Fragmento
I have a thing for reusing materials, as well as older work to build upon for new explorations. In the midst of making new paintings for "All Of This Is True” at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery, I discovered that one of the diy folders that I made to store some older 38 x 50 inch works on paper had fallen apart. Some of the works inside slid down and “S” curved, damaging the paper. I wasn’t particularly worried about preserving the works or even showing them, but I saw an opportunity to do something potentially interesting with them.
At first, I thought just painting over the original image with a new one was the way to go, but of more interest was allowing parts of the original image to not only be a foundation, but also integrating old and new marks and images. Taking it a step further what about introducing torn, uneven edges into the image? Allowing the base image to be broken up and letting the new forms be cradled within the paper’s torn, uneven edges. Much more exciting than just making another “regular” drawing/painting on paper.
Tearing down the larger papers was liberating, just as much as painting over an old canvas painting or sanding out a painting on wood panel. Bringing the old work into the new releases the original work of it’s meaning and helps birth something new. Which, in this case, is the Fragmento works. “Fragmento” is Portuguese for fragment and maybe the plural is Fragmenti? I’ll have to look that up. Fragmento felt like the perfect title for these works for the way they may resemble portions of walls or wallpaper transported from random old abandoned buildings or homes to the gallery wall.
I included them in “All Of This Is True” because I wanted a place of “rest” in the show, where the viewer has a place to slow down a bit from taking in all of the energy from works in the main areas of the gallery.
“All Of This Is True” is on view at the Bridgette Mayer Gallery (Philadelphia, PA) until May 18, 2024. Gallery hours: Tuesday-Saturday, 10am-5pm
Reality check
On April 18th, I was one of four artists in my studio building to host a group of high school students from the Shipley School, a private Quaker school based in Bryn Mawr, a suburb of Philadelphia. In 2022, I had a solo show in the school’s Speer Gallery where I exhibited several paintings and a site-specific mixed media work called Tumbler.
The group of 40 were split up into three groups that rotated through the studios. I had about 20 minutes to speak to each group, so I had to have my educational “elevator talk” pretty trim. I focused mainly on a bit of my history and art processes, keeping everything simple but “nutritional” as possible. It’s always interesting to move between audiences when talking about my work and I think I’m getting better every time I do it. Elementary school kids, high school students, college art students, collectors and general adult audiences are each different in the types of information and detail I need to convey.
Talking about one’s work is a challenge for a lot of artists for a lot of reasons. My thoughts about it are that artists at all levels and temperaments need to be able to speak and write about the work that they make. Sure, the work should speak for itself on some level, but the artist can bring a deeper understanding to the world about their work without giving away everything. That’s the key. Absolutists who say that art loses its mystery when something is explained about it are missing the point. By understanding how to communicate with audiences, you deepen those audience’s connection with your work and art, in general.
Social media: not the end all, be all
“Younger artists are coming of age in an era of continual online scrutiny and the unrelenting grind of social media. The pace and demands of social media are anti-human. Art, at its most ideal, is a slow gathering of distilled information given form over a lifetime.
Pace yourself. Keep a private studio journal for your thoughts. Everything doesn’t have to be filmed and posted online for validation and consumption by others. Cultivate a portion of your creative life just for you alone.”
I posted the above on Threads a couple of days ago in the middle of a night of insomnia. I don’t remember exactly what I saw that prompted it, but it was definitely related to young artists and the pressures, real and imagined, surrounding social media and creative endeavors. In a nutshell, younger artists of all stripes are feeling hard-pressed to make sure they have large engagement numbers from ‘likes’ and follower counts. Older artists are feeling similarly, but it’s the young artists that I see having to navigate an already opaque art world while feeling like they must keep up with social media trends and hacks to get more people connected with their practices.
As we know, social media can help us gain a following to a certain point. After that, your posts are relegated to be seen by less than 10% of your total following by algorithms working to ensure that the owners of the platforms are getting their share of profits. This means pushing you to take out ads and spend money in other ways. They are betting that you’ll get tired of not having your work seen far and wide and pony up money for a “boost”.
Social media companies have their agendas in keeping us terminally scrolling and jumping through hoops for numbers and visibility. This is partially why many young artists are having a tough time maintaining a sense of self worth and confidence in their work with having to give ever more time over to an entity that doesn’t care for them any more than as money generating machines.
I don’t know what the answer is any more than anyone else. I’m constantly adapting to keep myself from falling into the traps of doing too much for too little. I’ve set boundaries around what I post and where, how much time I spend online and trying to convert more people to reading about my practice here where they can get a much deeper look into what I do than on Instagram, Facebook or LinkedIn.
Thankfully, I’ve never had the issues of low esteem because of social media numbers. I’m in a generation of digital adaptors who worked and exhibited for years without social media. There have always been issues with getting work seen, written about and respected, but nothing I experienced in my younger years compares to what young artists today have to face. All I can say is, whatever you do, be aware that social media is only part of the story. Take everything you see with a big grain of salt. Be critical and ask questions about what you’re seeing online.
Lastly, there’s a quote from Gabriel García Marquez that I love: “Everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life and a secret life” Take time to cultivate your secret art life, just like how you let your imagination run wild and never told anyone about your secret lives as a kid.
Softish economics
A couple of weeks ago, I had a podcast listening day that was kind of interesting. Two pods in a row had the economy as their topics and how the current recession and inflation are affecting both Hollywood and the secondary art market:
First up is The Watch segment about the economic ups and downs in Hollywood and how writers and others are having a hard time with segments of the industry tightening belts because of how bad the overall economy is:
Next, there’s The Art Angle episode about how resale prices of artworks have plummeted recently and what this means for artists, galleries and collectors in both the secondary and primary markets as the art bubble bursts:
On a lighter note, here’s a new soulful house music mix that caught my ears as I was painting recently:
Good post!
I want to care about the art market--and listen to that podcast--but don't. I can understand why someone who sells their art would be interested in such economics, though.