Monday, August 22, 2011

Why

Why do I make art? What do I want to accomplish out of Senior Seminar? What do I want to accomplish as an artist?


When I was three years old my parents came to pick me up from preschool when my teacher came up to them and showed them something I’d drawn that day. She compared my drawing to other children’s and explained that I was drawing in enormous detail for a three-year-old; I drew with perspective and included fingers (apparently fingers are a huge deal). My teacher told my parents that I was going to be artist and so for the rest of my life I identified myself as an artist. In late elementary school and all throughout middle school I skipped recess to sit in the art room or just the classroom to draw and draw. I’ve been drawing as long as I can remember because I’m good at it, and it makes me feel good to see something come together and put my thoughts on paper. My friends never hesitated to express how lucky I was to be able to take something out of my head and make a picture out of it instead of having to use words. Although I loved writing as well, I learned quickly that a picture really is worth a thousand words, and I found myself constantly volunteering my artwork for school projects both in the classroom and out. In fact, St. Timothy’s still has a mural I painted in 8th grade. I’m the only student to ever have painted something on a wall at that school, almost ten years later. Studying art in college was a no-brainer for me, especially since science and math are literally my worst subjects, and no other subject really appealed to me. In retrospect I’ve grown as an artist at CNU because I have become not only an artist, but an art historian, and I find that art history inspires me to create, and creating inspires me to study. I don’t willingly draw or paint like I used to, it’s become more methodical for me, but I hope to change that in Senior Seminar. Unfortunately, as I’ve gone through college I’ve felt a stronger connection to art history than studio art, and my strongest focus for my senior year is in my Art History Senior Seminar and in applying to grad school to study art history. Studio Art Senior Seminar will be the close to my education in the studio, which is sad, but a little relieving at the same time. I don’t feel heavy pressure anymore because it’s the last requirement I need and I feel a load coming off my shoulders more and more as I plan my project. I feel like I am fine tuning myself as an artist while also really separating myself as an artist and myself as an art historian. And while I leave one field of study behind, I intend to use Senior Seminar as source of closure. The artist inside will not die, but through Senior Seminar I want to make studio art fun again so that should grad school overwhelm me, I can fall back on something comfortable and familiar to me. And I hope to ultimately use my education as an artist to support my opinion as an art historian and fortify me as a scholar.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

The feather that started it all....

Without further adieu, the feather that I discovered in Costa Rica from a street artist named Guillermo - my original inspiration. So simple, but so cool as an idea. This is going up in my kitchen as soon as I move back to NPN tomorrow! Just thought I'd post it for the whole wide world to see!


Polly Apfelbaum

Polly Apfelbaum’s work is proof that no matter how strange or uncommon or unconventional one’s inspiration for concept may be, the artwork speaks for itself. The translation of concept and theory into a solid piece of artwork is everything to an artist for the piece to be successful, and everything for the viewer to have the ability to make any sort of sense of the painting. While Apfelbaum’s inspiration may be obvious to him in terms of translation into her artwork, the viewer would have no idea what he or she was actually looking at without reading the artist statement. Her inspiration comes from the old Cartoon Network TV Show, the Powderpuff Girls. One would never realize this just by looking at her artwork, which is mandala-like installations, one of which is housed by the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, titled Blossom.

Deep. The pink one is Blossom.

Blossom is named after one of the three Powderpuff girls, the red-headed leader who is constantly wearing pink and is the “sugar” out of “sugar, spice and everything nice.” Like Apfelbaum’s other pieces, it resembles a mandala and is displayed on the floor. The piece is colorful and elaborate, comprised of hundreds of pieces of hand-dyed velvet that start out in a color-coded pattern and begin to randomize as the rings grow. The strategy of color keeps the viewer’s eye moving around the piece, constantly observing how the color placement affects the hues, tints and tones of each color from one to the next. Blossom is part of Apfelbaum’s “fallen pieces” series, which reflects superheroes and their personas, the name coming from the nature of the pieces in relation to the ground.

Blossom (the art piece. big difference!)

Apfelbaum draws me in as an artist for two strong reasons. First, the fact that her piece is comprised of color, and is completely dependent on color both visually and conceptually. Every group of three pieces of velvet provides a different combination of color and a different effect on the eye. Second, that she draws inspiration from something so bizarre, but commits to it as an artist and sells the concept through her artwork. Although she draws ideas from something that is literally childish and commercial, he translates it into something deeper and more moving, and she uses color to execute it.



Polly Apfelbaum. The Museum of Modern Art. 2010. Web. 16 August 2011. <http://www.moma.org/collection/browse_results.php?criteria=O%3ADE%3AI%3A5%7CG%3AHI%3AE%3A1&page_number=41&template_id=1&sort_order=2>. 

