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Pearls from artists* # 420

‘Science in Surrealism,” published by Gallery Wendy Norris

‘Science in Surrealism,” published by Gallery Wendy Norris

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

During the early period of Einstein’s great fame, which began in 1919, Breton wrote an essay for the first one-man show in Paris of Max Ernst.  There, for the first time, he expressed what would become the central mechanism of Surrealism’s theory of poetry:  the experience of ‘disorientation,’ engendered by what Breton called ‘the marvelous ability to reach out, without leaving the field of our experience, to two distinct realities and bring them together to create a spark.’  Perhaps in search of authorization, Breton gave this definition in the context of the ‘separate systems of reference’ posited by Einstein’s Relativity.  This, Breton argued, helped make sense of weird juxtapositions to be found in Ernst’s collages of the time, shown in Paris in the same year that the German to French translations of both Einstein’s Relativity:  The Special Theory and the General Theory and [Sir Arthur] Eddington’s, Space, Time, and Gravitation were published.  This in turn gave Breton and his friends a glimpse of the ‘real’ world ushered in by the new physics.      

Sibylline Strangeness:  Surrealism and Modern Physics,” by Gavin Parkinson in Science in Surrealism, published by Gallery Wendy Norris

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Pearls from artists* # 419

A corner of Barbara’s West Village apartment

A corner of Barbara’s West Village apartment

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

Dear Reader,

We wouldn’t need books quite so much if everyone around us understood us well.  But they don’t.  Even those who love us get us wrong  They tell us who we are but leave things out.  They claim to know what we need, but forget to ask us properly first.  They can’t understand what we feel – and sometimes, we’re unable to tell them, because we don’t really understand it ourselves.  That’s where books come in.  They explain us to ourselves and to others, and make us feel less strange, less isolated and less alone.  We might have lots of good friends, but even with the best friends in the world, there are things that no one quite gets.  That’s the moment to turn to books.  They are friends waiting for us any time we want them, and they will always speak honestly to us about what really matters.  They are the perfect cure for loneliness.  They can be our very closest friends. 

Yours,

Alain

Alain de Botton in A Velocity of Being:  Letters to a Young Reader edited by Maria Popova and Claudia Bedrick

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Pearls from artists* # 414

New York, NY

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 we grow into our true artistic selves, we start to realize that the tools don’t matter, the story does.  Your point of view and the way that you express yourself as a photographer are how you tell the stories that matter to you.  And that, my friends, is therapeutic.

There’s a certain amount of Zen in that act.  Peace and tranquility are hard to come by in today’s world.  But through photography, we all have a chance to find both.

As photographers, we sometimes lose sight of the fact that our ability to use a camera gives us a chance to show everyone else who we are.  Young photographers often obsess over doing something new. Older photographers, like Rick and I, realize that the real goal is in being you.  So focus on being you not on being new for new’s sake.  This is the path to both inner and outer success.

People will ask you what you photograph.  I personally am often described as a bird photographer.  But we are not what we do.  It’s important to note the difference.  And that is because people don’t care what you do.  They care why you do it.  If you are doing what you are meant to do, you will be able to articulate your own why. 

Scott Bourne in Photo Therapy Motivation and Wisdom by Rick Sammon 

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Pearls from artists* # 404

"Broken," soft pastel on sandpaper, 38" x 58" image, 50" x 70" framed

“Broken,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38″ x 58″ image, 50″ x 70″ 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.

Before we can even think of ecological rescue, global disarmament, or economic reform, we must find a way back to what science fiction writers call our homeworld.  The term encompasses more than the biosphere; it also includes our homes, our places of work, our  communities, families, friends, and lovers.  It includes our technologies and tools, the physical body, the sensible soul, and the unconscious psyche.  We need a faith to restore our capacity to feel, to affect and be affected with the same passionate intensity as our forebears, whose powers of feeling astound us so in the records and art of the past.  The death of affect, to borrow a phrase from JG Ballard, is the true catastrophe of our spectral age, our spiritual Hiroshima.  It makes questions such as whether life’s riddles are answered at the Vatican, in Tibet, or by the Large Hadron Collider utterly meaningless, since it removes the ground we need to pose such questions in the first place.  Neither religion nor science can give us back the ground.  Only the imagination can.  Only art can mend the rupture of the soul and the world, the body and the earth.       

