Blog Archives

Pearls from artists* # 317

Fifth Avenue

Fifth Avenue

*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 everything that may some day be possible to many the solitary man can now prepare and build with his hands, that err less.  Therefore, dear sir, love your solitude and bear with sweet-sounding lamentation the suffering it causes you.  For those who are near you are far, you say, and that shows it is beginning to grow wide about you.  And when what is near you is far, then your distance is already among the stars and very large; rejoice in your growth, in which you naturally can take no one with you, and be kind to those who remain behind, and be sure and calm before them and do not torment them with your doubts and do not frighten them with your confidence or joy, which they could not understand.  Seek yourself some sort of simple and loyal community with them, which need not necessarily change as you yourself become different and again different; love in them life in an unfamiliar form and be considerate of aging people, who fear that being-alone in which you trust.  Avoid contributing material to the drama that is always stretched taut between parents and children; it uses up much of the children’ energy and consumes the love of their elders, which is effective and warming even if it does not comprehend.  Ask no advice from them and count upon no understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance and trust that in this love there is a strength and a blessing, out beyond which you do not have to step in order to go very far!            

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet, Translation by M.D. Herter Norton

Comments are welcome!

Q: What are some of your work habits? Do you sit most of the day?

Barbara at work, Photo: Marianne Barcellona

Barbara at work, Photo: Marianne Barcellona

A:  No, I never sit while working.  I enjoy the physicality of art-making and prefer to stand at my easel so I can back up to see how a painting looks from a distance.  I like being on my feet all day and getting some exercise.

In order to accomplish anything, artists need to be disciplined.  I work five days a week, taking Wednesdays and Sundays off, and spend seven hours or more in the studio.  Daylight is necessary so I work more hours in summer, fewer in winter.  I deliberately don’t have a clock on the wall – art-making is independent of timetables – but I tend to work in roughly two-hour blocks before taking a break. 

Studio hours are sacrosanct and exclusively for creative work.  I keep my computer and mobile devices out of the studio.  Art business activities – answering email, keeping up with social media, sending jpegs, writing blog posts, doing interviews, etc. – are mostly accomplished at home in the evenings and on days off.

Comments are welcome!         

Pearls from artists* # 108

At work on a pastel painting

At work on a pastel painting

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

Artists generally need privacy in order to create, and as I’ve noted, what constitutes adequate privacy varies by person and time.  Solitude quickly becomes isolation when it oversteps one’s desires.  But most artists need to feel that they and their work won’t be examined prematurely and, certainly, won’t be ambushed unfinished by ridiculing eyes.  You might go out and invite various people to critique a piece in progress, even knowing they’re unlikely to view it with sympathy, exactly because you feel there’s necessary information in their opinion.  But, if you’ve invited them, however unpleasant the response, your experience is likely preferable to what you would feel if they impulsively offered up the same critiques unsolicited.

Someone making art needs privacy in part because the process of creation makes many people feel vulnerable, sometimes exquisitely so, particularly since the work frequently emerges in a jumble of  mixed-up small parts that you can only assemble gradually, or in a wet lumpy mound that requires patient sculpting.  When people feel prematurely revealed or exposed, they often experience great discomfort and find themselves babbling apologetically, seeking to reassure by laying out the distance they have yet to travel.  It is in part this babble-as-smoke-screen to cover exposure resulting, distracting, unhappy self-consciousness that privacy seeks to shelter.

But even more significantly, privacy grants us permission to turn our attention inward without interruption.  As I described earlier, in order to concentrate, think, and fantasize, we need to feel we’re in a safe enough space that we can lower our vigilance, stop monitoring our environment, and allow ourselves to refocus on the happenings within our own minds.  There are times interruptions feel merciful, but many more when they disrupt our effort to flesh out an inchoate notion.

Janna Malamud Smith in an absorbing errand:  How Artists and Craftsmen Make Their Way to Mastery 

Comments are welcome!  

Q: Can you talk about how you transport your large pastel-on-sandpaper paintings?

Barbara's 1993 Ford truck

Barbara’s 1993 Ford truck

A:  In 1993 Bryan and I bought a Ford F-150 pickup truck (he dubbed it “Sisyphus”) because it was the perfect size – 54” between the wheel wells – to slide my wrapped, framed paintings in and out of.   Pastel paintings are fragile and need to lie flat while being transported.  I remember that Bryan and I would go to a car dealership, a salesman would start his sales pitch, one of us would say, “Wait a minute,” and Bryan would hop into the back of a new truck with a tape measure to take a measurement!  We both got a kick out of being such eccentric customers. 

Fortunately, Ford trucks of that era are well-made.  Mine has 198,000 miles on it.  Whenever I bring it in for maintenance, there is some excitement at the dealership because, it’s all metal (not fiberglass) and there are no computers.  Late model trucks are much smaller (most customers cares about low gas mileage; I still need that distance between the wheel wells).  My paintings would not fit in any trucks made today (or any model since 1997, I believe) so I take good care of “Sisyphus.”  I’m  hoping it will still be going strong well beyond 200,000 miles!      

Pearls from artists* # 65

Museum of Modern Art, NYC

Museum of Modern Art, NYC

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

To create demands a certain undergoing:  surrender to a subconscious process that can yield surprising results.  And yet, despite the intuitive nature of the artistic process, it is of utmost importance to be aware of the reason you create.  Be conscious about what you are attempting or tempting.  Know why you are doing it.  Understand what you expect in return.

The intentions that motivate an act are contained within the action itself.  You will never escape this.  Even though the “why” of any work can be disguised or hidden, it is always present in its essential DNA.  The creation ultimately always betrays the intentions of the artist.  James Joyce called this invisible motivation behind a work of art “the secret cause.”  This cause secretly informs the process and then becomes integral to the outcome.  This secret cause determines the distance that you will journey in the process and finally, the quality of what is wrought in the heat of the making.    

Anne Bogart in and then, you act:  making art in an unpredictable world 

 

 

Pearls from artists* # 64

High Line, New York, NY

High Line, New York, NY

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

As soon as an artist has located the vital center of his activities, nothing will be more important than for him to remain within this center and never move further away from it (which is, of course, also the center of his nature, of his world) than the interior walls of his quietly and steadily expanding achievement.  His place is not, never, not even for a moment, next to the beholder and critic (at least no longer in an environment where all that is visible becomes ambiguous and preliminary, an auxiliary construction and temporary scaffolding for something else).  And one basically needs to be an acrobat to leap back safely and unharmed from this point of view into one’s inner center (the distances are too great and all the spots too destabilized to risk such an entirely inquisitive feat).  Most artists today use up their strength in this back-and-forth, and in addition to wasting their energy they get terribly confused and lose a part of their essential innocence to the sin of having taken their work from the outside by surprise, to have tasted it, to have joined others in enjoying it!     

Ulrich Baer, editor, The Wisdom of Rilke

Comments are welcome!