I stare constantly at the trees outside, grey branches woven and netted — and finally I bring them into the house with paint, using the brief light while it’s here.
This photo was edited to put light on my painting.
Happy Solstice!
Category Archives: Art
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Also posted in 2009 blog posts Tagged happy solstice, oil painting, paintings, paintings of forest, solstice painting 2 Comments
Exquisite Corpse animation
This video was assembled by the New Zealand animation house Cirkus, and it’s actually a quilted-together work of a number of animators and writers. The phrase “exquisite corpse” refers to a kind of artwork where many people collaborate, improvising together, each person taking up the tale where the last one left off. (Here’s a group of exquisite corpse drawings done together by famous surrealist artists. I used to do a variation of this with my two daughters when they were little, and we used to call it the Doodle Game. More about that on a different day.)
Here’s a brief explanation of the phrase “exquisite corpse”, quoted from a book called Dada and Surrealist Art, by William S. Rubin:
Among Surrealist techniques exploiting the mystique of accident was a kind of collective collage of words or images called the cadavre exquis (exquisite corpse). Based on an old parlor game, it was played by several people, each of whom would write a phrase on a sheet of paper, fold the paper to conceal part of it, and pass it on to the next player for his contribution.
The technique got its name from results obtained in initial playing, “Le cadavre / exquis / boira / le vin / nouveau” (The exquisite corpse will drink the young wine). Other examples are: “The dormitory of friable little girls puts the odious box right” and “The Senegal oyster will eat the tricolor bread.” These poetic fragments were felt to reveal what Nicolas Calas characterized as the “unconscious reality in the personality of the group” resulting from a process of what Ernst called “mental contagion.”
This playful concept is combined here with animation, which is one of the freshest art forms going right now. Animation work posted online allows an original piece of artwork to be distributed free to an unlimited audience. Because of the internet, all of a sudden art doesn’t have to pass muster with the gatekeepers. It doesn’t have to be represented by a gallery in order to find a following, but instead the intimate relationship between artist and audience which existed for thousands of years is recaptured.
There are some animators out there doing serious art, if a form so lighthearted can be called serious. Animation is fully as serious as oil painting, and maybe more able to express the real human condition. There’s just something about movement which captures the fragmented, momentary quality of actual life.
In the video posted above, apparently seven writers each contributed a chunk of the story, and the animators at Cirkus brought the story alive. I’m truly thrilled by the creative vitality which is nurtured by the internet.
Dotty
Yayoi Kusama's infinity mirror room installation
I’ve just discovered Yayoi Kusama, born in 1929 and still producing important work at the age of 80. Plagued all her life by hallucinations and mental illness, living by choice in a mental hospital… and yet last year, one of her works was sold by Christie’s for over 5 million dollars — a record for a living female artist. And three years ago, she became the first Japanese woman to receive the Praemium Imperiale, one of Japan’s most prestigious prizes for internationally recognized artists. These facts are from the lovely Wikipedia entry about her, but if you want to truly get a feel for this artist, watch this video:
I’m enthralled; to be able to express one’s vision with such single-minded profusion! Passion, carried out so masterfully in spite of the fact that she was fragilely perched at the edge of consensus reality. I found out about her on this interesting art blog..
Also posted in 2009 blog posts Tagged art mental health, beat generation artists, dot art, dots, Japanese artists, obsession, older artists, yayoi kusama 2 Comments
Painting out on the cold beach
The painting is about one-quarter complete.
I think it’ll take about four painting sessions to finish the piece. It’s small, only about 5 inches by 7 inches, but it’s so cold outside that I can’t work long enough in any one session to cover very much canvas.
I’m starting to feel strongly about NOT using a camera to get between me and what I paint, even if it’s hard to work outdoors during this time of year. As much as I love my new camera, it seems crucial to recognize when not to use it. When I paint from photos, the painting doesn’t have a life of its own. It’s certainly easier to paint from a still image that doesn’t move around, working in a warm room, but I’m determined not to let myself backslide into that.
I’m about one-fifth of the way into a portrait of a nine-year-old neighbor as well. That’s a different kind of challenge: I can work indoors, but I have to interact with my subject to keep her comfortable and help her learn to sit still. I won’t post that work here, or at least not unless her parents feel fine about my doing so.
Also posted in 2009 blog posts Tagged beach scene painting, oil painting, oil painting steps, seascape Leave a comment
Sunshine afternoon, owl evening
I think this painting is finished now. It had more detail before; I did a white wash over the trees because they seemed too bright on the canvas, and now I’m not sure I like the outcome. Ah, well. It’s just a little snapshot, via paintbrush, of a chunk of our wintry yard. Just to be doing this, churning through practice paintings one after another, makes me feel like the day’s been worthwhile.
I went out at noontime to the beach nearby, to continue work on the little painting I started there a few weeks ago, but the tide was too high for me to get down the path. Here’s a photo I took from the meadow up above the beach (with my shadow in the middle of it, because the sun was so low):
But I wanted to paint, because the sun was out, and so I did a quick beginning oil sketch of the cove from where I stood in the field above. I’ll either use this as a reference point or a beginning point for a future painting.
I worked fast, stopping when my fingers got too cold to work anymore. (While I painted, I was wearing: cotton turtleneck and jeans, corduroy over-shirt, lightweight wool pullover sweater, fleece vest, heavy insulated sweatshirt, and fleece hood/face mask. It made me feel slightly muffled away from the world I was trying to depict.)
Now it’s evening and the barred owls are calling. A crescent moon hangs like an ornament in the bare branches of the alders close to the house. Tomorrow Bob comes home from the city, bearing cargo so that the two of us can make a holiday together. We’re separated from the kids by schedules and airfares, but we have friends close by. And of course cats and chickens.
But tonight is my last solitary night. I love being alone, the cozy aloneness when your mate is due back soon and all is well. The pure silence of the house, the snap of the fire in the woodstove, (and the chocolate melting in the pan on top of it). I’m so glad for this beginning of the new solar year.