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

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Pearls from artists* # 401

"Prophecy," Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 58" x 38" Image, 70" x 50" Framed

“Prophecy,” 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.

Said [Larry] Rivers,

You could be poor and think your life worthwhile – the dance of the mind, the leap of the intellect.  If you made art that did not sell immediately, or ever, you could still be involved in a meaningful, inspiring activity that was a reward in itself, and you could show it to the people you dreamed of thrilling with your efforts; your friends were your audience.  They were sitting on your shoulder watching you work.  That was the opera of the time… Pursuit of a career and commercial success was selling out, losing one’s soul.  In painting, writing, music, and dance, nothing could be more shameful.   

Mary Gabriel in Ninth Street Women

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Pearls from artists* # 400

In the studio with friends

In the studio with friends

* 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 student in the audience raised her hand and asked me:

“Why should I live?”

… In the very act of asking that question, you are seeking reasons for your convictions, and so you are committed to reason as the means to discover and justify what is important to you.  And there are so many reasons to live!

As a sentient being, you have the potential to flourish.  You can refine your faculty of reason itself by learning and debating.  You can seek explanations of the natural world through science, and insight into the human condition through the arts and humanities.  You can make the most of your capacity for pleasure and satisfaction, which allowed your ancestors to thrive and thereby allowed you to exist.  You can appreciate the beauty and the richness of the natural and cultural world.  As the heir to billions of years of life perpetuating itself, you can perpetuate life in turn.  You have been endowed with a sense of sympathy – the ability to like , love, respect, help, and show kindness – and you can enjoy the gift of mutual benevolence with friends, family, and colleagues.

And because reason tells you that none of this is particular to you, you have the responsibility to provide to others what you expect for yourself.  You can foster the welfare of other sentient beings by enhancing life, health, knowledge, freedom, abundance, safety, beauty, and peace.  History shows that when we sympathize with others and apply our ingenuity to improving the human condition, we can make progress in doing so, and you can help to continue that progress.

Stephen Pinker in Enlightenment Now:  The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress 

Comments are welcome!

Q: What do you enjoy most about being an artist?

With “Majordomo,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20” x 26”

With “Majordomo,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20” x 26”

A: This is a question I enjoy revisiting every so often because life as an artist does not get easier; just the opposite, in fact.  Visual artists tend to be “one man bands.”  We do it all notwithstanding the fact that everything gets harder as we get older.  So it’s good to be reminded about what makes all the sacrifice and hard work worthwhile.

There are so many things to enjoy!  I make my own schedule, set my own tasks, and follow new interests wherever they may  lead.  I am curious about everything and am rarely bored.  I continually push my pastel technique and strive to become a better artist.  There is still so much to learn!  

My relationship with collectors is another perk.  I love to see pastel paintings hanging on collectors’ walls, especially when they’re newly installed and the owners are excited to take possession.  This means that the piece has found a good home, that years of hard work have come full circle!  And it’s often the start of a long friendship.  After living with my pastel paintings for years, collectors tell me they see new details never noticed before and they appreciate the work more than ever.  It’s extremely gratifying to have built a network of supportive art-loving friends around the country.  I’m sure most artists would say the same!

Comments are welcome!

Q: You have worked with twenty-plus galleries during your career. Which ones do you consider the best?

