis.  Perhaps it is the fragmented look of the sky with what some people call a stained-glass look. 

While I understand people seeing it as looking like stained-glass,  I see the lines in the sky as being fractures or seams in the fabric of time and memory.  It’s a difficult thing to explain, as are many things that live deep within us, things that make up our inherent system of belief and understanding.  Things we instinctively know or believe even though we may not know why or how this  even came to be.  I’m not talking about religious belief so much as I’m talking about how the unseen forces and energies of the natural world really operate around us,  just beyond our perception.   

Maybe it is the physics of belief.

That being said, perhaps that is what this represents for me.  The seat of belief before a mysterious world that we barely know and can’t even begin to understand.  Kathedra

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Back Online

I’ve been offline for the last few days with computer problems which were finally cleared up late yesterday.   I find myself  caught in a love/hate relationship with the computer.  I fully appreciate its incredible utility as a tool and its ability to spread information quickly via the internet.  Or the web. Or interweb or whatever you wish to call it.  That thing that infamous Alaskan Senator Ted Stevens once called a series of tubes.

But the technical aspects still evade me, for the most part.  I try to learn what I can to make my time online easier and less frustrating but I still find my eyes rolling back into my skull when I have to get into the technical jargon.  When I speak with techs and others in the know about computers I feel as though I am trying to maintain conversations in a language that i don’t know or understand.  Complete sentences and phrases fly by and I’m still trying to pick up the one or two words I understand and put them into some kind of context that makes some sort of sense to me. 

I suppose that’s why I’m drawn to the world of art.  Oh, there are technical terms and some love to toss them around to prove their supposed mastery and understanding of the subject.  But for the most part, you can navigate the world of art without being immersed in terminology and such.  Art is totally subjective.  There is no right or wrong.  You like what you like and you feel what you feel.  There is a place in art for all tastes and attitudes.  What an awful thing it would be if someone were able to break down our appreciation of art into a science of exactitude, where you could only understand a piece through the knowledge of arcane phrases and concepts.

Oh, well.  My computer’s up and running once more and that’s okay, I guess.  The couple of days it was down were very productive for my painting and I’m beginning to see my quickly approaching show in Alexandria take shape.  The painting above, a 24″ by 24″ canvas, is a newer piece.  The red chair is very evident in this show.  It’s an icon that has been in my visual vocabulary for many years now and one that still is an enigma at times.  It takes on many different meanings for me that change from piece to piece, never letting me fully know what it means.  Kind of like most people.

Okay, I have much work to do today so I can’t sit here and babble incoherencies.  I’ll be back…

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As I walked in semi-darkness down the driveway this morning, I began to think about what I wanted for my work today.  I do that sometimes.  I don’t know if it’s a matter of starting the new week with a new focus or if there’s a part of me that is still surprised at the fact I paint for a living.  Still needs reassurance that my work has meaning in some small way.

But what I decided I wanted to do with my work at this point is to appeal to a better instinct that I believe is common across all human barriers.  That is to say, create work that has universal themes and creates commonality rather than division.  This world is so so pulled apart by divisions in race, religion and ideology that we seem to lose sight of our commonality.

That’s where art, at it’s best, has a part to play.  It can transcend language and cultural differences, can reveal emotions and feelings that are basal to us all as humans. It is then all inclusive and allows anyone from anywhere to sense something intangible yet recognizable as being part of them. 

Is that too much to ask?  Too lofty a goal?  It may be. And perhaps by even acknowledging it, it becomes unobtainable, lost in efforts that become unnatural and forced.  Perhaps.   But why not aim higher?  Why not aspire to have your work reach it’s highest purpose?

Shouldn’t we hope that for everything we attempt?  For every aspect of our lives?

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Reminder-  Name This Painting!  Contest Continues–

 

Just a reminder that the annual Name This Painting! Contest is still open to entries until May 16th.  It’s a simple contest so if you’d like to win a set of limited edition prints, check out the details by clicking on the painting to the right and start thinking of a fitting title. 

Good luck!

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I wrote the other day about an episode where my work- its format, content and style- had been seemingly appropriated by another artist in a city where my work regularly shows.  It was baffling because I knew and liked this person and had dealt with them in the past.  So I showed his work to a number of people who know my work very well and, to a person, they agreed that it was obvious that this was an attempt at replicating my work in nearly all aspects and that I was going to have to do something to counter this.  As much as I wanted to write it off as mere coincidence,  there were too many factors indicating otherwise for me to simply and philosophically shrug this off.

