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Posts Tagged ‘Corning NY’

DispatchesThis is the title piece from my show, Dispatches, which opens this coming Friday, July 24, at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY.

This painting has a lot of motion in it from the leaves and bend of the limbs on the trees to the way the color seems to move over the texture of the sky.  It’s a pretty simple composition that allows the motion and color to take center stage although I still believe the strength of this piece comes from how one sees the central message, which is contained in its title, Dispatches.

It’s primarily about our interaction with the world and how much we’re willing to give of ourselves.  What we send out into the world.  Our intentions shape our actions and our actions define us.  

What message are you sending out to the world?

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 The Dark Blue Above  This is a new piece that’s titled The Dark Blue Above.  It’s very much about atmosphere and feel, very much about the weight of the sky and the potency of color and texture that give it a certain presence.  I think the simplicity of the overall composition enhances this feeling.

Makes me think again of my own smallness, my own insignificance in this world and this universe.  It’s a catalyst and sets me thinking on the nature of all things.  How? Why?

I guess that’s all I can ask out of a piece of work.  

This piece is past of Dispatches, my solo show at the West End Gallery that opens July 24.

On this Sunday morning here’s a song from Johnny Cash that sort of fits the feeling of the painting…

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9909-234  Wind of History smallThis is a new painting that is titled Wind of History, part of my next solo show at the West End Gallery.  The show, Dispatches, begins next Friday, July 24, with an opening running from 5-7:30 PM.

This is a very striking piece, one that demands immediate attention.  It has a lot of different aspects that all contribute to the overall impact.  It has a very graphic quality in the strong color and the way the multiple  layers below stack together.  There’s also great visual interest in the sky’s texture, which may not show very well in the image here.  The stones below the surface echo the light of the sun (or is it a moon?) in this sky. 

Adding to this is the motion in the trees with the central figure, the Red Tree, astride a hillock.  There is motion in the strata below as well which gives the impression of them being a part of a wave under the ground’s surface.  The Red Tree seems to ride this wave.

There’s a lot about this piece that I like.  For me, the Archaeology-like paintings are more about abstraction that the final painting’s representation.  By that, I mean, when I start a piece like this I have little or no idea where it’s going.  The piece builds from the bottom, in the layers.  As I paint them, there is little thought to what will be above.  It’s, as I said, very abstract at this point, all about color and shape and how each bit relates to the other.  One layer dictates how the next will form.  It’s an interesting time in the painting of the piece.

I think all of the elements in this painting come together very well, creating a unity that I think translates really well.  It has a powerful feel, at least in my eyes.  I hope it comes across to others as well.

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DSC_1055 smallTake heed: You do not find what you do not seek.  -English Proverb

 

This is another piece from my solo exhibition at the West End Gallery in Corning , opening July 24.  The title of this painting is Take Heed, taken from the English proverb shown above, which serves as a reminder that we have the ability to set our own paths and destinations.  It seems that all too many people live their lives without any thought to where they want their lives to take them.  They simply take the path that is immediately before them , that which is easy.  They will never know what might be  off the path they follow, which is the path of others.

 

 


 


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DSC_1048 smallThis is a new piece, Soul Lights, that is part of my upcoming show that opens July 24th at the West End Gallery in Corning.  It is painted in my obsessionist style, one that I have mentioned in previous posts.

The title of this painting comes from the way the sky is formed from many patches of color and the way the light is formed therein.  It reminded me of one of the supposed byproducts of the string theory which is a very  speculative area of quantum physics.  Without going into the scientific basis for the theory ( which I really couldn’t do very well anyway), string theory basically creates a platform where extra dimensions could and may exist alongside the dimensions that we know and dwell within, without our knowledge of their existence.   A simplified example of how this might work is the way we are surrounded by radio signals all the time without our knowledge but with the proper receptor, a radio, they become apparent.  With string theory, perhaps there are also parallel dimensions around us without our knowledge, dimensions that contain others forms of energy, other forms of existence.

People have used this as theoretical basis for many things such as time travel, the existence of UFOs, and things supernatural such as ghosts and other spectral occurrences.  The string theory has been a very fertile field for science fiction writers to work.  

Perhaps it also provides a place where the soul, the source of energy that animates the body,  ultimately dwells.  Perhaps there is the energy of souls all around us in these alternative dimensions.  Maybe the photons we see are also the part, a facet, of something unseen.  That’s how I see the sky in this painting, as masses of disparate energies that we only see partially in the dimensions we can detect.

Okay, remember that it is early in the morning when I’m writing this.  I’m not smart enough to really discuss quantum physics.  I am not familiar with all the New Age-y spiritualism.   I’m just saying there is some form of energy out there in the light we see.  What it is, I surely don’t know.  In this painting I like to see it as light and energy of souls.  

And that makes me feel good…

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 New Precious This is a new painting that will be hanging at the West End Gallery at my next solo exhibit, Dispatches, which opens July 24.  This piece, titled New Precious, is painted in what I have termed an obsessionist style, a term that differentiates it from the style I use in much of my work.

