Reflecting

  Embracing the truth about a painting

Reflecting - incomplete
91 x 61 cm
Acrylic on Canvas

This painting was going to be a show-piece. Everard-Read invited me to be part of a group show about still life, aimed to show people that there's more to still life than they assume, that it isn't simply pretty pictures, or meaningless objects in nice groupings. 

I thought it best to do something that I know, and that is recognizably mine, but to push the boundaries a teensy tiny bit, by adding reflections instead of shadows, and not only reflecting the marbles but also the clouds - as it was reflected in my original photo.

But on the day I was supposed to start, I also woke up sick, and was pretty much in bed (on couch) for a week - which is agonizing when there's a blank canvas just waiting in the next room. And when I was eventually well enough to work, I struggled with my concentration - I would be amped to work, sit down in front of my easel, and find myself getting up again to change a song, to make tea, to go find the cat to pet.. anything would be more interesting than working. All in all I worked for 4 - 5 weeks on this..(way too long!) and ended up not sending it in for the exhibition, because I was just not satisfied with it.

I think some of the magic of the painting got lost along the way, it seems cold to me now. As if the brush strokes are just a little too calculated, the colours desaturated. Also, I have to mention I used a different make of canvas, and that played a large role, it hardly has any texture, almost to the point of being slippery, and absorbed the paint differently than what I am used to - which is no excuse, but this no doubt just added to the awkwardness.

As you can see I removed one of the marbles, it lined up too well with the marbles next to it, and created a line with them, when removed the composition opened up, and worked much better. And I ended up flattening the background, the reflections of the sky was so distracting, I couldn't focus on the marbles. I intended to put those reflections back again afterwards, but I quite like the flatness. Now I just have to get some of the spontaneity back in the marbles, and some colours that really pop. Overall I think this painting has the potential to be a very calming and relaxing piece, but the balance between soothing and vibrant has to be just right.

And now, after having taken a break from marbles, I sit back and try to look at it anew, to put away that feeling of 'preciousness' and be willing to possibly mess it up, in order to achieve greatness.. or at least to a place where I can be proud of it.

Forbidden Fruit

  There's something to be said for progress

Spring approaches, or Forbidden fruit - 2013
100 x 70 cm
Acrylic on Canvas

Vanitas II - 2009
60 x 45 cm
Acrylic on Canvas

Today is just about posting these two paintings together, the top one is being finished as we speak (blogging while paint dries) and Vanitas was done in 2009, from the same shoot, but a slightly different angle. 

All in all a good example of how my style has changed, and how I've grown - taking in mind the massive difference in scale! But then it has to be said, at that stage 60 x 45 was my idea of large.
The thing that (oddly perhaps) strikes me most is the loss of the outline - which I thought integrated the objects into the background, but really it just distracts (to me) and takes away from the sharpness, and realism. The thing that must've changed most is the finish, thesedays I spend quite some time cleaning up lines and details, things you only pick up when you examine the painting close-up, but that's the point, I want people the enjoy the work in different ways, and that includes from different distances.

That's all for now, hope you enjoy the new work, comments and observations are always welcome!

This is where I put paintings when I need to get some distance, to get a more objective look, naturally our Cat Stevens would choose those times to inspect the new element on HIS seat, thought you'd enjoy that!

Consigned to Oblivion

  In which I almost get melodramatic, but manage to stop.

Left Behind I and II
15 x 20 cm each
Acrylic on Canvas

Tonight is the opening night of the Miniature group show in which I have two tiny little paintings. I only found out when I saw the invitation that the group show is actually accompanying a solo exhibition by Theo Paul Vorster, which is great, as I'm a huge fan of his work, and I've never seen so many of his works in one space.

I'm still not sure how I feel about these two paintings, I think I'll know as soon as I see them on the wall - when it's too late to do anything - I was in a strange head-space when I made them, they were supposed to be tightly cropped bright pomegranate pips, but after restarting 3 times, and still just getting nowhere, I decided to do these buttons. Now we've spoken about them before, so I'm not about to leap into deep analysis, but I'll give you a quick run-through.
I was feeling a little low (translate to pretty depressed) so bare with me: These buttons are left overs from forgotten garments, some from my dad's navy uniform, some from clothes my mom was gifted by her older siblings, and which she then remade into outfits for us kids etc. They wait around willingly to save someone from a malfunction, but will probably wait forever. And so they are now immortalised in their desperation. But what I had in mind while painting them is this sense of being left behind, my mom comes from a large family and recently two of her older sisters passed away after illness, and it was really hard to deal with. And I kept thinking about those left behind; husbands, children, sisters and brothers, who have to keep everything going, and what it must feel like to lose a companion after 40 - 50 years.

So while I realise this is just a still life of buttons, quite plain, I was working through some things while working on them. And now they stand as a reminder of a couple of gray months, and sadness. Which is what leaves me confused about how I feel about them, as I've gotten quite used to being all about large, bright and playful, I almost feel like I'll be exposed tonight, people will get to see this very personal thing, and not understand why it's supposed to be significant.

