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Pearls from artists* # 521

“Raconteur,” soft pastel in sandpaper, 58″ x 38″ image, 70″ x 50″ framed

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

But on the whole, I’m taking into consideration, at the point of the cut, where the audience’s eye is and what direction it’s moving, and with what speed. The editor has to imagine the audience’s point of attention when the film is projected, and has to be able to predict where ninety-nine percent of the audience is looking at any moment… I have to be able to say with some certainty that at such-and-such a moment ninety-nine percent of the audience will be looking at this point on the screen, and in the next second they will be looking here. That means that their eye is travelling, say, left to right, to the upper corner of the frame, at a certain speed. If I choose to cut at this point – at frame 17 – I know that at that moment their eye is right here, in the Cartesian grid of the screen.

That’s a very valuable piece of information. When I select the next shot, I choose a frame that has an interesting visual at exactly that point, where the audience’s eye is at the moment of the cut, to catch and redirect their attention somewhere else. Every shot has its own dynamic. One of the editor’s obligations is to carry, like a sacred vessel, the focus of attention of the audience and move it in interesting ways around the surface of the screen.

This is exactly what I do as I work to compose my pastel paintings! – BR

In The Conversations: Walter Murch and the Art of Editing Film by Michael Ondaatje

Comments are welcome!

Q: Have you always signed your work on the front? (Question from Anna Rybat)

Signing ”Impresario,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”

A: Yes, I have no other choice. I frame all of my pastel paintings under plexiglas soon after they’re completed. Were I to sign on the reverse, as do many painters, my signature would be hidden. Moreover, I sign using pastel pencils so the letters would get smudged.

As I compose and work to complete a pastel painting, I reserve a specific location for my signature. I sign discreetly so as not to interfere with the depicted imagery. In most cases you have to look closely to see my name.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 433

Chatting with Jenny Holzer.  It looks like she did not want her picture taken, but she was actually waiving. VIGIL: Jenny Holzer and @creativetime

Chatting with Jenny Holzer.  It looks like she did not want her picture taken, but she was actually waiving.

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

…Two positions exist, the artistic and the commercial.  Between these two an abiding tension persists.  The eighteenth-century American painter Gilbert Stuart complained, “What a business is that of portrait painter.  He is brought a potato and is expected to paint a peach.”  The artist learns that the public wants peaches, not potatoes.  You can paint potatoes if you like, write potatoes, dance potatoes, and compose potatoes, you can with great and valiant effort communicate with some other potato-eaters and peach-eaters.  In so doing you contribute to the world’s reservoir of truth and beauty.  But if you won’t give the public peaches, you won’t be paid much.

Repeatedly artists take the heroic potato position.  They want their work to be good, honest, powerful – and only then successful.  They want their work to be alive, not contrived and formulaic.  As the Norwegian painter Edvard Munch put it:  “No longer shall I paint interiors, and people reading, and women knitting.  I shall paint living people, who breathe and feel and suffer and love.”

The artist is interested in the present and has little desire to repeat old, albeit successful formulas.  As the painter Jenny Holzer put it, “I could do a pretty good third generation-stripe painting, but so what? 

The unexpected result of the artist’s determination to do his [sic] own best art is that he is put in an adversarial relationship with the public.  In that adversarial position he comes to feel rather irrational for what rational person would do work that’s not wanted? 

…Serious work not only doesn’t sell well, it’s also judged by different standards.  If the artist writes an imperfect but commercial novel it is likely to be published and sold.  If his screenplay is imperfect but commercial enough it may be produced.  If it is imperfect and also uncommercial it will not be produced.  If his painting is imperfect but friendly and familiar it may sell well.  If it is imperfect and also new and difficult, it may not sell for decades, if ever.

Ironically enough, the artist attempting serious work must also attain the very highest level of distinction possible.  He must produce Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov but not also The Insulted and Injured or A Raw Youth, two of Dostoevsky’s nearly unknown novels.  He is given precious little space in this regard.      

I daresay, this last is why I devote my life to creating the most unique, technically advanced pastel paintings anyone will see!

Eric Maisel, A Life in the Arts:  Practical Guidance and Inspiration for Creative and Performing Artists

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 406

With “Avenger,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38” image, 70” x 50” framed

With “Avenger,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38” image, 70” x 50” framed

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

If we really are due for a shift in consciousness, it is incumbent upon each of us to “be the change,” in Gandhi’s famous phrase.  Nothing is written in the stars.

