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Why?

Newtown School December 2012I just don’t know.

How do you explain the insanity of what happened in Connecticut this past Friday?   How do you explain the terror of any event that has groups of children being led away with their eyes closed so they don’t have see what has transpired in their once seemingly safe classroom ?  I don’t think you can, although god knows that the airwaves are filled with those who think they can.

And the idea that there is somehow an answer to how future horrors like this can be avoided seem futile at best.  We all know that this will not be the last time such a  scene will occur here.  This is the seventh mass killing in the USA this year, the most in any single year.  By mass, I mean of four or more victims not including the shooter.  Last weekend’s shooting at the mall in Portland, with three deaths, doesn’t even qualify.

How many of us even remember that there was a shooting in Portland last week?  It has become just another bit of disturbing news that we filter out and discard with a quick thought that it happened  somewhere else and  that we ourselves, thankfully,  are safe.  Then we move on to something a bit less troubling.

To our great sorrow and shame, this type of tragedy has become a regular part of our lives, part of who we are.   And that means  that there will be no easy answers, if there are answers at all, because that would mean that something would have to change and change drastically.  And we cannot accept that much change in our lives.  We would rather live with the horror of what we have become than face the alternate challenges of  a new possibility.

Besides, who could we turn to to lead us to these needed changes in our culture?  The dysfunction of our political system, with extreme partisanship tied to self- and special-interests and the demonizing of one’s enemies, is indicative of the problem itself.  There is no one courageous enough to propose any type of solutions that would be large enough  to remotely change the culture that enables such horrors to be tolerated.

And if there were, we would probably have to destroy them.

That’s just who we are now.

So, we will mourn these children and their grieving parents and families. The media will buzz over the shooter and his psychological state for a week or two, all the while giving undue attention to this sick creature.  The politicians will begin to feign interest in taking action while the special interest groups from both sides will spar in public until something shiny and new captures the attention of the public, at which the debate will fade to background noise that we hardly hear at all.  And it will soon be a distant memory.

Then it will happen again.  And again. And again.

As I said, I don’t know anything.  But I do know that this will not be the last time that parents will face this ultimate horror, won’t be the last time we see images like those from Connecticut.  And that makes me want to weep even more.

 

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Just Looking Gallery, SLO - GC Myers Show 2012 aWell, we got home last night after several days on the  west coast for my show this past weekend at the Just Looking Gallery in San Luis Obispo.  And though it was very wet , we had a great time.  We saw a lot of great sights, from  the heights of Yosemite  down to the coastal area around  SLO.  But it was the friendliness and warmth of the people there that made the biggest impression.  We met so many wonderful people.  My biggest complaint is that they were there to hear about my work  so I did more talking  when I would rather be listening, hearing about their lives and stories.

But it was a great trip and we have so many people to thank, from Ralph Gorton and Ken McGavin at the gallery  to the many folks who made it to the show, many traveling from quite a distance.  It was great to get to know Ralph and Ken better and to hear their entertaining stories.  And they do have some great stories.  They made Cheri and me  feel very welcome.  I will relate a few more details in the coming days but for the moment, I am still a little fatigued from the trip and am settling back into the studio routine this morning.

Again, many,many thanks to everyone who crossed our path this past week.  It was a real pleasure.

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This will be my last post for the next week or so as I head off to California for my show, The Waking Moment,  this coming Saturday, December 1, at the Just Looking Gallery in San Luis Obispo.   It’ll be my first glimpse  of seeing my work hanging at the gallery.  It will also be  the first time I will get to meet the collectors there, something I am eager to do.  It’s always interesting to meet people who are drawn to the work, especially those from a distance away.  I like to see how they respond to the work, to see if they see it in the same way as those collectors I have come to know a bit over the years at those galleries that have represented me for many years.

I am sure there is a similarity in the way they see the work.  That only makes sense because of the consistency that I try to provide in the work and my messaging of it.  But I am always looking for a new perspective on it that I may have missed, one that someone from a different geography might provide.  As with everything, we shall see.

If you’re in the SLO area at the end of this week, please stop in at the Just Looking Gallery and say hello.  On Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I will be in the gallery for a period of time outside of  Saturday night’s opening  for those who would like to discuss the work but might not be able to make the opening.  Hope to see you there!

The painting shown here is Moment, an 8″ by 14″ on paper which was the piece selected for the invitation.

 

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I’ve written here a number of times about my affection for  outsider or self-taught artists who pursue a personal vision in their own distinct manner.   They draw, paint, sculpt and carve  trying to express that essential part of themselves that demands to be released on to the world.  Many go on with their work for years and decades before they receive any recognition, if they ever receive any at all.  I can only imagine how many people toiled at their passions for their entire lives without anyone ever taking notice.  But some do eventually find recognition and it’s always gratifying to hear such stories.  One such story is that of Elijah Pierce.

