Abstract Art Blog

Art Centers

At our last local artists' meeting, someone brought up the topic of having an art center in town.  The Ithaca, New York regional area is home to many visual artists (as well as musicians and writers), yet there are very few places to exhibit locally.  We do have a couple of not-for-profit spaces that show art, but one is tiny and hardly ever open, and the other, which isn't much better, will be lost soon due to the sale of the building it is housed in.  We don't have much in the way of for-profit galleries, either. 

My response to this issue has always been to ignore Ithaca as a place to sell art.  It's lovely living here and making art, but not a good place for marketing.  When the tourists come through, they are looking for a photo or painting of a waterfall or gorge, certainly not my non-representational abstracts.  The artists who cater to this market have a better chance to sell.

Establishing an art center takes money, and it's unclear where we would get the funding.  There is an art center at Corning, New York, which is supported by Corning Glass.  Check out 171 Cedar Arts.  They offer classes as well as exhibitions. 

We have Cornell University in Ithaca, but they have put their money for the arts into the Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art.  They occasionally show a few Ithaca artists' work in a summer exhibition.

Taking a look at art centers on the internet, I came across the Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art, which opened in 1956 as a non-profit visual arts organization in Winston-Salem, NC.  When an industrialist willed his 32-acre estate to the gallery, they increased their scope to 11 southeastern states.

Most non-profit organizations function due to the sweat of many volunteers.  It takes that plus gifts and grants to make a success.  Artists usually do not have the money or the time to fill these slots.  What we need is a wealthy art lover to get such a project off the ground. 

It's true that artists often start and manage co-op galleries with group funds and energy, but how many actually make a profit for their artists? 

For now, I'll pass on putting my time and energy into starting an art center in Ithaca. 

 

Early Abstract Paintings

  Crossroads, 36" x 36"

Over the years, my sister Laura and her husband have collected a lot of my art.  When they moved to Ithaca this year, I got to see it all.  It's always instructive to see what I was painting earlier in life, such as the above piece from 1989.

"Crossroads" was painted when I lived in San Diego, and I believe the piece below was also:

  Outland Paths, 60" x 60"

I see that I loved line then, and that love has carried over into my present work. 

For a short period, I included bits of text into my paintings.  This one was painted when I lived in Alexandria, Virginia:

  I Love Ice Cream, 40" x 40"

Looking back, I'm not sure what was going on in my head, but some of the phrases included (as well as the title phrase) are "believe," "now," and "before we judge."

Looking over work from our past is a bit like revisiting our earlier selves. In it we see the signs that led to current directions in our art. 

Naming an Abstract Painting

  Abstract Canvas #46 48" x 48"

After completing this painting recently, I needed to find a name for it.  Some artists may have a name in mind when they begin a painting, but I never do.  It's not until I photograph it after it's finished, usually, that I come up with a name.  At that point, some images suggest a name immediately, like this one:

Splash, 44" x 44"

With canvas #46, however, no name immediately came to mind.  But I was listening to a Leonard Cohen album, and the words "what they meant" struck me.  This phrase is abstract enough that it works as a title for abstract art.  Here's the painting on my website:  What They Meant.

Do titles of abstract paintings really matter?  When I was young, I refused to name my paintings because I didn't want to influence what the viewer saw in them.  Some non-objective  (non-representational) painters  give their canvases numbers rather than titles for this reason. 

But it is unwieldy to use numbers, and I believe my clients would prefer to have a painting with an actual title rather than a number.  In fact, sometimes the name is a big influence in the sale.  Someone purchased a print of my painting, "Laughing Lotus" because of the name.  It was a gift for the owner of a yoga center.  I'm sure the buyer also liked the painting, but they found it by searching for the word "lotus" on the internet.  Here it is:

Laughing Lotus 48" x 48"

Since I am bipolar, and sometimes depressed when I paint, there were times when I would give a painting a name with a negative connotation.  I did a series of "death paintings" for example, in which the word "death"  appeared subtly in each canvas.  I titled them "Death Painting One . . . Two . . ." and so forth.  Now that is an extreme example of how not to name your art if you want to sell it.

Death Painting One

Starving Artists

Every so often I hear from an artist who is struggling to make a living, struggling to find time to paint, and struggling to market their art.  Most artists in the United States do not make a living by selling their art.  Some find commercial ways to use their talents--in advertising, business web design, interior design, etc.  Some get MFA degrees and teach.  Others work at anything they can find to put food on the table, making art evenings, weekends, or in the early morning. 

