Blog
#200. Dear friends…On February 27, 2013 I posted my first article on this blog. I was hesitant and, at the same time, brave. I just dove in, not knowing if I would sink or swim. I didn’t know exactly what I would write, but I did have some parameters to guide me. With few exceptions, I kept those parameters in mind.
My target audience has been two overlapping communities…artists and art lovers. My intention has been to write thoughtful, fun, informative articles. I also wanted to inspire myself and learn more about art. Throughout, I have done my best to dig deep, insure authenticity, and write creatively. And, finally, I have tried hard to honor the strict boundaries that I had erected…no advice, politics, or misrepresentation. Looking back, I think I have not strayed too far.
And looking back, I see that my posts mainly focused on processes, patterns, and experiences related to art. I shared my own processes and those of others. Many of my articles are structured around comparisons, contrasts, parallels, or sequences. I seem to gain and share understanding by examining these connections. My art experiences have also played a significant role in the content of my articles. I have written about exhibits, conversations, books, articles, and films. I have shared my own art successes, doubts, and failures.
Now, looking forward. I don’t know exactly what more I can write. So I will bid you adieu. And thank you. Warm Wishes….Jacki
I’m hanging in there. Literally and figuratively. I will be hanging figurative paintings in a gallery exhibit April 2-28. After seeing a February article in ArtNews, I am especially encouraged. The headline is Christie’s Mounts Figuration-Focused Exhibition In Move to Expand Private Sales. The article continues…”the curated selection is focused on the market-favored mode of figuration.”
You may have seen a few of my recent figurative paintings on social media. The expanded body of work continues to express my desire to return to normalcy in the foreseeable future. Dare I cross the line between hope and optimism? Like you, I have recalled our previous life as I envision a future when we can again meet, gather, and congregate. I referred to my own photos from the past, painted during the pandemic, and transformed the images into paintings of joy. The one exception is a piece that I painted before the pandemic. It is a celebration of my friends eating and drinking at our house. I think that is what I most look forward to.
For now, I look forward to showing my work at All Out. I will frequent the gallery with the hope that, even with six feet of separation, we can be together. Contact me and I’ll be there.
Studio C
260 W. Bonita
Claremont CA 91711
Tuesday-Saturday 10am-6pm
Studio C is a local art gallery and working studio located in beautiful Claremont, California. Our main focus is to provide local artists, specifically artists from Claremont and adjacent areas in South California, a gallery to feature their art.
Stuff. After many years, we have finally emptied our storage unit…my deceased parents’ remaining things and some of my artwork. After removing furniture and sifting through papers, I confronted my old artwork.
I found a few pieces that I painted while in high school…a drawing of Kennedy, a painting done at the Los Angeles County Arboretum, and a plein aire painting from a rustic park in Pasadena. Vague memories. I also found the paintings that I wrote about on December 17, 2013: “When I was in high school I painted a still life with a bowl of apples and candlesticks on a table draped with a cloth. My parents presumably liked the painting since it was framed and hung in the house. Years later, when I was a young adult, my father commented that the candlesticks did not quite sit on the table but, rather, were just slightly floating. I offered to do another painting. In the corrected painting, I unabashedly launched a "Chagall" candelabra into space.” Not a serious painting.
It took me more than forty years to paint seriously. So, the remainder of the paintings that were in storage were relatively recent…since 2007. There are experiments, failures, and many paintings that still speak to me. You can view the more successful paintings on my website…or by appointment.
I did dig up one artifact from The Hiatus Period. That was the time when I did a lot life drawing. This is a framed drawing, which was made in 2003. I like this one. So…I am sharing...wrinkles and all.
Free time. Since the lockdown, we have all had to reorganize our lives. Parenting, working, learning, running a business, and staying safe have impacted the lives of many. There is little free time for those who have had to juggle their responsibilities. However, the idle rich, retired, unemployed, homeless, underemployed; have had to consider how to fill unclaimed hours. Yes, that’s many of you…and me.