I use the term obsession because it best describes the feeling I have when I’m painting these pieces.  There is a complete immersion in the painting and every stroke changes the piece and dictates the subsequent stroke.  It requires complete focus on the canvas to maintain wholeness throughout.  I really enjoy painting in this way,  enjoy the feeling of connecting so completely to the surface.

This particular piece has a very iconic feel, thus the title, New Precious.  By iconic, I mean the painting has a feeling of being presented as an object rather than a portrayal of a scene.  This is something I have always looked for in my painting.  I feel that this objectification gives the painting a physical presence when hanging on the wall that gives it a sense of weight and gravity.  I think these qualities, these intangibles,  contribute heavily to the first overall impression a piece makes on the viewer, which is the point where their determination of connection to the piece is often made.  This first impression is the gateway into the painting for many viewers.

It’s hard to tell if a piece succeeds in this way and impossible to plan such a result.  But I think it remains important to maintain the goal and  hope that occasionally the mark is met.

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Postcard 2009 WE 2 smallI’m in the final weeks before my next show for the year, opening July 24 at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY.  This is, as I wrote in earlier posts, the the time when I’m finishing up the last details of painting on the body of work, varnishing finished canvases, getting the frames prepped  and titling each painting.  Hectic.

The title of this show is Dispatches.  Linda Gardner, owner of the West End, asked the other day for a show statement and I realized I had not had a chance to write one.  I don’t always write a statement for my shows but Lin likes to use quotes from the statements in preparing press releases and other publicity for the show so I always do one for her.

This is my first draft of this year’s statement:

Dispatches.

 

Messages sent out into the world. The act of communication.

 

The name for this group of work came from this idea that has been rolling around in my head for a while. I’ve began to realize, over the years that I have been fortunate enough to show my work at the West End Gallery, that my paintings are not about simply portraying a scene, merely creating a pleasant decoration for one’s home or office. I realize now that they are a form of communication, a way of transmitting a feeling across that void between the picture and the viewer’s eyes and making a connection. It’s this connection, this union between the painted surface and the viewer’s own experiences, that gives voice to the work and allows it to say more than I ever consciously could.

 

I wish I could explain how this connection comes about. I wish I could explain the alchemy behind how a simple painted surface affects another person. I wish I could know how to insert my desired message into a painting. But I can’t.

 

So, knowing that I can’t control this reaction between the painting and the viewer, I have started looking on the work I do as dispatches, messages sent out into the world. Being such, for them to reflect what I want for myself, they must be earnest and honest. They must be true to my way of being if they are to reach out to others and reflect their own truth.

 

So, this is how I see this work. Dispatches. Messaages. If I have been true to myself, some will make that connection.

 

 

-GC Myers

July, 2009


 

Dispatches.
Messages sent out into the world.  The act of communication.  
The name for this group of work came from this idea that has been rolling around in my head for a while. I’ve began to realize, over the years that I have been fortunate enough to show my work at the West End Gallery, that my paintings are not about simply portraying a scene, merely creating a pleasant decoration for one’s home or office. I realize now that they are a form of communication, a way of transmitting a feeling across that void between the picture and the viewer’s eyes and making a connection.  It’s this connection, this union between the painted surface and the viewer’s own experiences,  that gives voice to the work and allows it to say more than I ever consciously could.
I wish I could explain how this connection comes about.  I wish I could explain the alchemy behind how a simple painted surface affects another person.  I wish I could know how to insert my desired message into a painting.  But I can’t.  
So, knowing that I can’t control this reaction between the painting and the viewer, I have started looking on the work I do as dispatches, messages sent out into the world.  Being such, for them to reflect what I want for myself, they must be earnest and honest.  They must be true to my way of being if they are to reach out to others and reflect their own truth.
So, this is how I see this work.  Dispatches.  Messaages.  If I have been true to myself, some will make that connection.  
-GC Myers
July, 2009

 

 

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Poole Early MeltI am currently in the process of getting ready for my annual show at the West End Gallery in Corning, NY.  This exhibit, titled Dispatches, is my ninth solo show at the gallery which was the first gallery to exhibit my work, starting back in 1995.  

For the past several years at the West End, the show that is hanging in the month or so before my show is from one of my favorite artists,  Martin Poole, who also lives in this area.  Marty’s work is always beautiful, with wonderful handling of the paint and luminosity in his colors.  There is little he can’t do with a brush and it shows in all the genres he paints.

Poole CassandraHis landscapes are filled with light and space, often immense, complex  skies that fill the picture plane.  His portraiture goes beyond traditional portrait painting.  For Marty, it’s not enough to paint a superb representation of the subject- it’s more important to have them be mere components in a beautiful composition, which makes for a more interesting viewing experience for all.  Marty’s unique eye comes through in everything he paints and other painters usually just sigh resignedly when they look at his stuff.Poole Long Talk

I know I have on more than one occasion.

