Been a while

It's been a while since I posted anything. I have been a little bit busy with life outside of my studio. I was in New York City and presented my swan song talk at the annual meeting of the Eastern Psychological Association entitled "From Isaiah to AI: The complex History of Hallucinations". Also saw "The Lion King" on Broadway. That was great! 

I went to Pennsylvania the following weekend for the funeral of an old friend of mine -- Steve Kreamer. We had been very close friends for a decade; but when I moved back to central New York, we had lost touch a bit, until recently. I was looking forward to playing golf with Steve this summer. But alas.

(Steve is third from right)

And, of course, I have plugging away with school work. The semester ends early this semester (by May 11th, we're totally done). I have also been doing a little work on my music.

I am enjoying the fruits of my previous work; as I have pieces in three different exhibits currently. I was VERY pleased to be accepted into the "Made in New York" exhibit at the Schweinfurth Art Gallery in Auburn, NY (reception this Friday!). The acceptance arte was only 15%. I have a number of pieces on exhibit at The Black Gryphon (Annville, PA). And I have three pieces in the Regional Art Show at The Pau Nigra Center for Creative Arts in Gloversville, NY. I think this s only the second time I have had pieces in 3 concurrent exhibits.

I have been doing some minimal studio time. I continue to explore interesting images in magazines (and an old yearbook), and have experimented with some sketches. But I do look forward to getting back and doing some more intensive work very soon. Thanks for checking out my blog!

Evocation

According to Oxford English Dictionary, "evocation" means the act of bringing a feeling, memory, or image to the conscious mind. I have always wanted my artwork to be evocative. I provide an image for the viewer; but most of the time, I want the image to serve as something like a Rorschach ink-blot. That is, rather than me trying to convey "a message" to the viewer, I prefer that the image evoke feelings (i.e., some emotional reaction). And I'm generally not concerned about what those feelings/responses happen to be (although I am generally not interested in evoking a feeling of being "insulting" to others). I consider myself a "lucky" artist, in that, when I am in my studio and a composition stirs some reaction in me, I am generally quite confident that it will have the same effect on someone else viewing the piece. The feelings can arise from looking at a composition that is aesthetically-pleasing; but it can also come from an image that is somewhat disturbing. I think my favorite composition is one that is ambiguous, but still evocative -- one for which the viewer "provides the emotional narrative". What prompted me to write this post this morning, was this sketch I worked on last night in the studio. It's just a sketch at this point -- I'm not sure I will continue with it or not. But as it emerged, I found it at once ambiguous, and hauntingly evocative. So I thought I would share.

How long?

In addition to copyright and creativity questions, I often get asked "how long does it take you to create a piece"?, when I give a presentation or have an exhibit. Without meaning to be evasive, I respond by saying that it is really difficult to answer that question. I have rarely created a composition in a single setting (as in, almost never). In addition, as I have written about in the past, my creative process relies on emergence of ideas after much exploration and experimentation with various elements. That is, it is highly unusual for me to have an idea in my head, that I then try to express in a composition. I have hundreds (thousands?) of pages of interesting images kind of "floating around" my studio space that I "play around" with somewhat chaotically -- waiting for interesting compositions to emerge. Sometimes compositions take weeks, or months, to come together fully. So it was interesting this weekend, when this composition emerged so quickly. I had come close to finishing the "microscope slide" piece (I still have to figure out how to mount it; and I still need to apply the UV varnish on the individual pieces); so I started cleaning up my workspace a bit and was looking around at some elements that I had previously coated that were strewn about the studio. As I was experimenting with pieces and placements, a composition started to emerge. Of course, the emergence of these compositions don't just happen haphazardly. Once I "see" something interesting starting to emerge, my role as an artist is to pay attention to some basic design issues, like balance and contrast. Anyway, to make a short story not much longer, here is a piece that came together in about 24 hours (from Friday night until last night). I think the title will be "Seeking a Brain #7" -- the seventh in a series which includes former actor Ray Bolger (who played the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz).

"microscope slide" project, almost complete

The snow in central NY (Utica) has been a bit overwhelming this past week. Utica University rarely cancels classes for "snow days", but did so last Friday, yesterday (Monday) and today. So I have been enjoying alternating between shoveling snow (great exercise) and spending time in my studio. Yesterday, I made some great progress on an interesting project I wrote about a few weeks ago on this blog. I'm not quite finished with it; but I thought I would share some intermediate photos of the work. I think it's an interesting project for a number of reasons. I created a long (24 inches) composition; which I then cut into 1" x 3" segments to mimic the dimensions of a microscope slide. These smaller segments will then be housed in a wooden microscope slide box. An interesting question arises, I suppose... should this be considered one collage, that is now cut-up; or is it 24 "mini collages" (or both perhaps)? When eventually placed in the wooden slide box, the collage images will be mostly obscured (out of sight), until they are removed from the box. In order to see the entirety of the initial long collage, the slides will need to be re-configured. Weird... but I like the "complexity" of the work. Here are some photos of the almost-finished work...

gotta paint the edges!

Finally finished

I finally finished these two pieces today. They were a bit long in the making, as I had many decisions to make and went through some "need to fix it" moments for both. If you have followed this blog at all recently, you are aware that the one with the flower started-off with a beautiful transfer of a fetal skull... which quickly got "ghosty" enough that I didn't feel comfortable leaving it as an element. So I covered it and worked on a conceptually different piece. I like the way it turned out; although it seems a little bit busy to me. The other piece is, of course, a nod to Warhol. 

"Love is Blind" (7" x 7"; 11" x 11" framed)

"Elvis, Abe, and Andy" (14" x 6.5"; 18" x 10.5" framed).

 

Tom Nettle shout out

 I went to the opening reception of the Winter Solstice exhibit at The Paul Nigra Center for the Arts (Gloversville, NY) last night. I have two collages in the exhibit; and my good friend Tom Nettle had two of his paintings in the exhibit as well. I am SO happy that Tom received "Best in Show: Second Place" honors for his "Self-Portrait 2020" painting! And I must say, the exhibit consists of a very strong collection of artworks. Bravo Tom! Well-deserved.

Serendipitous circle

It's been a bit since I posted. I was away for 4 days at the Southern Humanities Conference in Greenville, SC. The conference was WONDERFUL! Such a great group of humanities scholars. The theme this year was "Real, Artificial, and Superficial". I presented a paper about the nature of hallucinations and how using the term "hallucination" for a factual mistake that AI makes is a complete misnomer. I also heard two papers that alluded to the term "aura" (coined by Walter Benjamin), as it relates to authenticity in artwork. VERY interesting. Anyway since I have been back, I have been mostly experimenting and exploring in my studio, rather than getting any pieces completed. I think it is a natural cycle that I go through. I am starting to get to the point where I will complete several projects soon. I continue to work on the composition which will include covering up the skull transfer that "went bad". I will be using a "punched-out" circle element in this piece and wanted to share a fortuitous and beautiful serendipitous event that happened. I had made several punched-out circle elements from this page of The Art Journal (circa 1878) to cover-up the female sculpture taken from the same page (to match the gray patina). I didn't realize until last night, that the subtle variegation in the element matched perfectly (and beautifully) with the pelvis curve of the sculptural element. This serendipitous and unintentional event will absolutely enhance this overall composition... and I couldn't be happier.