My husband once said that women like projects. Although I wasn’t about to argue the veracity of this generalization, I had to admit that it is true of me. During these past ten months, it has been truer than ever. My projects start with a thought or an object…a book to be read, an idea to follow up, a blank canvas to paint, a recipe to prepare, a puzzle to solve, a deadline to meet. A project is a noun. When I paint, I don’t approach my easel because I feel like painting. I begin my painting because I have a subject, a canvas, and supplies. This project, like my other projects, has a tangible result. A noun. And, when completed I feel a sense of accomplishment.
Yet some folks thrive on activities, rather than projects. They feel like doing something. They have the urge to move, to learn, or to engage. They want to walk and talk, bike and hike. They’re verb people. I believe that activities bring them a sense of well being. Having said this, I think that the activity approach applies to more evolved people than me.
If you have the urge to comment, you’re an activity person. If you see commenting as an opportunity or obligation, you’re a project person. Either way…weigh in! It’s free and you have time.
Fundamentals. I overheard a conversation among some women who had ballet experience. One indicated that her granddaughter was taking ballet lessons at a good school which emphasized the traditional fundamentals. Another person indicated that even Nureyev (or Baryshnikov?) still practiced at the barre. Clearly, I am not schooled in ballet, having completed my training at age six. However, without understanding the specifics, I did intuitively understand the significance.
It is said that drawing is a necessary fundamental skill for successful painting. Of course it makes sense that a creative artist can accomplish her goals in any manner. But, traditionally, drawing is taught before painting. I do think that the ability to draw is helpful for a painter to competently execute an objective, realistic painting. I personally drew for many years before I painted. In fact, when I began to seriously paint in 2007, I no longer wanted to take up my precious art time with drawing.
So, I have been painting on and off since. However recently I have noticed that sometimes my proportions are off in my portraits. In my most recent painting of figures, I had to make major corrections late in the process. In both cases, my brush drawings were not carefully executed. So, I will, again, spend some time drawing in order to regain my skill.
Drawing requires looking. Really looking. Some drawers use visual measurements, others rely on standard proportions, and others focus on the relationship of one element to another. In short figure poses, one learns to quickly utilize these concepts to achieve accuracy and gesture.. In long figure poses, the artist incorporates technique. The same can be said in drawing objects…one first strives for accuracy, then aesthetics.
It has been said that painting is like drawing. I have never believed that. Just as a stretch is not a dance, a sketch is not a painting. But both practices are essential.
Style. Noun. A way of painting, writing, composing, building, etc., characteristic of a particular period, place, person, or movement.
I started thinking about style after conversations with two artists. First was an email back and forth. An artist friend requested feedback about one of his pieces. He wrote, “Thanks for your honest opinion. I keep trying to push my style further all the time.” The second exchange took place during a break at a portrait painting session. A fellow painter told me he can always recognize my style. I told him that I can’t paint any other way. I am not trying to change my style, just trying to do it better. He said that was also true of him.
The truth is that whenever I have taken a workshop, I came out painting the way I always did, only better. I learned strategies, best practices, and approaches that improved my painting. But I never have been able to paint like the instructor. Perhaps I am a poor student and/or resistant.
My conversations and personal experiences have convinced me that although style is influenced by exposure, experimentation, and experience; it is also the function of something ingrained. I am thinking spirit, soul, signature. And, just recently I saw a quote that validated and better articulated my thoughts:
Every art expression is rooted fundamentally in the personality and temperament of the artist…Hans Hofmann
I wish I was the one who said this: “Picasso changed his style…from Blue to Picasso.” The artist eventually discovered his true artistic self. His style.
* I humbly admit that each of my musings contains at least one missing piece. I leave it to you to fill it in. Comments please!
Random Reads. I guess this activity is much like being an armchair traveler. Below are some articles that came to me. I did not go to them.