It’s always a daunting task to follow Marty’s show at the West End.  His shows are always filled with beautiful, strong work that draws raves and oohs and aahs.  You never want to be the one who comes in with a lackluster show after Marty sets the bar a little higher each year.  So, I work a little harder after I see his show each year and hope I can match his consistency and his obvious commitment to his work.  It’s the sort of pressure that some artists don’t enjoy, having to follow the show of a highly skilled and well known artist.  I can’t say I enjoy it but I know it provides an impetus to continue striving, to continue to grow my work.  For that alone, it’s a pleasure to follow the Martin Poole show.

You can see the work of Martin Poole in a number galleries throughout the country including the West End in Corning and the the Principle Gallery in Alexandria, VA.  His current show at the West End hangs until July 18.

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AswirlIt’s Monday morning, back in the studio.  After a show, there’s always a period of settling back into my routine which is something that is really important for me as I’m a real creature of habit.  It takes a couple of days to digest the events of the past few days so these first days are kind of sluggish, just tying up loose ends to little projects and straightening up the studio.  Start focusing on the next goal which is my annual show at the West End Gallery in Corning at the end of July.  

There’s also always a slight melancholy, something I may have mentioned before.  I’ve heard about this from other artists as well.  I think there’s always a letdown after you finish a project, such as a show, that you’ve been so focused on for a period of time.  During the preparation the goal drives you on but suddenly the day arrives and the goal is no longer there.  So you float a bit, tread a little water, until you determine what the next goal will be.  Luckily, I have my next show so I can swing into that with only a slight case of funk.

So today is spent with errands and such but tomorrow I’m back in full swing.  But until then I will enjoy my quiet time and that small bit of melancholy.  Here’s a song in that spirit from Steve Earle (in his heavy phase) with a song written to his friend, Townes Van Zandt,  on his passing.  Enjoy Fort Worth Blues

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Copyright Bill Murcko Three Packs a Day There was an opening last night at the Principle Gallery featuring a group of work from artist Bill Murcko called Brothers of the Road, a collection of paintings featuring bikers in all their regalia.  Chatting with the gallery owner, she commented that she didn’t know if any bikers would be showing up for the show.  That immediately set off a memory from when I was kid.

It was in the mid-60’s and I was no older than eight years old when I accompanied my uncles and father to a hill climb on a steep hillside near Corning.  The whole idea of a hillclimb is to see who could conquer the sharp rise of the hill while staying aboard their motorcycles without flying off and sliding (or rather, tumbling) back to the bottom of the hill.

It was a sunny summer day and the field at the base of the hill was littered with all sorts of bikes, mostly pared down iron monsters from the 50’s.  There were Lincolns, Indians and BSA’s, all having that  the throaty sound like chainsaw noise filtered through a big cardboard tube, making it echo and somewhat rounder in sound.  I don’t know if that description makes sense but the sound was so different that the high squeals of modern bikes racing down the highway.

early-hill-climbOne after another guys in leather pants and armless  denim jackets, most without helmets,  would get a running start at the bottom of the steep decline and fire upward, trying to fine the line that would take them to the top.  Dirt flying, undulating back and forth as their bikes belched fire they climbed higher and higher above the crowd only to come to a even steeper point in the hill.  Gunning it, they dove into the rise.  Many would suddenly flip to one side or another, their bikes stalling out as they dug their legs into the ground trying to not start rolling down the hill.  An unfortunate few didn’t get to do this instead flipping over backwards and tumbling a good portion of the way down the hill.

it was pretty cool for a kid.

But the part that remains with me most were the motorcycle gangs that were in the crowd watching.  I was awestruck watching these people.  They were unlike anything I had seen at this point in my life.  The group next to us was gang out of Detroit, the name of which had evaded my memory over the many years.  Scorpions? I can’t quite remember the image on their jacket backs.  They were bearded and filthy, most dressed in black leather or grimy denim covered with writing and patches.  Some had bike chains worn like military braids.  The thing that caught my eye were the animal paws that hung like medals from their jackets.  Were those dog paws?  One looked like a lion’s paw, for chrissakes!  

This was in the days before pop-tops of any type on beer cans.  To open a can you had to use a can opener that cut a triangular hole on the can top.  They would open a can with can openers that hung from many of their jackets and would drink the beer by holding the can at arms length and let the beer sail through air to their waiting gobs. 

Perhaps the most vivid memory from that day was of a biker lady.  She had hair that was bleached to a pale yellow-white.  I had never seen hair that color before.  She fascinated me as I stood staring at her from about eight feet away.  She was wearing worn leather pants and a black and white polka dot bra.  Nothing else.  It was, again, a new look for me.  She wore dark glasses and held a can of beer  as she looked up at the hill.

There was no trouble that day and I didn’t leave with bad memories of those people, although I was still a little worried about those paws.  Over the years whenever I’d see a biker wearing his colors I flash back to that summer day in ’66 or ’67 and that biker lady in her polka dot bra.

You can see more of Bill Murcko’s work at the Principle Gallery in Alexandria, VA or at his website.

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