Elijah Pierce was born to an ex-slave on a plantation  in Mississippi in 1894 and moved northward in the 1920’s , settling in Columbus, Ohio.  He took up a career as a barber in Columbus but had been taught chip carving  using a simple pocket knife by an uncle as a boy and it occupied his free time for over 60 years.  He carved figures and ornate reliefs of everyday scenes as well as depictions of biblical stories, popular figures of the day and just about anything that came into his mind, displaying them in a section of his barbershop.  One piece, The Book of Wood , from 1932, was a group of 33 bas-relief panels depicting scenes from the life of Christ that were bound together like a book.

In the 1970’s, Pierce’s work began to attract much deserved attention and the New York Times in 1979 in an article about folk art praised Pierce, saying that among all carvers, “none can equal the power of Pierce’s personal vision.”   That set off a rush among collectors and his fame grew in the folk art community.  He was honored with a National Endowment for the Arts award and the space at his barbershop once displayed a large group of his work was soon empty, the works snapped up by collectors and museums.

Pierce operated the barbershop until 1978 and passed away in 1984 at the age of 92.  He left a wonderful body of expressive work as a legacy, including a large collection at the Columbus Museum of Art,  and is memorialized with a statue (shown at the top of this post) at Columbus State Community College.  He has also been the subject of a biographical play that was performed in  Columbus.  It’s a wonderful thing to see someone maintain their vision for the entirety of their life and to have others recognize the beauty and power within it.  Elijah Pierce’s work was a perfect expression of himself.

Here’s a short film featuring Pierce.

Elijah Pierce from Zach Wolf on Vimeo.

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This is the grand staircase that joins the newer addition that houses the spectacular Thaw Collection of American Indian Art to the original building of the Fenimore Art Museum in lovely Cooperstown .   I am honored to have an exhibit of my work, Internal Landscape: The Paintings of GC Myers,  hanging in this wonderful facility. It has went better than I had hoped thus far.  The response has been extremely positive  according to  the museum staff and  I have been contacted by many people who had not known of my work.  The show continues to hang there until the end of the year, December 31.

A reminder here that next month I will be giving a talk at the museum as part of their Food For Thought lecture series.  The event consists of a luncheon followed by the talk.  There is a fee for this event.  My talk there is on Wednesday, November 7, beginning at 12:30 PM and running until around 2:30.   If you’re interested in finding out a bit more about how the work came about and evolved over the years, this is a good opportunity to do so in a beautiful and comfortable setting.  Hope to see you there!

You can get more info by clicking here or by calling  the museum  at (607) 547-1461.

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After yesterday’s post, one that featured a NASA photo of Rhea, a moon of Saturn, I was asked by Clint from the Principle Gallery if perhaps I might be doing some outer space themed paintings in the future.  I really hadn’t given it much thought , to be honest, but I suddenly remembered a few pieces I had painted many years ago, long before I ever thought of showing my work in public.  They were experiments, the sort of thing I often worked on then when I was working out color and form.  Abstractions, really.  Most were pretty bad.  But there was one that I always really enjoy  when I stumble across it when browsing through a bin of old work.

Shown here at the top, this piece from 1994  has Third Stone From the Sun written on a corner.  It’s a watercolor that was purely an exploration of color and shape.  When I was done it struck me that it had the feel of some sort of galactic apocalypse, as though our Earth had suddenly decided to linejump  Mercury and Venus  to get closer to the Sun and this was the result.

It’s not a great piece but it makes me happy despite the obvious downside to the situation it depicts.  At the time, I remember that it made me consider following this abstracted path but I opted to follow the one that has led me here.  I often wonder what I would be doing at this moment had I chosen that path.  Probably not writing this.  But you can’t linger too long over such questions because you will never know.  The paths through time fade quickly behind us.

Here’s the song that inspired the title, Third Stone From the Sun.  It’s classic Jimi Hendrix in a mellow form.




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I’m knee deep in work at the moment, mired in a really deep groove.  I use the word mired but it’s meant to have a good meaning here.  It’s one  of those grooves that I hope for, where everything seems to click right off the brush and there’s a rush of excitement as one piece nears completion and the next is already beckoning.   The funny thing is that it’s not a manic groove even though I may sound manic in describing it.  It’s calm and cool, a sense of clarity with all the fogs of uncertainty blown away.  It’s a feeling, a rhythm, that I know and lay in wait for, often for long frustrating periods.  But I know that if I struggle forward, it eventually comes.  I don’t think I will ever succeed in describing this groove, this rhythm.  probably because when I’m mired in it I struggle to write about painting, am lax in communicating anything for fear of upsetting this delicate  rhythm.  So I will stop here.