In The Wall Street Journal’s January 14 article, Young Artists Rising During the Pandemic, the columnist noted that unlike in past downturns, the work of emerging artists was in high demand. Apparently, collectors were more speculative during this pandemic. Rather than finding safety in the multimillion dollar heavyweight artists like Giacometti and Picasso, the trend was to pursue artists under 40.
2020 was the first year since 2016 that no art topped 100 million dollars. The Most Expensive Artworks Sold in 2020 reveals that the top piece only fetched 84+ million dollars. It was a Triptych by Francis Bacon. If I had an extra 40+ million lying around. I might have bid on the Roy Lichtenstein’s Nude with Joyous Painting or David Hockney’s Nichols Canyon.
And, speaking of David Hockney… “With the possible exception of Howard Hodgkin, not a single English abstract artist has attained anything comparable to the status achieved by Lucian Freud or David Hockney.” The headline of the article in Hyperallergic is: Some Thoughts About England’s Obsession With Portraits. The author’s observation is that British postwar painting is about portraiture. Apparently, this attachment was never effectively challenged. I wish the author had offered some explanations or thoughts as to why this is so. I do know that when I watch The Crown, Downton Abbey, or a Churchill biopic, the idle rich paint en plein aire. Perhaps landscape painting is traditionally an activity assigned to dilettantes and hobbyists in Britain. That’s my own unfounded theory, which does not explain the Britain’s dearth of high end abstract painters. Oh well.
And, speaking of Lucian Freud…The Books section of the January 16 The Wall Street Journal reviews a new biography. The book, by William Feaver, is titled The Lives of Lucian Freud: Fame, 1968-2011. In spite of his chaotic, spiteful, and unconventional behavior, Freud “…matured into one of the 20th century’s essential portraitists.” His friend, Frank Auerbach, believed that his disciplined art practice was a counterbalance to his life. Furthermore, his final years were calmed by maturity and his true love of painting.
Well…that’s the news of the world!
The New Year. Why is this New Year’s Day different from all other New Year’s Days? On all others, we wake up with headaches. On all others, we recline and watch the parade or football with friends and eat lots of dip.
Instead of a hangover remedy, this January First I am taking in a dose of reality. After a year of zoom and doom, we are especially hoping for a “Happy New Year.” But, in spite of our longing, this year the traditional greeting somehow seems flippant. The calendar will not magically change things. And this year the customary New Year’s message, that is filled with resolution and determination, is a bit out of place. Although, one can still resolve to lose weight, stop smoking, or adopt a dog; self-promises can now easily become the focus of one’s life rather than an accessory to a busy life.
This year, even a message of hope is not persuasive. Is there a chance that folks will recover their jobs, return to school, rescue their businesses, or get well? Dare I hope to entertain my friends? Meet with my book club? Go to plays and movies? Dine out? Browse? Attend art openings? Paint with others? Paint portraits? It’s hard to voice these questions. Perhaps it is prudent to be restrained, much like withholding the truth in order not to hurt someone’s feelings. Lock it in.
I am thinking that our hope lies entirely in us...the things we can change and own. We can improve our skills and knowledge ... make art, read, play music, etc. We can become better people...more thoughtful, more resilient, more understanding. And if, by chance, the world does open up during the coming year, my greatest hope is that better people will emerge.
A Comparison. I just read the very short memoir, Self Portrait, by Celia Paul. And I also saw the film Queen of Hearts, a documentary about Audrey Flack. Each artist is living. Celia Paul is an English poet and painter, born in 1959. Audrey Flack is an American painter and sculptor, born in 1931. Both the book and film are in the artist’s voice. I realized that these two successful women artists lived very different lives. Aside from both having formal art training and having lead an artist’s life, there are few similarities. In fact, their stories appear to be a study of contrasts. I had hoped that some common aspect of their lives would provide a clue to their success. And, optimistically, by extension, I would learn the secret to achieving genuine artist status.