I heard from a young artist today who is struggling simply to put food on the table, with little time for her art or the marketing of it.  My heart goes out to her, for I spent much of my life dealing with the same struggle. 

Our art requires much of us, and what it gives us in return is often unrelated to financial success.  Yet we are bound to pursue it.  I always felt much worse when I wasn't making art, no matter what else was going on in my life. 

Here are two canvases I've been working on, one complete and one not:

  Canvas #44  60" x 60"

  Canvas #46  48" x 48"

Back in the Studio after Chaos

Two days after Adrian and I flew home from California, our son Owen came to visit on a Thursday.  He and his father went out for a walk in the pouring rain, and when Adrian got back, he took to bed sick.  After that, he stayed in bed most of the time, and ate little, complaining of nausea and diarrhea.  That Sunday night about midnight, Owen got violently sick, vomiting and passing out.  The second time he fell flat on his face on the kitchen floor, giving himself a black eye and breaking his glasses.  We had to call 911 and have him taken to the emergency room. 

I could go into all the gory details, but the quick version is that I spent the last week taking care of two sick people, driving back and forth to the hospital, spending numerous hours there, cleaning up vomit, washing bedding, towels, etc. But at least I didn't catch whatever they had!

I finally got back into the studio yesterday to work on these two canvases.  The first is a continuation of my "culmination" theme:

  Canvas #44, 60" x 60"

The next is a background for something new, I hope:

Canvas #46, 48" x 48"

I was enjoying my newfound peace this morning, painting in the studio, when Adrian showed up bleeding all over the place after falling off his bicycle at the end of the driveway.  I got him cleaned up and bandaged up and went back to work. 

Absence Makes the Heart . . .

. . . grow fonder?  Adrian and I went to California on separate trips recently, and I think the separation did help us to appreciate each other more.  I was at my wits end with him before he left because he was not taking care of himself and resisting help from others.  He was angry at me for buying him a walker.  How dare I imply he needed one to get around?  Even if he was leaning on me, or an office chair with wheels, to get from the bedroom to the livingroom?

When I put him on the plane to San Francisco, California, I thought, "Let his sons take care of him for a week."  And they did.  A day later, I went off to my family reunion in Simi Valley.  We played lots of tennis and ping-pong and hung around my niece's beautiful pool--just the R & R I needed. 

I feel like I've been away from my art forever, though.  I managed to paint the top and bottom edges of my last two canvases after I got back, but then son Owen arrived for a visit and what with the Fourth of July, Wimbledon, and general laziness, I haven't done much work.

Here are the two canvases:

  Canvas #43, 60" x 60"

Canvas #45, 60" x 60"

Decadent Bourgeois Art

Sometimes I hate conceptual art so much I could scream!  I am sick of art that has to express a cultural or political critique of our times in order to be found relevant and worth hanging in a museum.  Of course the MFAs and art history majors must produce a thesis, and it is much easier to write one using theories of cultural critique than aesthetic values. 

I make beautiful paintings for people to hang on the walls of their homes and enjoy.  Thus, you could say I am making decadent bourgeois art.  Of course, it is my job only to paint it, not to interpret it. Let the critic or curator figure out what it means.

I studied a little theory myself in graduate school, and there was a catch-22 that stated, in brief, if you weren't critiquing the status quo, then you were automatically supporting it.  By providing art for the homes of the middle-class and wealthy, I am supporting the exploitative capitalist system. 

Artists are supposed to be social critics.  You can't simply follow your bliss and paint your passion.  You must make an intellectual statement as well. 

That's my rant for today.  Just finished working on two paintings.  One, I think is ready:

Canvas #43  60" x 60"

The second one still needs more:

  Canvas #45  60" x 60"

The Challenge of Very Large Abstract Paintings

Over the past week or two, I have been working on some 5 feet by 5 feet canvases, and each time I do this, I forget how physically demanding large canvases can be.  I am continuing to explore the pattern-painting motif  I've been developing lately, and creating them on this large scale is a challenge. Here are three canvases in various stages:

Canvas #44, 60" x 60"

Canvas #45

  Canvas #43, 60" x 60"

In order to fill in the patterns I'd drawn, I had to crane my neck uncomfortably for the high ones and sit on the floor to paint the low ones.