Here’s a song, one of my favorites, Killing the Blues.  Written by Rowland Salley, I first came across this song many years ago when John  Prine did his remarkable cover of it.  Since then I have discovered that it has become a standard of sorts, covered by numbers of musicians.  Last year, I featured a haunting version here from Allison Krauss and Robert Plant.  I found this version from Malcolm Holcolme that I really like.  See if you agree.

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“When I am in my painting, I’m not aware of what I’m doing. It is only after a sort of “get acquainted” period that I see what I have been about. I have no fears about making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well.”

–Jackson Pollock

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Well put words from Pollock, words that very much fit with how I feel about my own work and process, even though our works seem to have little in common in appearance.  I think it’s the harmony that he speaks of that is our common ground.  At least, I hope.

Note:  The show, Internal Landscapes: The Paintings of GC Myers, has opened two days early at the Fenimore Art Museum in Cooperstown.

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Aftermath

Had my Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery yesterday.  I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who turned out.  It was a great group who engaged in discussion almost immediately, asking questions and offering observations.  They heard many of my familiar stories, such as the one about me as a child of about 9 seeing a woodchuck who had died next to the old barn across from our home.  His body desiccated over the course of that summer and a vine grew his carcass, lifting it a few feet into the air.  It was a  striking image that several decades later led to my Red Chairs hanging in the trees of my paintings.

Some of the observations offered interested me.  One, from a man who has followed my work for many years,  thought that this new group of work displayed an emotional anger behind it, which at first caught me off guard.  But the more we talked, the more I had to agree that these were indeed painted in response to things that bothered me , frustrated me and angered me.  It was obvious that they acted as a sort of pacifiers for me against the outer world.   It was interesting that he could sense the anger behind them.  I don’t see it myself, focusing more on the tranquil aspects although I know that the darkness around the edges and behind the placid colors refer to deeper and darker emotions.

Of course, time dictated that there were stories that were left untold, that there were subjects that were not broached.  I always fret about that afterwards, that there were things I wanted to discuss but somehow lost my train of thought during the talk or that there were questions that I didn’t answer fully enough before being pulled in another direction.  At least I have this forum to fill in the voids that I may have left yesterday.

But overall, it was a good talk and I couldn’t be more appreciative of those who attended or those who have followed my work over the years.  My work is nothing without their participation and feedback.  Thank you for taking part in this journey.

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Herb and Dorothy

 Fabled art collector Herb Vogel died last week at the age of 89.  Since I’m on the road today, I thought I would rerun a post I wrote a couple of years back about Herb and Dorothy.  Their passion for art was remarkable and showed that collectible art was not only for the very wealthy.  

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This is Herb and Dorothy Vogel.  Herb’s retired from his job at the post office and Dorothy from a job as a librarian.  They live in a small apartment in NYC.  The only connection I have with them is that Dorothy is from my hometown of Elmira.  That and the fascination I have for the passion that they possess for collecting art.

You see, the Vogels have compiled one of the greatest collections of modern art in the world over the past forty eight years or so.

I’ve written before that art does not have to be the sole province of the wealthy, that art is accessible to most every income level if the person really feels the desire to collect.  The Vogels are positive proof of that.

They married in the early 60’s and immediately began their obsession, living on Dorothy’s income as a librarian and using Herb’s paycheck to buy art. They sought out new and what they felt were important artists, meeting them and learning about them as they acquired early, important works from the artists before they were discovered by the greater art world.  Many artists became friends and gave them numerous pieces until their small apartment was bulging.  Artworks under the bed, artworks on the ceiling, artworks in every nook and cranny– art consumed their home.

By this time, their collection was recognized throughout the art world as one of the largest and most comprehensive collections held by a private collector.  In the 90’s, the National Gallery of Art took stewardship of their collection, allowing the Vogel’s collection to live on long after they are gone.  It also allowed the Vogel’s the room, as the collection was taken by the National Gallery, to continue collecting with the same passion for the modern art they so loved.  It’s said that their collection is probably worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars today but that was never the reason behind their manic collecting.  It was about their love of, and connection to, the art.  It proves that wealth or income is not the primary factor in collecting.

Only a passion and desire.

The story of Herb and Dorothy Vogel is a great story and was the subject of an award-winning documentary this past year called, of course, Herb and Dorothy.  There is also a ton of written articles and broadcast stories out there about the Vogels, so please look them up.  You may not like a lot of the work they collect but their passion is worth watching.

Here’s a trailer for the documentary:

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