Celia Paul had three significant attachments that essentially circumscribed her early life as an artist. Her mother, whom she adored, was her most frequent and favorite model. Her mother devoted days and hours to sitting for Celia. When Celia’s mother wasn’t posing, she served as the care giver of Celia’s son so that Celia could paint without distraction. When she painted, nothing interfered. When Celia spent time with her son, Frank, she would not paint. Nothing interfered with Frank. Meanwhile, for ten years her world was overshadowed by the painter Lucien Freud. He seduced her, mentored her, painted her, and dominated her. In other words, she gave in to him, waited for him, learned from him, posed for him, and was guided by him. Like Lucien, Celia mainly painted people and places she knew. After she separated from Freud, Celia married a man who respected her privacy and gave her the freedom to paint without distraction by living apart from her.
The film about Audrey Flack revealed a woman who welcomed people and influences into her life. She had great respect for other artists and was comfortable exploring her artistic self. She expressed enthusiasm for abstract impressionism, religious iconography, comic book art, and figurative art. Audrey ultimately became a photo realist, master drawer, and figurative sculptor. She defined herself as a feminist who made art rather than as a feminist artist. She was political, concerned, but not strident. Perhaps her views were born in response to her mother. Her mother had not supported her decision to go to art school because she believed that too much education would ruin a girl’s chance for marriage. However, after attending art school, Flack married, divorced and later married her high school boyfriend. During her career as a teacher and artist, she was a devoted mother to her two daughters, one of whom required special attention.
The differences are astounding. Celia’s mother, as a model and as Frank’s nanny, sacrificed much of her life to Celia’s acute need to focus on painting. On the other hand, Audrey was discouraged by her mother. Celia’s personal relationship with Lucien was obsessive and unequal. Her current relationship is also unequal, tilting in her direction. Audrey’s long-lasting second marriage is one of sharing and family. Celia was unable to simultaneously balance work and motherhood. Audrey worked while nurturing her children. Celia’s art was an intense examination of the familiar, while Audrey engaged in a world of exposure and broad ideas.
Needless to say, there were no apparent commonalities in lifestyle, art style, or temperament. However, I felt that something crucial was either overlooked, hidden, or left out of their narratives. Something important. I decided to consider what was not revealed. It finally dawned on me…neither artist ever expressed self doubt. It was so clear to each of them that they could make art. Confidence was an assumption that neither Celia Paul nor Audrey Flack felt the need to voice.
A Painting. Well…As you can see, I finally got busy. You may recall that I selected three photos that were painting references. I picked one that I took in Dublin because I liked the grouping of people and the light at the end of the road. Or, perhaps my choice was a suppressed hope for escape.
My guiding principal when using photo references was best stated by Edgar Degas: “Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” Unexciting photos can be the source of good paintings. As I painted, I was back in the zone…no other thoughts, squishy paint, fun decisions, and surprises. I am pleased with the results.
All that is left are a signature and a wire. The painting is in the same format and style and subject as those in my my most recent series, which was exhibited in a duo show last year. This painting is 16x16 inches on a one and a half inch cradled panel. Framing is optional as the gallery edges are lovely smooth wood. Comparable paintings are priced at $500-$650, as you can see here on my website.
Happy Out
A Call for Auction. A Donation. Why am I telling you all this? No, it is not too much information. The reason is that this season I want two things…for one of you to acquire this painting and for me to donate money to the Claremont Museum of Art. With your participation, an auction will make this possible.
Let’s make it simple. I do not want to be on duty monitoring and displaying the ever-changing competitive bids. Furthermore, not everybody uses Facebook, So, I have decided on a blind auction format. Make one offer only via email. The person with the highest offer wins. Email me if you would like to see the actual painting before bidding. After the deadline, I will let all players know the outcome. (If there’s a tie, I will reopen to all participants with a new minimum bid and a new deadline.)
RULES
Submit ONE Email
Subject: My Best Offer
Body: Name and $ Offer
Minimum Offer
$200
Deadline
9pm PST Saturday December 12.
I WILL DONATE ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE WINNING BID TO THE CLAREMONT MUSEUM OF ART.