We had a friend visit for a few days, just when temps reached the 90s here with high humidity.  Since we don't have air-conditioning, none of us slept well for three nights.  But the humidity left with our friend, and we are now back to a normal routine.  Fortunately for me, my studio is always cool in the summer. 

Recycled Sculpture by Elisabeth Gross Marks

Last night I went to the opening reception for Merry-Go-Round: an adventure with recycled materials, a solo show by Ithaca artist Elisabeth Gross Marks at the State of the Art Gallery .  Elisabeth uses recycled materials such as the Styrofoam used in shipping, spools, tubes, paper, wood, egg cartons, bottles--almost anything that no longer has a use to its owner in the original form.  She then transforms these items by painting them in bright colors and constructing them in enticing visual patterns.  Here is an example:

In REFLECTED MOTIONS, Elisabeth says, "wind wheels are mounted on wood that is covered with colorful papers. Mirrors reflect part of the wheels, which can be turned by the viewer. They create a kaleidoscope of color and movement."  This piece is made of wood, wheels, and paper, and is 39.5" by 32" by 4".

Here are a couple more, though I neglected to jot down the names:

I think Elisabeth's art may be perfect for our times, when we are all realizing the necessity of a "green consciousness."  She takes what would become waste, glutting our landfills, and transforms it into a beauty that is especially environmentally responsible these days.   

Some may complain that her art is not "archival" in the sense that it will last forever, but  what truly does?  None of us are archival, and our planet is threatened with its own deterioration, thanks to us.  Elisabeth's art makes us aware of this fragility at the same time it engages us with delight and beauty.

On Wednesday, June 18 at 7 pm at the gallery there will be a dance performance by Maren Waldman in conjunction with the exhibition, with a discussion by Elisabeth to follow.  Check out more work by Elisabeth on her website at www.brilliantcolorsegm.com or at the State of the Art website at SOAG.org/ .

Stretching Canvases the Hard Way

I used up all my canvases and had to wait for more stretcher bar cross-braces to arrive before I could begin to make new ones.    All my life (and I'm pretty old!) I have done this by rolling out the unprimed canvas on the floor and getting down on my hands and knees to measure, cut, staple, etc. So I have gradually come to loathe this job. Now, however, I have a brand new large-sized work-table.

Yesterday I tried stretching canvases on the table-top, and I was amazed at how easily (and without pain!) it could be done.  So I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.  I stretched several 5 feet by 5 feet and 4 feet by 4 feet canvases, and today I gessoed them.  Tomorrow I will be ready to paint.

My art business has been very slow lately, and I wonder if the housing slump is contributing to the downturn?  Or elections?  Or gas prices?  Or what?  Are people waiting for their tax rebates?

But today I did get an order for a print of Culmination, my most popular image for prints:

  Culmination

I'll keep painting whether anyone buys them or not, because that's what I do, but I'm a happier painter when sales are good.

New Abstract Paintings & Drawings on Website

Over the last week or two, I updated my website, adding my most recent group of paintings as well as 78 selected drawings from my years' worth of making a drawing a day.  The paintings can be found at New Abstract Paintings Gallery.

Here are some of the drawings I selected to put in my Abstract Drawings Gallery: 

   Abstract Pen Drawing 1

  Abstract Pen Drawing 3

  Abstract Pen Drawing 38

  Abstract Pen Drawing 27

 

Artists Helping Artists

Networking has always been the best way to get things done, but rarely worked for me in the past.  I tend to be a hermit and don't like mixing with large groups of people I don't know.  However, the internet has made it possible to network without leaving home.

It is amazing to me how helpful artists are to other artists.  When I am considering joining a new artists' website, for example, I always email the artists already on it to ask them what their experience has been like.  Most people respond within a day or two and tell me exactly what it's been like for them.  Sometimes they have other suggestions for me, too.

When an artist asks my opinion, I do the same.  We all gain a lot more by helping each other and being open than by guarding whatever information we have. 

Yesterday I was asked to join a website called Santa Fe Art World, and asked advice from several artists already on it.  The response was mixed, so I'm not sure yet whether or not I'll join, but in the process I learned about two other art websites.  One is Manhattan Arts, and it has an amazing amount of useful information for artists, including a free guide to New York City galleries.  Another website I had not heard about before was Yessy.com, an art sales/auction site that is extremely easy to use.