Art is a testament to this way of thinking, because every great work of art is made, not for an abstract audience, but for the lone percipient with whom it seeks to connect.  The symbols that compose artistic works are not static objects but dynamic events.  As such, they can only emerge within a field of awareness, that is, within the context of a life being lived.  It is therefore by approaching the work of art as though it were intended specifically for you – as though the artist had fashioned it with you in mind every step of the way – that you can turn the aesthetic experience into an engine of change in your own life and in the lives of those around you.

J.F. Martel in Reclaiming Art in the Age of Artifice:  A Treatise, Critique, and Call to Action

Comments are welcome!

Q: What do you do when you are feeling undervalued and/or misunderstood as a visual artist?

On a favorite walk

On a favorite walk

A:  After more than three decades as a professional artist, I wish I could say this rarely happens, but that’s not the case.  People say dumb things to artists all the time and I’m no exception.  Often I tune it out, remembering the title of a terrific book by Hugh MacLeod called, “Ignore Everybody and 39 Other Keys to Creativity.”  Come to think of it, it’s time for a re-read of Hugh’s wise book.

But ignoring people is not always possible.  So I might take a break from the studio, go for a long walk along the Hudson River, compose photographs, think about what’s bothering me, and try to refocus and remember all the positive things that art-making has brought to my life.  I always feel better after this simple ritual.

Here’s another helpful quote that I read recently and try to remember:

‘’An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.” – Charles Cooley

I wonder, what do you do?

Comments are welcome!

 

Pearls from artists* # 280

"Palaver,"soft pastel on sandpaper, 26" x 20"

“Palaver,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26″ x 20″

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

What is the task?  To compose a work that communicates on several levels, as in a parable, devoid of the stain of cleverness.

What is the  dream?  To write something fine, that would be better than I am, and that would justify my trials and indiscretions.  To offer proof, through a scramble of words, that God exists.

Who do I write?  My finger, as a stylus, traces the question in the blank air.  A familiar riddle posed since youth, withdrawing from play, comrades and the valley of love, girded with words, a beat outside.

Why do we write?  A chorus erupts.

Because we cannot simply live. 

Patti Smith in Devotion

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 115

 

Giorgio de Chirico, "The Enigma of a Day," oil on canvas, 6' 1 1/4  x 55," MoMA

Giorgio de Chirico, “The Enigma of a Day,” oil on canvas, 6′ 1 1/4 x 55,” MoMA

* 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 DISQUIETING MUSES

From Two de Chiricos

[On Giorgio de Chirico]

 

Boredom sets in first, and then despair.

One tries to brush it off.  It only grows.

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Something is wrong; something about the air,

It’s color; about the light, the way it goes.

Something about the silence of the square.

 

The muses in their fluted evening wear,

Their faces blank, might lead one to suppose

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Something about the buildings standing there.

But no, they have no purpose but to pose.

Boredom sets in first, and then despair.  

 

What happens after that, one doesn’t care.

What brought one here – the desire to compose

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Or something else, of which one’s not aware,

Life itself, perhaps – who really knows?

Boredom sets in first and then despair…

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Mark Strand in Art and Artists:  Poems, edited by Emily Fragos

Comments are welcome! 

 

Pearls from artists* # 24

Untitled, chromogenic print, 24" x 24," edition of 5

Untitled, chromogenic print, 24″ x 24,” edition of 5

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

A person is not an artist until he works at his art, no matter how eloquently he speaks during the cocktail hour or how fine are the images that come to his mind.  As David Salle, the visual artist, put it, “It’s easy to be an artist in your head.”  We, as artists, know this.  We realize that often we are not able to translate our vision into splendid art.  Even the finest artists write books that are not great, paint pictures that are not great, compose pieces that are not great, involve themselves in projects that are not great.  But artists can only try – and must try.

When you love what you are doing, know what you are doing, and do it, a confidence is bred in you that is the best stretcher of limits.  Then you can say, as the visual artist June Wayne said, “Now when I start something, I expect to carry it off.”

Eric Maisel, A Life in the Arts

Comments are welcome!

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