painting

Art related events in London continuously amaze me.  A recent example was a portrait painting demonstration given at the Mall Galleries by James Horton, president of the Royal Society of British Artists (RBA).  I’m convinced that I spent too much time isolated in my own studio and now I’m being blown away by being exposed to other people’s work.  Mr. Horton was painting this young (squirming) woman in the middle of the main gallery with a crowd of people watching over his shoulders.  I was in awe of how accurately he rendered her face and how seldom he used white paint (note to self).  I found out after the demonstration that he takes art students on painting trips to places like India.  That might have to be added to my list of things to do in life.

The demo happened to be scheduled during the RBA’s Annual Exhibition, a group show of RBA’s members.  There were several pieces that I was drawn to but one in particular that I couldn’t stop staring at.  Of course a photo doesn’t do it justice (especially as this doesn’t illustrate the massive size of the canvas), but nonetheless I had to share a glimpse of this studio painting by Ken Howard.  Now I’m determined to see if he also teaches.  There just aren’t enough hours in the day, sigh.

No, I’m not exploiting the homeless waiting for a hot meal with my camera, although it appears that way.  I quickly snapped this photo of the line I was standing in to drop off one of my paintings for the Royal Academy of Arts summer exhibition.  The flood of other artists doing the same was quite the reminder that I’m no longer in mid-west America.  Here’s a little insight into the scale of this exhibition:

One of the founding principles of the Royal Academy of Arts was to ‘mount an annual exhibition open to all artists of distinguished merit’ to finance the training of young artists in the RA Schools. Now known as the Summer Exhibition and held every year without interruption since 1769, the exhibition attracts around 10,000 works, the selection being carried out by Academicians chaired by the President.

The Summer Exhibition is the largest open contemporary art exhibition in the world, drawing together a wide range of new work by both established and unknown living artists.

Yes, I’m competing with about 10,000 other artists to get into this show.  I’m not holding my breath. However, you’re welcome to knock on wood or cross your fingers for me.

This week I went to my first art auction at Christie’s.  Firstly, I was surprised they would let me in as I hadn’t given them any promise of making a bid and therefore did not provide any financial information.  Much to my surprise, their auctions are open to the public (I’m guessing that’s not the case for the truly celebrity status sales, e.g. selling a Monet).

So there I am, making my presence known, not because I’m making a scene, but rather because I’m the only person in the room watching the audience and not the auctioneer and artwork.  I had already gone to the show room the day before to see the Victorian and British Impressionist paintings that were to be auctioned the next day, so I was much more interested in how an auction works, who attends them, what they do and who buys what.  I left with far more questions than I came with.  For example:

• Who are these people that sit or stand behind the desks and make bids for people via phone?  They’re not wearing Christie’s uniforms or name tags.  Can anyone who is a representing a bidder on the phone show up and snag a seat, first come for serve?  The auctioneer seemed to know them all by name, so I’m going to assume for the time being that I should not sit behind the desks because I seem to have two critical requirements for this post: 1. claim to know someone who may want to bid and 2. a cell phone.
• Do the mobile phone companies here list the auction houses as priority locations to ensure service?  Can you imagine that customer service call?  “May I ask why are you canceling your service with us, sir?” “Because you dropped my call while I was bidding on a £30,000 painting.”
• What if no one bids?  Does Christie’s claim to be the first bidder to get people competitive and cut their loses if no one bits?
• How do they validate the work?  They must have a team of experts evaluating each item ensuring that customers don’t come back claiming they were sold a fraud.  That sounds like a lot of overhead, but let me assure you, from my one observation, Christie’s does not seem to not hurting for money.  I lost track of sales after about 20 of 150+ paintings.

What did I learn by people watching?  Bidding on art is like playing poker, you have to have your game face on or you’ll pay more than necessary; auctioneers have phenomenal peripheral vision; when someone wants something, they’ll pay an absurd amount of money for it (see observation 1 bad-poker-face-bidders); and the recession has certainly bypassed a small number of fortunate individuals.

Have you ever heard of a private art gallery exhibiting paintings by a world renown departed artist (usually reserved for a museum)?  Me either.  Well, I found one such gallery exhibiting the work of Claude Monet.  The artworks were on loan from private owners (or property of the gallery owner).  It’s really a rare privilege to see these paintings not shown to the public otherwise.

I’m reading a book about the lives of the Impressionist painters, including Monet.  This made the exhibit that much more personal.  He, like myself, had a hard time convincing dear dad to stand behind a career as an artist.  He also preferred to study at come-and-go-as-you-please studio owned by another artist instead of following the assumed path of study at the prestigious École des Beaux Arts.  Yeah! Who needs ‘em anyway?

I was amused by Monet’s sometimes light-hearted brush work, seemingly for paintings I assume were studies.  Up close, the lines look like child’s play.  At a distance, the swiggles seamlessly form cohesive landscapes.  I can hear my college painting professor telling me as he stood over my shoulder, “Get out of your chair.  You can’t see what you’re painting when you’re that close.  Hold your paintbrush like a sword, at arm’s length.”  I still sit while I paint, but I’ll admit, he was right.

What a whirlwind the past few weeks have been.  I just got back on Sunday from nine days in London.  The next morning I (re)packed my suitcase for New Bremen, Ohio.  What’s in New Bremen you ask?  Not much, which is the point.  A friend has property there and a phenomenal setup for artists to work in.  I would call it an artist residency center, but the place isn’t advertised.  I talked to a farmer yesterday who leases some of the land.  He told me, “There aren’t artists here that often, only people [my friend] invites.  Usually they’re a pretty big deal.”  I tried not to blow my cover and tell him that standard did not apply to me.