"Myth Meets Dream," 1993, soft pastel on sandpaper, the earliest painting that includes Mexican figures

“Myth Meets Dream,” 1993, soft pastel on sandpaper, the earliest painting that includes Mexican figures

A:  Probably the most prestigious gallery that represented my work was Brewster Fine Arts on West 57th Street in Manhattan.  Brewster was my first New York gallery.  In the summer of 1996 I mailed the gallery a sheet of slides, as we did in those days.  I was living in Virginia and had been a working artist for ten years.  In July while traveling around Mexico, I decided to check the phone messages at home in Virginia.  I was thrilled to receive an invitation from Mia Kim, the gallery director, to exhibit pastel paintings in October!  And she had not yet even seen my work in person.

Beginning that fall, I gained representation with Brewster Fine Arts, an elegant gallery specializing in Latin American Masters like Rufino Tamayo, Diego Rivera, and others.  I am not Latina, of course, but I showed there due to my subject matter.  At my October opening, I remember Mia declaring to the attendees, “Barbara has the soul of a Latina!”  That night I met fellow gallery artist Leonora Carrington. She and I were the only non-Latina artists respresented.  I knew I was on my way! 

The gallery continued to present my work in group exhibitions and the staff gave brilliant talks about me and my creative process.  For many years whenever I introduced myself to a new art aficionado, they already knew my work from having seen it at Brewster.  I continued to be represented there until the gallery closed years later.

Also, Gallery Bergelli in Larkspur, CA did an excellent job of representing my work.  I applied for one of their juried exhibitions, was accepted, and afterwards, they offered permanent representation.  Soon they introduced me to one of my best collectors, with whom I am still friends.

I have worked with many galleries, some good, some not, for various reasons.  Ours is an extremely tough business.  Unfortunately, many of the best and formerly-great galleries are gone forever.   

Comments are welcome!   

Q: What advice would you give to up and coming artists, as well as experienced artists, who want to reach the level of publicity and notoriety that you have achieved?

On my studio wall

On my studio wall

A:  I have several pieces of advice:

Build a support network among your fellow artists, teachers, and friends.  It is tough to be an artist, period.  Be sure to read plenty of books by and about artists.  You will learn that all have experienced similar challenges.

Do whatever you must to keep working – no matter what!  Being an artist never gets easier.  There are always new obstacles and you will discover solutions over time.

When I left the active duty Navy in 1989, my co-workers threw a farewell party.  One of the parting gifts I received was a small plaque from a young enlisted woman whom I had supervised.  The words on the plaque deeply resonated with me, since I was about to make a significant and risky career change.  It was the perfect gift for someone facing the uncertainty of an art career. 

Many years later the plaque is still a proud possession of mine.  It hangs on the wall behind my easel, to be read every day as I work.  It says:

“Excellence can be attained if you…

Care more than others think is wise…

Risk more than others think is safe…

Dream more than others think is practical…

Expect more than others think is possible.”

I continue to live by these wise words.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 379

"Blind Faith," 38" x 58," soft pastel on sandpaper

“Blind Faith,” 38″ x 58,” soft pastel on sandpaper

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

Elaine’s and Bill’s [de Kooning] relationship involved a continual exchange of ideas that wasn’t restricted to conversations with friends.  In the quiet of their studio when they were finally alone, they’d climb into bed and Elaine would read to Bill.  Faulkner was a favorite.  She also read Ambrose Bierce’s Civil War tales.  And she would read Kierkegaard.  That nineteenth-century father of Existentialism wrote with great passion about the essential solitude and uncertainty of the human struggle.  They were words of consolation for Bill and Elaine who, though confident in their paths as artists, could not have been free of the nagging fear that they might spend their lives looking and never find what they sought in their work.  Kierkegaard seemed to say that it didn’t matter, that it was striving that counted, and he described the need to reconcile oneself to the unknowable that was man’s fate.  The artist, he said, had a crucial role to play in that regard.  Like a religious figure who was an envoy from a realm most people could not access, the artist through his or her work revealed pure spirit so that men mired in the bitter reality of daily life might find the strength to continue.

Mary Gabriel in Ninth Street Women

Comments are welcome!

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