Monthly Archives: August 2017
Pearls from artists* # 263
“Alone Together,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20″ x 26″
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
Making art and viewing art are different at their core. The sane human being is satisfied that the best he/she can do at any given moment is the best he/she can do at any given moment. That belief, if widely embraced, would make this book unnecessary, false, or both. Such sanity is, unfortunately, rare. Making art provides uncomfortably accurate feedback about the gap that inevitably exists between what you intended to do, and what you did. In fact, if artmaking did not tell you (the maker) so enormously much about yourself, then making art that matters to you would be impossible. To all viewers but yourself, what matters is the product: the finished artwork. The viewers’ concerns are not your concerns (although it’s dangerously easy to adopt their attitudes). Their job is whatever it is: to be moved by art, to be entertained by it, to making a killing off it, whatever. Your job is to learn to work on your work.
David Bayles and Ted Orlando in Art & Fear: Observations On the Perils (and Rewards) of ARTMAKING
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I am continuing work on “The Orator,” 38″ x 58,” the second pastel painting in my new “Bolivianos” series.
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 262
“Big Deal,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58″ x 38″
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
It may have been easier to paint bison on the cave walls long ago than to write this (or any other) sentence today. Other people, in other times and places, had some robust institutions to shore them up: witness the Church, the clan, ritual, tradition. It’s easy to imagine that artists doubted their calling less when working in the service of God than when working in the service of self.
Not so today. Today almost no one feels shored up. Today artwork does not emerge from secure common ground: the bison on the wall is someone else’s magic. Making art now means working in the face of uncertainty; it means living with doubt and contradiction, doing something no one much cares whether you do, and for which there may be neither audience nor reward. Making the work you want to make means setting aside these doubts so that you may see clearly what you have done, and thereby see where to go next. Making the work you want to make means finding nourishment within the work itself. This is not the Age of Faith, Truth, and Certainty.
David Bayles and Ted Orlando in Art & Fear: Observations On the Perils (and Rewards) of ARTMAKING
Comments are welcome!
Q: Would you elaborate as to how your recent trip to Bolivia is influencing your work just now?
La Paz, Bolivia
A: I consider myself extremely fortunate to have seen a mask exhibition at the National Museum of Ethnography and Folklore when I visited La Paz in May. Presented as they were against black walls with dramatic spot-lighting, the masks looked exactly like 3D versions of my paintings! These old Bolivian masks were stunning.
I spent a long time there composing photographs on my iPad. Immediately I knew this exhibition was a gift because I now had material to keep me busy in the studio for several years.
I have completed the first pastel painting in my new series, “Bolivianos,” and am far along into the second. I’m looking forward to many more to come!
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 261
Suffolk County
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
I think that the sensation and process are almost identical in all creative activities. The pattern seems universal. The study and hard work, The prepared mind. The being stuck. The sudden shift. The letting go of control. The letting go of self.
Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious: Science and the Human Spirit
Comments are welcome!
Q: What non-art book are you reading now?
Tiwanaku
A: I am reading Kim Mac Quarrie’s, “The Last Days of the Incas.” It’s fascinating to discover the intricacies of the epic conquest of the short-lived Inca empire. The book is actually thrilling to read. Mac Quarrie makes this story come alive.
Last summer I traveled to Peru to investigate the history of the Incas and the civilizations that preceded them. In May of this year I continued my studies with a trip to Bolivia. Both trips are proving to be highly inspirational for my art practice.
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 260
Suffolk County
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
The best analogy I’ve been able to find for that intense feeling of the creative moment is sailing a round-bottomed boat in strong wind. Normally, the hull stays down in the water, with the frictional drag greatly limiting the speed of the boat. But in high wind, every once in a while the hull lifts out of the water, and the drag goes down to zero. It feels like a great hand has suddenly grabbed hold and flung you across the surface like a skimming stone. It’s called planing.
Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious: Science and the Human Spirit
Comments are welcome!
Start/Finish of “Conundrum,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38″ x 58″ image, 50″ x 70″ framed
Rough charcoal drawing on sandpaper
Finished
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 259
In Bolivia on Lake Titicaca
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
In college, I made two important decisions about my career.
First, I would put my writing on the back burner until I became well established in science. I know of a few scientists who later became writers, like C.P. Snow, Rachel Carson, but no writers who later became scientists. For some reason, science – at least the creative, research side of science – is a young person’s game. In my own field, physics, I found that the average age at which Nobel Prize winners did their prize-winning work was only thirty-six. Perhaps it has something to do with the focus on and isolation of the subject. A handiness for visualizing in six dimensions or for abstracting the motion of a pendulum favors an agility of mind but apparently requires little knowledge of the human world. By contrast, the arts and humanities require experience with life and the awkward contradictions of people, experience that accumulates and deepens with age.
Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious: Science and the Human Spirit
Comments are welcome!
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