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Color in the Sky


Color, color, color, color, COLOR! This piece is quick, it's spontaneous, and it's not something you'd actually see in the sky. But it's not senseless. And the color in the sky and in the terrain in the foreground sort of halos the mountains in the background, making them the focus of the painting, despite the monotone blue and stylistic differences. It's like two different paintings put into one. It's almost heavenly. 
I love the clever framing that the artist experimented with in this painting. He/she essentially framed a painting within a painting.

Symbolism

I appreciate artwork with a little bit of symbolism. Especially in still life. Everything the artist selects to include is meticulous and carefully chosen - from the flowers, to musical instruments, to birds. Not to mention color. And while too much symbolism and iconography can lead to an allegory painting that absolutely no one understands, like, say, Boticelli's Primavera, or Allegory of Love.

what????

Yes that's a a green guy coming out of a tree and grabbing a terrified looking chick. It's supposed to be wind raping a nymph. Even with the explanation, it still doesn't make sense. Allegorical paintings are like symbolism on steroids. And they're so jacked up they only make sense to the people they're painted for. That's right, sometimes even the painters had no idea what they were painting.
So, clearly, even great artists can over symbolize their point. And suddenly they have something ridiculous. It's gotta be minimal, and effective. And most importantly, the viewer has to have some kind of idea of what is going on, and at least what is symbolically significant, if not aware of what the symbology represents. 

much better!

Simple, but effective. I was originally drawn to this piece because of its COLOR and TEXTURE. Two things that are really important not to mention striking to me as an artist and scholar of art (what up double major!) and then I started looking around at what's in the painting. You've got a clarinet, a stork, and a hippy woman. Could she be pregnant? Or is it a coincidence in the style of her dress? Well then we have the fact that her gaze is looking downward toward her stomach. Of course, I stumbled on the image alone, no artist name, no title, no nothing. So I can't really research what the significance of the clarinet is. But, hey, it's pretty tropical in setting and in color, and the symbology is successful in leading the viewer's eyes throughout the painting.




Silvia Pelissaro

I'm such a fan of Watercolour. It is, in my opinion, one of the most unique mediums. And it truly shows an artist's ability in how it's handled. I admire watercolourists, especially those who know what they're doing and know how to manipulate the paint.
Silvia Pelissaro is a pretty talented watercolourist. And forgive me for being short, brcause I am now blogging on my iPhone while I'm on my break at work... But her use of color is bright and bold and shows careful placement, as not to create ugly washes where contrasting hues blend.
Her pieces are smoothly blended, washy, and color blocked cleverly. Her brushstrokes are quick but meaningful, and she includes a lot of detail in specific parts of the painting, like the lips and in the pupils.


Monday, August 15, 2011

Charles L. Peterson

I HAD to blog about this. Literally could not help myself. Charles L. Peterson is a [talented] watercolour artist whose concept is pretty familiar to me... probably because it's my original concept that I was going to go with for my Senior Sem. WOAH what a coincidence right?!!?! That's what I thought. He paints scenes that discreetly have ghosts of memories sort of hidden in them. And once you see them you can't unsee them. IT'S THE EXACT SAME IDEA I HAD BACK IN APRIL! Talk about small world. Looking through his work is really cool for me because in an essence it allows me to see what my work would have looked similar to outside of my head.

...his images are copyrighted pretty tight.

But I can ramble! So blah blah blah, I had this idea sort of pop into my head in Computer Art with Sir Skees and I really enjoyed working on it and developing my concept. Not to mention the idea got me looking at Tom Chambers, and he's only one of my all time favorite artists ever ever ever. I decided... at the time... that I would base my Senior Sem off of a similar concept, and I was mainly inspired by how thoroughly creepy the Ferguson Center's abandoned shell of a high school STILL stands at CNU and how when I was studying for Northern Renaissance art with my study group in the Painting Studio we started to discuss the likelihood of the Ferg being haunted... and what can I say, I'm drawn to the creepy, no matter how happy and perky I try my very best to come off as. Seeing Peterson's work sort of makes me realize I really am still drawn to this idea/concept. And it's actually the idea I had started working on sketches and paintings for at the beginning of the summer BEFORE I traveled to the Caribbean on a Carnival Cruise and my life changed forever (I don't think that's even possible to find yourself on a Carnival Cruise Line but whatever, I did and I find it hilarious). I want to incorporate this in with my project. Someway SOMEHOW. And time is running out. So needless to say, I still may be pretty scattered when we come back to school. And my art could most likely use some fine tuning. And I'm a hot mess ALL THE TIME. But I feel like the ghosts of my past are ultimately playing a pivotal role in my artwork/concept and they deserve to peek-a-boo in my art. If I end up being really creepy, my apologies in advance.

BUT HEY, you can click on Peterson's name and take a look on how he gets his creep on. Great minds think alike my man.