The last time I was in London, I visited the old Tate, anticipating what I thought would be a room full of Constable paintings. Looking forward to some illuminating picture-viewing I followed the gallery map to the appropriate room and found instead scaffolding, dropsheets, paint cans, and other materials scattered about. At first a little disappointed, I did however find this an interesting subject that might make a painting, so I took some photographs. It looked a lot to me like a contemporary art installation.
Painting as a Pastime
Winston Churchill, excerpt from Painting as a Pastime, 1950:
Painting is complete as a distraction. I know of nothing which, without exhausting the body, more entirely absorbs the mind. Whatever the worries of the hour or the threats of the future, once the picture has begun to flow along, there is no room for them in the mental screen. They pass out into shadow and darkness. All one’s mental light, such as it is, becomes concentrated on the task. Time stands respectfully aside.
drawing the world
Invention and Revival:
The Colour Drypoints of David Milne and John Hartman
Burnaby Art Gallery, June 2 – July 19, 2009
David Milne invented and mastered the colour drypoint technique at the beginning of the 20th Century. John Hartman revived and sought to explore the technique some forty years later. Though their lives only overlapped for three years, the combination of each artist’s work demonstrates adept skill and insight into a lesser known primaking medium through the subjects they have chosen to explore, document and capture.
Invention and Revival: The Colour Drypoints of David Milne and John Hartman was curated by Rosemarie Tovell with an essay by Anne-marie Ninacs. The exhibition has been organized and circulated by Carleton University Art Gallery.
Artist tour and talk with John Hartman – Sunday, June 7, 4:30 pm
Curator tour and talk with Rosemarie Tovell – Sunday, July 19, 4:30 pm
This fabulous exhibition is part of Vancouver’s first Drawn Festival.
On astonishment
Excerpted from an essay by Michael Cox
When was the last time you heard someone (probably young, probably female) say, “Oh my God!” about something, anything, they heard or were relating to someone else? It would be an understatement sans pareil to say it is not an uncommon expression these days. But because of its ubiquity, it has perhaps lost its capacity to truly express astonishment.
read more here
Negotiating Uncertainty
Living Room (below) has come a long way in six days. I guess Malcolm Morley was right: “if the inspiration is there, the process follows”. I think it’s well on its way.
The process of making a painting is rarely straight-ahead. Since I don’t work with formulas, each piece is a way of starting again. At the first lay-in (starting layer of paint) of a multi-panel piece, my initial excitement was followed by huge self-doubt. Convinced that I had begun a project impossible to complete, I pronounced the painting a failure, and turned the panels against the wall for about a week. In a brave moment, I showed them to some supportive painter friends, who thought the project worth pursuing.
If I feel a glimmer of excitement about the possibilities, that’s a good sign. These things never work out if I just do something because I think it will be good for me (martyrdom definitely not on the agenda).
Only through time and effort will I know whether I can pull it off. There’s still a possibility that three or four weeks of work will go nowhere, but I’m optimistic it will be worth the effort. Or will it?
This painting is based on a photograph sent to me by my friend and amazing artist, Chris Dorosz.
The Painted Hall Revisited
Below is one of the newest works completed in my studio. I am currently painting a handful of pieces for the Galerie de Bellefeuille, so my body of work for the Bau-Xi (forthcoming, November in Toronto) is on hold temporarily to fulfill that obligation.
I have previously made I think two other works of the Painted Hall in Chatsworth. Something about the geometry and light of this room keeps me coming back. No two works are ever alike–I am a slightly different person today than I was yesterday, and quite changed from the person who painted a similar piece two years ago; my way of laying down marks has been shifting.
It’s also admittedly an excuse to spend time in this room again. I don’t think I have delusions of grandeur, but the hall, which was expertly decorated for an overall stunning effect, is great fodder for a painter. This piece, which is 36 x 48 inches, took around five days to complete. I would love to do one more, much larger, so you can physically feel the space.
Music to paint by #2: Shaking and Trembling by John Adams
“The basic way I compose is to take a cluster of sound, like a handful of paint. First of all I give it some kind of rhythmic impetus, and then I let it go forward. There’s a sense of a vehicle travelling forward across terrain.” John Adams, composer, in an interview with Robert Davison
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aLwfDoaCsw]This fabulous piece is by the American composer, John Adams, who in his earlier work used to make sparer, less melodic music, until he discovered how rewarding it was to create sounds that made people feel something. The rest is history, including great pieces such as Short Ride in a Fast Machine, Violin Concerto, and Shaker Loops, of which this rather raw video is an excerpt. His early influence was John Cage, but as his work matured it became more rhythmic and emotional (one could say Romantic) with close links to the work of Terry Riley and Steve Reich.
This video recording, by the way, is of young musicians, none of whom are over 18 years of age.
You can listen to John Adams talk about his work and his influences here.
Trusting your instincts
If Jonathan Adler had listened to his pottery professor at art school, he would have quit being an artist and got a job as a lawyer. Luckily for us, he didn’t take her advice. Instead, he parlayed his wacky and shameless ideas into a hugely successful design career.
Everyone else may have already seen this, but since I don’t have cable, I just discovered Adler and his book My Prescription for Anti-Depressive Living in the library on the weekend. Along with images of his delicious and uplifting designs, he peppers humorous anecdotes and strong opinions throughout the book. Below is an excerpt with Adler’s take on the contemporary artworld today, and his philosophy on design.
“When I look at the artworld today, I get pretty depressed. I think that somewhere along the way, people were tricked into believing that art has to be incomprehensible and skill-free and ugly. I totally reject that idea. I want my work to be communicative and beautiful and, I hope, impactful on an emotional level before an intellectual level.”
Jonathan and his talented window-dresser husband live happily together with their dog, Liberace.
Beauty and the sublime-the monstrous talent of Kristine Moran
Talented Canadian painter Kristine Moran has made a huge leap forward with her recent work. Fluid, fearless, and gorgeous, her canvases flow in a seemingly effortless stream of painterly virtuosity and keen observance of contemporary life.
Her paintings represent “the grit and rawness that bubbles just below the surface of society, that which exists among all of us but is seldom acknowledged.”
A recipient of numerous awards, Kristine is a recent MFA graduate of Hunter College, and is currently enjoying the benefits of the Mary Walsh Sharp Foundation studio space prize in New York City.
She is represented by Nichelle Beauchene Gallery.
The new romanticism?
Tim Gardner’s painting exhibition on now at Vancouver’s Contemporary Art Gallery affirms for me something I have been feeling for some time now. Could it be that a new sincerity, indeed a new romantic movement is afoot?
Gardner’s small watercolor mountain vistas and light-drenched children’s playground reveal a sensitivity that seems to have been undervalued in recent trends. True, his more typical painting of a pal giving the finger to the photographer’s camera while resting at the summit of a hike, and a homeless man picking up trash, adds edge to the exhibition, but then the glow from birthday candles on his mother’s face bring one back to a warmth and empathy for his subjects.
With the new pragmatic “get things done” spirit in Washington, and the economic downturn forcing us all to look at what is truly important to us, I am wondering if this will encourage an opening up in the artworld to more heartfelt subjects. Perhaps Gardner is onto something.
Tim Gardner is represented by 303 Gallery in New York.