Saturday, March 5, 2011

The List, Installment 8: Painting in 3D

I've been hoarding names again! After multiple weeks of studio visits and general conversations, I've accumulated a new and exciting list of artists who engage three-dimensional space/ painting issues. Let's just work our way through it, shall we?

Elliot Hundley:
Installation View: Andrea Rosen Gallery, 2007

Installation View: Regen Projects, LA, 2009

A Cairn at Cynossema, 2009

Lure, 2004

A Clearing IV, 2009

Rose, 2008

Installation View: UCLA Hammer Museum, 2006

UCLA Hammer Museum

Hyacinth, 2006

Judy Pfaff:
Studio View of Buckets of Rain, 2006

Moxibustion at the Garden of Sculptural Delights, Exit Art, 1994


...all of the above at Ameringer/ Yohe Fine Art, NY, 2007

...all of the above

Wild Rose at Esther Massry Gallery, College of St. Rose, Albany, NY, 2008

Wild Rose

Wild Rose

BONUS: she has an Art21:

Frank Stella:
Deipholz II, 1982

Haciar Aceramica, 2001

The Perplexed Magistrate, 1999

Severinda, 1995

Talladega, 1980

The Pequod Meets the Bachelor, 1988

Proof that sometimes, Minimalism just doesn't cut it. I just ordered the catalog from the "Painting into Architecture" show at the Met, which featured pretty much all of these pieces, in addition to large-scale metal sculptures (which are also awesome)

Elizabeth Murray:

BONUS: Art21:

Friday, March 4, 2011

Fancy Photos

Here are the new images with lighting that allows for dynamic shadows. They're really important:

I also added another piece to this one

Hooray for shadows! More to come...

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Feedback All Over the Place

So, I haven't posted in a little while because I'm busy working on an 8x10' drawing/ collage and it's been kind of intense. I do have some fancier images of the sculptural paper pieces I discussed last time, so I'll be sure to post those soon. In the meantime, I've had about 4 studio visits within the last week, which means there's a lot swirling around in my head right now that I need to parcel out. I'm going to post brief summaries of what each person advised me, just so that I have a clear, definitive sense of what's been put out there.

First I requested a visit with JL, because I knew he'd interrogate what I'm doing. I wasn't disappointed. As I predicted, he had a problem with the fact that one of the first things you notice is the labor involved in making them--he feels it's problematic because it sort of inhibits a deeper reading of the pieces. He suggested that I consider incorporating a sort of obstacle to the reading of the pieces, or a counterbalance to the pristine-ness of them: this could involve an element of chance (showing a piece of ripped paper; broken wood to interrupt the precisely arranged thing), or a totally new and different method (what if the paper I start out with already has an image on it? That could make the cuts respond to something, and would involve a whole new set of formal choices--which images to include, how to coordinate them, etc.). He said that I clearly have an expertise for formal relationships and color, and he likes the three-dimensional aspect they're taking on, but he'd like to see an obstacle thrown in that you'd have to deal with. The tagline for this visit was "make yourself stutter"

I met with SL the same afternoon. She was generally enthused by the amount of momentum I had going. She praised the fact that I was clearly really concerned with honing the craft of building them--that I had discipline and focus about them. She said that although they are small in size, they still struck her as monumental in scale. She suggested I look at Japanese textile patterns, as well as Stella's later work. She also advised me to not let anyone make me feel like I have to be making paintings; if this is what is driving me, I should pursue it

PK finally came to see the new pieces last night. He knows me more from my art history perspective, so the main reaction he had was that there seems to be a gap between the things that I'm passionate about in contemporary art/ society and what these pieces are saying. He likes both (the things I say/ write about, and the cut paper pieces), but asserted that I'm more interesting than floaty organic abstractions. He felt they lack some of the volume/ force/ opinionated nature that I otherwise present to the world. I showed him a list of words that I keep to remind myself of the feeling I want the pieces to have, and he felt like the words/ verbs suggest something far beyond what the pieces are suggesting; that the concerns I otherwise express in full sentences suggest something far beyond what the pieces are suggesting. He assured me that it's kind of a cliched young artist problem--trying to figure out what you want to say/ how to say it (he said if I'm having trouble finding my voice/ figuring out what it would mean to work for me, I should look to the people that inspire me and work for them). But also, the work is clearly transforming and taking me somewhere, which is a good thing--the cuts in these new ones are already so much more imaginative/ inventive than those in the earlier pieces; there's more complexity in the layering. It might even be fine if my words and my work don't necessarily relate very directly right now. It's up to me to figure it out--I don't have to prove anything to anyone; I'm going to pursue this regardless, and that's what counts. (PK also brought up Stella's later work--guess I need to take a closer look at that, huh?...maybe a new installment of The List is in order...)

I talked to GC today, and he urged me to just let the work tell me what it needs. In the end, it just comes down to me and my work, and it's up to me to figure out what works and what doesn't. He'd be cautious about imposing anything onto the work (an idea; language--"Don't be a gymnast"); he feels the work/ the world I'm creating is already presenting so much for me to react to. The real question is, do I really think they're as magnificent as they can be? And if not, what could I do to get them to that point? He's really excited that I'm taking things up in scale with the large drawing, would encourage me to keep trying things out like that in order to discover/ embrace/ pursue what the work is capable of. The work will tell you what it needs, will take you to the place you need to be; it's just a matter of experimenting/ transforming things to get there. Testing out new ways of getting back to painting is a part of that. He mentioned several painters who break away from the rectangle/ square, and essentially suggested that there are so many options as far as materials and formal manipulation that it's just not fair to myself to completely avoid painting altogether--which I'm clearly not doing because the issues I'm having are primarily painting issues. He also advised me not to marginalize formal concerns--that formal issues are integrally important, and are frequently only found in great works of art; never in poor works of art.

So, I clearly have a lot to think about/ deal with, which really isn't any sort of departure from my usual mindset. Honestly, I like getting a lot of feedback from a lot of different sources because usually all it really does is solidify the ideas, thoughts, concerns, anxieties that I've already been having about the work. Usually, I end up with a lot of potential ideas to consider, and that can be overwhelming, but I know that ultimately I can either pursue those ideas or not (and if I choose to pursue them, they'll either work or not). Anyway, I think it's always valuable to hear how the work is working for people other than myself (especially if those people are people I respect and admire/ people whom I feel know me fairly well). And now I need to take some alone time, possibly a nap or food break--sleep and food can always be counted upon to improve everything.