Not every venue will work for all of us, and just because a site has been good or bad for one artist doesn't mean it will turn out the same for another.  But there are so many ways to spend our promotional money, and most of us have a limited budget to do that, so it's always wise to get other artists' opinions before you jump into something.   

Artist's Statement

I hadn't rewritten my artist's statement in a long time.  Instead of a formal statement, I have been writing about my art in this blog.  But recently I had a visit from one of the curators at the Johnson Art Museum, and figured I'd better have an updated statement to give her.    This is what I wrote:

My work was influenced in the early 1960s by the New York school of abstract expressionists, including Jackson Pollock, Willem deKooning, Hans Hoffman, and Robert Motherwell.  What drew me to this work was its sense of improvisation, high energy, and an emphasis on the painting process.  Instead of using paint to carry out a visual idea, I was thrilled to discover the visual idea through the process of creating it.
The iconography in my work comes from a lifetime of personal and cultural experience.  As a young girl in the 1950s, I resented the limited role assigned to women, and sought to break away from it.  I emulated my three older brothers, and wanted to act in this world of men by accomplishing significant things.  I eschewed “women’s work,” and therefore didn’t learn the joy of cooking until I had left home and was forced to cook for myself.

Thus, I used strong colors and forceful gestures in my painting, avoiding any effect that might be deemed “feminine.”  I took it as a compliment when someone said to me once, “You paint like a man.”  It was only years later, as I matured, that I could embrace the delicate, the patterned, and even pastel colors in my art. 
Two signs that are integral to my work are the circle and the X.  Through the circular shapes and lines on my canvases, I embrace the feminine.  While I still prefer to wear loose clothing that does not reveal my own body’s curves, I do enjoy filling my art with circles and eggs in abundance.

As for the Xs in my paintings, sometimes making one is an act of  "crossing-out" what has come before.  Making an X is a way of saying "no" to the world.  In a way, X's are the opposite of O's, and mixing them expresses my ambivalence.  X is a primitive kind of mark that may come from the unconscious, a kind of making your mark or staking out your territory. X accumulates meanings.

There is also a physical satisfaction in making an X, especially a large one that fills up a canvas.  It feels decisive to make this strong mark.  At other times, the X is simply playful.

When I was a young girl, my grandmother spent hours trying to teach me how to make paper flowers.  She was a true artist, but I resisted this “women’s craft,” and grew bored.  My mother loved flowers, and always planted a garden of them, but I, again, resisted this path.  It was only later in life that floral and leaf designs showed up in my art.

As my personal history and culture are my life’s foundation, each layer I paint on a canvas becomes the history of its surface.  These layers accumulate and influence, yet not always overtly.  Like sediment, they build.  By mixing the acrylic paint with water and gloss medium to make a thin wash, the translucent quality of top layers reveal aspects of the painting’s history.  At other times, a thick impasto hides the past.  Yet it is there beneath the surface and has had its influence nonetheless.

California Dreamin'

We just got back from five days in California, where we celebrated a granddaughter's Batmitzvah.  It is always a tonic for my eyes to embrace California landscapes after seeing nothing but the northeast for so many months.  We managed to get to Santa Cruz for one day, driving from Los Gatos through the mountains to get to the beach. 

In Los Gatos we stopped in at the Linda Durnell Gallery where we saw some exciting abstract art. I'm sorry I didn't take notes because now I can't remember the artists' names, and the gallery website doesn't describe their current show.  If you want to check it out, however, many of their artists have work on the site: lindadurnellgallery.com.

When I got back, I had to get a giclee print on canvas ready for shipping:

   Sun Rising, 30" x 40"

Now I just need to adjust to east coast time again.

Revisiting Two Paintings

Last year I had painted two mostly green canvases, each 24" x 24".  At the time they seemed as finished as I could make them, but their images continued to haunt me.  I am not used to painting in this small size, and often have difficulty coming up with something that works for it.

Recently I got them both out and decided to have some fun with them.  Here are the originals:

Choose Life One, 24" x 24"

  Choose Life Two, 24" x 24"

Here is how they look after I revisted them:

  Choose Life One, 24" x 24"

  Choose Life Two, 24" x 24"