I waited until the day I had to deliver the paintings to the gallery to name them, 'Left Behind' perfectly encapsulated what I meant, but I didn't want people to think of the books/movies/games, or anything 'rapture', it works, but it's not the intended meaning. And so google thesaurus delivered a bunch of excellent options, including 'consigned to oblivion' which I just adore, so dramatic, with the pun on 'consigned' of course.. but after chats with my brother and dad, I decided to tone down, and go with my initial gut feeling to name them Left Behind.
And secretly refer to paintings that have not yet sold in galleries as

CONSIGNED TO OBLIVION!

And that's that.
Will post a update about the opening soon, and about other news and awesome things, until then, happy painting!

Finally, a good week  

In which one painting gets rejected. but five are chosen.

Space, contained
50 x 50 cm
Acrylic on Canvas

I completed this painting a while ago, for a competition where the works had to be 50 cm round, to fit on the tops of wine barrels at the exhibition. Out of 80 entries, 20 were chosen, and this poor guy was not chosen..

The theme for the competition was Space and spaces, and in keeping with my recent marbles theme, I thought it would be perfect to do a detailed work of the inside of a marble. As kids we always believed the insides of marbles looked exactly like space, or we'd go so far as to believe that they had somehow managed to capture a little piece of the heavens inside marbles (after all, who really knows how marbles are made?) But alas, the curators cared not. Which leaves this guy locked up in a store room for a month before I can collect it, which is a sad fate for something made to be seen.

On the upside, all five of the paintings - mentioned in my previous post - at Absolut Art Gallery sold in one week, to two different buyers. Which actually leaves me in an awkward position, as I only had one new piece to replace the five with! 

But what a fantastic sense of relief. It's a wonderful start for my relationship with the gallery, if I had 20 available pieces to give them, they'd take them all at this point! And it's one of the greatest feelings to sell my favourite paintings, as opposed to commissions, the buyers and I are seeing eye to eye, even though we'll most probably never meet. 

And that's great since I'm continuing the marbles series. Right now I'm working on a large piece for an upcoming group exhibition at Everard Read - it's invites only, but even the chosen artists' work have to be approved before-hand, so I am upping my game. I don't know if they expect that, but I think it's good to challenge yourself. And so in this painting there are colour reflections of the marbles in their shadows, and the trees and sky's reflection actually pattern the background, instead of the flat grays I tend towards. Of course, I have no idea how different it will turn out, I have to figure it out as I go, and anything could happen. 

I'd like to keep pushing my use of reflective surfaces like the brushed steel, copper and glass, and perhaps some patterned materials as well. I realised recently that the paintings I like, the work that I'd buy, is radically different from the works that I produce, and I want to bridge that gap, and experiment a little. Anything that pushes you is good, I figure!

And so, drinks are on me! And have a gloriously productive and joyful week!

On being vulnerable
This post was going to be about Realism. 
But now its about all kinds of theory that I'm going to go ahead and pretend I understand.

Two of Jeff Koons' Sacred Hearts, reproductions of 'banal' objects, of which I'm fond of
 exactly for the ideas that it mocks

From Still life 2010
25 x 35 cm, Acrylic on Canvas
The closest thing I have made to a Sacred Heart

I watched a lecture about Post-modernism, I had hoped it would simply be about contemporary painting, (which was sort-of the title) but it proved pretty interesting none-the-less.
I seem to have managed to narcissistically psycho-analyse it all to make sense (instead of learning valuable things from the lecture)
My paintings are all meaningful, sentimental, and symbolic, even though I don't use that as a selling point. For all intents and purposes it is Still life, and as such you can read into it whatever you wish. But it is never without meaning. I really love conceptual art, but I have felt guilty for a while about my work not being terribly thought provoking, and therefore might fall into the 'pointless' category to many contemporaries. 
But when viewed from a post-Post modernism perspective it almost makes sense. 
Post modernism was very much a monumental exercise in sarcasm, pointing out the flaws of modernism. It was critical, cynical and very ironically mocked the supposed sincerity of modernism. I think. 
In the late '90's and early 'naughties', I was into the 'alternative', punk and hardcore music, and later that became metal. We were part of the local 'scene', going to shows every weekend, dressing the part, thinking the part. And while we were Christians, we were angry Christians. Which makes for confused Christians. And like the lecturer also said (he was into punk) at a stage, after a couple of years, you tire of being angry. And that's where we are now. We want to bypass the sarcasm, and once again cultivate human virtues that we care about, love, hope, faith, beauty, sincerity. But "it's hard to be sincere without coming across naive and sentimental" to quote him.

Jeff Koons - Balloon dog
I absolutely love these balloon animals, I would paint one any day, and while people
would possibly think it was an homage to Koons, it would more likely be out of pure childishness.