This is my second day and I’ve made good progress on four paintings.  I hope to finish three of them and at least one other work in progress I brought with me.  I’m also trying to wrap up three books I’ve been lingering on for far too long.  Oh the things I never get to at home.  I guess it would help if i could kick my jet lag and stay up past 9pm.

First, let me tell you how much I love my new iPhone, which allowed to me sneak tons of photos at the Cincinnati Art Museum (it’s easy to trick the docents into thinking you’re sending a text message).  So, I got a great close up of this stunning painting by Henry Mosler.

I have been painting since high school and drawing since I was knee-high to a grasshopper (I love saying that).  Yet, I see paintings like this and think, “How is that done?”  Yeah, I sort of stand there with my mouth hanging open while people pass me and the painting by.

Then, I want to race home and paint before my head explodes.  That’s a less poetic way of describing how inspiring it is.

Things worth avoiding:

• Temperatures below 50 degrees (I’m a firm believer in outside air being in close proximity to your body temp)
• Snow, unless the word is followed by “cone,” in which case you’re likely to be someplace warm
• “Defrosting” your car (does that sound as ridiculous to anyone as it does it me?)
• Paying over $200/month to heat a tiny apartment
• Ice crystal formations on your bedroom window that make you feel like you’re in some weird sci-fi movie and part of a petri dish

I got away last weekend to a place where flip flops are appropriate year round and snow is something you only see photos of in library books (where it belongs!).  For a long weekend, I soaked up the most beautiful and inspiring ambiance while staying at the Gallery Inn in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The owner, Jan D’Esopo, is an artist who has turned her creativity into a successful career that would make any painter drool.  This lady gets it.  She was born in NYC, lived in Conneticut since father taught at Yale (where she studied at the school of fine arts), and now owns a 16th century building in Old San Juan she and her husband tranformed into a hotel.

Jan hosts art workshops and musical performances at the Gallery Inn.  It truly is a place to get an injection of creativity.  I got to paint with Jan by the pool, where she showed me how to use acrylic paints like watercolors (no, really, you can’t tell the difference and the paint won’t bleed. Ok, now I’m off on a nuanced artist’s tangent).  Needless to say, it was an enchanting weekend.

I got an email the other day from someone who stumbled across my other blog about art and activism.  He mentioned that although he’s in Cincinnati, he had recently visited Louisville (which inspired the said online search), and was on his way to Chile to visit friends (who he is telling about my work!)

I had to share what he said at the close of his email:

“PS: In exchange for reading some of the thoughts you share in your blogging, here are some notes I scribbled today - not claiming these lines are anything more than a draft with more-than-normal typos from using a foreign keyboard, but the words have some connection to me thinking about your artist-activist lifestyle.

THERE IS AN ITCHING IN MY LEGS
I WANT TO LEAP
I WANT TO RUN
SPINNING WITH ACTIVITY
I FEEL THE THREAD-THIN IMPORTANCE OF MY LIFE
THREAD THAT GAINS STRENGTH WHEN INTERTWINED
OR INTERWOVEN WITH OTHER SLIGHT FIBERS

I WANT TO LIE IN CALM REPOSE
WATCHING RIVERS FLOW
YET TODAY I MIND MY DUTY TO CARRY WATER
TO THOSE WHO CANNOT REACH THE STREAM

THERE IS AN ITCHING IN MY LIMBS
NOT A BURNING
– PERHAPS JUST A TICKLE,
A SPINNING OF ENERGY –
I COULD SOAK IT UP
ABSORB ITS DIZZY-BUZZING-HIGH.
NOT TODAY THOUGH.

RATHER THAN REMAIN MERE FIBER, LOOSE, KNOTTED, UNMATTED,
I SUMMON (IMAGES OF) WORKING, HARD-CALLOUSED HANDS:
GANDHI SPIN-DROPPING HIS SPOOL OF NATIVE COTTON BY THE SEA,
THE THREE THREAD-SPINNING FATES,
THE WISE OLD WOMEN WHO KEEP TALENTS ALIVE,
THE YOUNG APPRENTICES WHO WILL CONTINUE SPINNING AFTER ELDERS DIE…
MAY MY VEGETABLE/VEGETATIVE MATTER SPIDER-SPIN A LINE
WITH STRENGTH ENOUGH TO MEND, NOT TO BIND”

Wow!  Am I blushing?

I was downstairs yesterday in the LVAA gallery prepping for a group of girls from Maryhurst who were coming to see the Rob Shetterly Americans Who Tell the Truth exhibit. I was working my way through Shetterly’s paintings, reading each bio so that I could intelligently speak to the girls, when the painting above of Rev Cecil Williams deflated my latest gripe like a popped balloon.

The pace of 08 and overwhelming volume of its rapid fire events has stressed me out a bit, but the quote in this painting put it in perspective,

“Death isn’t the greatest thing to be feared for it homogenizes everyone, makes us all equally dead.

Most folks are afraid of living because abundant life requires risking everything to love, liberate, and accept yourself and others now. People are afraid of life for it creates diversity and requires commitment to action. To live is to struggle.”

Right on! So what if my stress is shaving years off my life like a smoking habit? I’ll die at the end of one hell of an accomplished existence that will leave those who played it safe wondering, “What was I waiting for?”

Woohoo! I’m the October featured artist on Five0Two.