Three drawings
New work and a serendipitous look back...
Some of last week’s studio activities included making some studies for now in-progress paintings. Most of the way I’ve worked over time has always included making works on paper or sketches that may be departure points for paintings, but never one-to-one translations. During the making of a couple of the paintings in my show at Bridgette Mayer on view now, I went in with some new ideas that I’m exploring more.
With the new works on paper seen above, I’m incorporating some of what I learned and extending that to the new paintings I’m making. There’s elements of the three drawings that may make it into the paintings, but I never know until I get to working on the main thing. Even with all of this, many things are likely to change due to changes in scale and materials. What’s working here on paper will be different on the wood panels I’m painting on. There are always in the moment calculations that have to be made and allowances for chance happenings with paint and other materials.
The start of one of the two new paintings. I’m taking a different approach to the build up of layers, beginning with random mark making, layered on top with acrylic medium and another layer of more directed drawing with water-soluble graphite and colored pencils. The main form here is just a jumping off space that will anchor another form that’s similar, but not connected directly. I’m playing around a bit more with transparencies.
This is where I was last night. There are likely to be a couple more layers on both of these with open and solid shapes. I’m taking my cues from my piece, Sail To The Moon, one of the last paintings that I made for “All Of This Is True”. I made some interesting strides towards a new way of making some of my paintings and I’m excited about the possibilities to come.
These works are coming into being with a mix of planning and chance incidents. I’ve leaned heavily on things happening by chance in the recent past, so it’s a new feeling to have gotten to a point of not leaning so heavily into it now. There’s still a ton of space for materials and ideas to come together in unexpected ways, but for the moment, I’m embracing a bit more balance of sorts between the two.
This is the state of these two as of yesterday, 4.17.24
Flickr Files
Left: January 21, 2008, 6:01pm.
Right: December 29, 2011, 5:19pm
Self portraits made in my Old City, Philly, studio three years apart and found in my old photo stash on Flickr in two different albums. I’m thoroughly surprised at the similarities of dates/tome of year, poses and clothing. I’m a bit of a forgetful documentarian when it comes to similar photos I’ve made so it’s not unusual for me to find similar photos of mine from different years and times. The black and white shot was taken as part of my “365” photo-a-day project back in 2008. The other one was just a random self portrait I decided to make near the end of my studio day.
It’s cool to see the increase in paint on the walls and coveralls over that three year period. I really thought it was a hassle to repaint the walls every so often, so I just let the paint marks accumulate. In a way, at the time it was a way for me to see how much I was working. The residue of production was important in a somewhat shallow way. For some reason, deep down I needed the validation of the extra marks to remind myself that I was “really” working in that space. Eventually, it became too much and I painted over all of it. When I did, it was actually a relief because I realized how hard I was making it to “see” the work. I could tell what I was doing, but the paint patterns had become way too distracting.
Those coveralls served me very well in those years. There was heat available, but really expensive, relative to my income, so I rarely used it. I was very layered up with thermal hoodie, jeans, long johns, fingerless gloves and hat, when needed. I washed the coveralls every few weeks to keep them from becoming too filthy. I didn’t mind the accumulation of paint, but too much dirt was another matter. I still have those coveralls, but haven’t had the need to use them in a long time. I have stable heat in my present studio and the winters in Philly have become relatively mild over time.
I was especially moved by the photograph, with all the paint drippings and you standing in front covered in paint. I understand the distraction of making new work on a wall covered with your previous endeavors. (When I was getting my MFA at PAFA, a "renowned" critic saw me painting my canvases on top of orange & yellow milk crates, which I regularly took from behind Wawa. He pointed out the distraction of the crate colors and the way in which anything near me could influence my work. This was indeed a helpful reminder, especially being almost 50 & unconsciously knowing this!) My point is: this photograph is a gem. It says to me that you, the painted artist, are intertwined with the painted wall. You are the heartbeat, the pulse of your marks and drips and past. This photograph is in itself wonderful!
Photographs are such a great way to growth. It also gives me a way to reflect on my mindset past and present. Looking forward to seeing the process of your new works!