And that is where I found myself. I think the guilty feelings of being angry lead to a sudden about-turn, and I now find myself overly sentimental. I recently finished two tiny paintings, still lifes with buttons, seen from above. And I finished it and thought it's quite realistic, the colours are very desaturated, and I like the layout. But does this painting matter? Will people understand, or do I have to add a complex title explaining why it's important, why its emotional. Because I'm afraid people will think it has no meaning and therefore is just a painting of some buttons. Which it is! But in this case, these buttons come from a jar my mom always had by her needle-work things, I would often upturn the jar and sort through the different buttons, try to find similar ones, or sort them by colour or number or button holes. The buttons we either left overs from finished garments, or recycled from thrown-away garments. Some were from my dad's navy uniform, some from school uniforms, some from clothes my mom made us when we were little, and some were so old that we didn't know. In my mind, because there's such a strong connection to my mom, and because she has a large family in which there has recently been a lot of sickness and death, the buttons somehow came to symbolise those lost relatives, and lost time. Which suddenly turns into quite a vast concept, and one quite personal to me. But does that matter? Or is it just a still life with buttons and a complex paragraph for a title? 

The point I wanted to make was this: I'm not afraid of being overly sentimental, even if people do see naivete as a bad thing. I'm willing to make myself vulnerable, and I promise to be sincere, I'm just not always sure that it will be believed, or understood. But I think that's okay. Because it comes from a good place, I don't have to apologise for it, it is what it is, whether people see it as real, ironic, or just still life.

As reward for reading all that, a picture my brother snapped of the Absolut Art Gallery front, featuring 5 of my paintings. Which I'm particularly proud of, more so than I probably should be!

Coloured dirt on a flat surface

I've been a huge far of Chuck Close for years and years, and when I finally got his DVD a couple of years back, it just re-enforced my opinion of him and his work. Last night I watched an interview where Robert Storr and Chuck Close have a chat, and I was so inspired by it, I felt such a sudden fondness for what we do, that I decided to just go ahead and paraphrase the bits that got to me. Hope you feel similarly excited about the dance we do: 

"It’s not just what I’m doing, but the choices that make it a different experience for the viewer. Painters are orchestrators of experience, that’s what we’re doing. There’s a kind of ritual dance that takes place in the studio, we’re performing artists, only no one watches us perform. But we’re dancing in front of the rectangle, we’re making these gestures at times when it’s like conducting music. And then the painting is the frozen evidence that that ritual dance, that performance took place. And it goes out into the world, and it stands in for the artist and that performance. But when a viewer gets involved with that, he can almost dance along with it, you can understand the nature of that performance. 

And that’s why, when I go to museums or galleries and look at peoples work, there’s a vicarious experience when you realise that this was made. This is not a photograph that comes up in one moment, it was made by hand. Painting is the most transcendent of all mediums, I think, because it denies its physical reality. It is coloured dirt on a flat surface, it makes space where there is no space, it reminds you of life experiences you’ve had, it transports you somewhere else. 

Coloured dirt on a flat surface, it can make you cry. It’s kind of amazing.

So you see, what I’m trying to do, is not just make Roy Lichtenstein’s nose" (he was pointing to his portrait of Lichtenstein as he said this), but give you something of a more lurid experience at the same time. 

I really do believe that what we do is a kind of magic. I feel like I’m dropping crumbs along the trail, Hansel and Gretel style, if people want to pick them up, they can take the journey that I’ve taken in making the work.

You’re just watching, you have a record of the decisions, and this incredible construction that in front of your very eyes, is an apparition. It’s built out of thin air, and that physicality, and the denial of physicality, and that looking back and forth is really an incredible high for me."

Heres the link to the video, if you'd like to see more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykna0l9cpLA

'A change is not as good as a holiday'

To misquote a friend's facebook update

Variation: Red Green Blue, 2013
Acrylic on Canvas
50 x 90 cm

The first painting started and finished in the studio.. others have been worked on or touched up, but this one is completely new. Also it was a blood sacrifice... of sorts. I offered up a painting I realised I wasn't crazy about, as I had run out of fresh canvasses.

So you might think it proves that the separate studio system has done me a world of good, but change is never simply change, and in this case it came along with stress, severe broke-ness, some more stress, and also the killer of creativity: pressure. As soon as I find myself thinking 'this one has to be great' I know there's gonna be trouble!

The crux with this one is how it relates to two circles I painted in '10, seen below, and the fact that I borrowed a friend's childhood marbles to paint, so it feels like it adds another dimension, it becomes more real somehow, at the risk of sounding pretentious.

So I'm pretty happy with that.

Anyway, so last weekend we popped in to Absolut Art, to see how my work looked on the wall, and it was brilliant, good feedback, great placement and there were samosas on sale next door, fun was had by all!

And we picked up two tiny canvasses I had gotten made, for an upcoming group exhibition. Which is what I'm working on now, in frustration, as I'm not used to working small anymore. 'Brush strokes be damned, just get it to look like something!' My panicky brain tries to shout over the mixed sounds of anticipation and fear.

This change was hectic enough that I need a holiday, or just another radical change, and as we all know, change is inevitable, so that should clear all of it up nicely.

2010 - 20 x 20 cm - Just posting this 'cause I find the changes in style interesting!

Also, if you'd be so kind as to try to 'follow' or subscribe to this, I've had severe trouble with a lack of subscribe button, and might have fixed it, time or comments will tell if it's fixed, or just messed about with!