I contacted him and pointed out my concerns.  I really didn’t know what to expect.  In this era of rude and shameless behavior, I steeled myself for an argument.  But his response was quick and gracious.  He claimed to be ignorant of the similarities which, at first, I thought was a bit disingenuous but began to realize after a bit was truly the case.  This fellow really did seem to have a blind spot in this situation.  He asked his wife and some artist friends if they saw what I was seeing and they did.  Embarrassed, he got back to me quickly and agreed to pull the work from the website and would show the remaining pieces in his studio with “in the style of GC Myers” on the back and price tag of each piece.

That satisfied me and I consider the case closed.

I wished I felt more satisfaction.  I know I was in the right but part of me empathizes with this guy.  He is still struggling to find his own voice for self expression and has many long hours ahead before it will take shape.  Sometimes the prospect of that can be daunting in a world where instant gratification rules.

Perhaps that is why I was so protective of my work in this instant.  I realized, looking at his paintings that so resembled mine, the sheer amount of effort I have expended in the past fifteen years to get my work to the point where it now stands.  It is the result of spending literally tens of thousands of hours alone in my studio, agonizing over every aspect of the work.  I have struggled and sacrificed to make my work my own.  To make it an expression of who and what I am.  To make it my true voice.  It has been a long journey and there were no shortcuts taken.

It took this to make me realize what a precious thing this is to me, indeed.  These paintings of mine are not mere merchandise, products of commerce that can be easily copied like designer jeans or handbags on the street.  They are the products of spirit and thought, things that can’t be priced or simply copied.  But things that I now know must be protected.

I really hope this other person understands the journey he faces and is willing to undergo it.  You can only follow someone else’s path for so long before you must forge your own way.  But if he can stick with it, his efforts will produce something he can call his own and will be rewarded in some way.

I wish him well.

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Fess Parker died last month.  He probably isn’t too well known to the younger generations but for anyone who grew up in the 50’s and 60’s, he was a big deal.  Portraying Davy Crockett in the movies and Daniel Boone on television, Parker was one of the biggest stars for kids of that time.  He became the personification of the mythical American frontiersman, the civilization shunning, wise old man of the mountains who lived off the land and gloried in his personal liberty.

Elbow room! cried Daniel Boone.

Popular myth has long glorified the lives of Boone and Crockett.  In the 1780’s, Boone exploits entered popular culture in a book that was more myth than fact.  It became a huge hit here and abroad, creating a legend that took on a life of its own, even influencing Lord Byron to make mention of Boone’s tales in his Don Juan.  He was portrayed as an Indian-fighting man of action who continually fled the reach of an ever impinging civilization.  A man who lived by his own rules without any concern for government.  Davy Crockett, in popular legend, was seen in much the same terms.  This mythic image of both has found its way into our collective psyche where it still dwells today, influencing our very definition of American liberty and the relationship of the common man to our government.  The Tea Party movement is filled with folks who grew up with these myths and surely believe that they can live a life like Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett, if only they could break the shackles of  government.

Unfortunately, many of the myths surrounding both men are unfounded and their real lives run counter to those who hold up their mythic images as a rallying flag.  Both were men were land-owners and served the government, Boone serving as a legislator and sheriff and Crockett as a congressman.  Both were leading citizens of their communities and basically enacted governance wherever they lived, prospering in civilization.  Boone’s biggest gripe with government came when he lost several land claims in a legal dispute about the same time he lost a government bid to another bidder for a contract to widen the Wilderness Road to aid in the westward expansion of the country.

I don’t really know why I’m mentioning this today.  Maybe it’s frustration at the rhetoric of some of the anti-government groups that have been filling the air recently.  Their usurping of American myth to fit their own selfish aims reminds me of evangelists who pull verses from the scriptures and throw them around out of context to prove their own selfish point.  Maybe that’s what I’m looking for here- context.

And an end to living a life based on unfounded myths such as the rugged individualist.

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Jury Duty

Jury duty begins for me today.  I would like to say I’m excited about exercising my civic duty, about playing a small but vital part in our justice system.

I would really like to say it.

But…

Yeah, I ‘m ashamed to say I am less than thrilled at the prospect.  I always flash back to my first time serving many years ago.  Even though I was really too young and inexperienced to sit in judgement of anyone, it was still painfully obvious how a verdict was often the result of people’s personal preferences and biases as much as it was a result of the evidence.  When seen up close, it seemed too open to manipulation from those with strong personalities and prejudices which made it a less than balanced set of scales for those on trial.  Especially, say for a person of color or someone with a foreign accent.

I would like to say I believe every person chosen will keep an open mind free from personal prejudice and thinking based on stereotypical imagery, that they will base their decisions solely on the merit of the evidence placed before them.  I would like to believe that rational thought would far outweigh the pettiness of the biased mind.

I really would.

But I’ll see today.  Maybe I will be surprised and filled with pride at the efficiency and true justice of our jury system.

Maybe.  The jury’s out on that one.

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