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Pearls from artists* # 458

"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.

When I have painted a fine picture I have not given expression to a thought! That is what they say. What fools people are! They would strip painting of all its advantages. A writer has to say almost everything in order to make himself understood, but in painting it is as if some mysterious bridge were set up between the spirit of the persons in the picture and the beholder. The beholder sees figures, the external appearance of nature, but inwardly he meditates; the true thinking that is common to all men. Some give substance to it in writing, but in so doing they lose the subtle essence. Hence, grosser minds are more easily moved by writers than by painters or musicians. The art of the painter is all the nearer to man’s heart because it seems to be more material. In painting, as in external nature, proper justice is done to what is finite and to what is infinite, in other words, to what the soul finds inwardly moving in objects that are known through the senses alone.

The Journal of Eugene Delacroix edited by Hubert Wellington

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 455

New York City

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

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book (Lady Chatterley, for instance), or you take a trip, or you talk with [someone], and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.

Some never awaken. They are like the people who go to sleep in the snow and never awaken. But I am not in danger because my home, my garden, my beautiful life do not lull me. I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

Anaïs  Nin in The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 3: 1939-1944

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Pearls from artists* # 436

View from the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

View from the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

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

Cassirer’s partial definition of art as symbolic language has dominated art studios in our [20th] century.  A new history of culture anchored upon the work of art as a symbolic expression thus came into being.  By these means art has been made to connect with the rest of history.

But the price has been high, for while studies of meaning received all our attention, another definition of art, as a system of formal relationships, thereby suffered neglect.  This other definition matters more than meaning.  In the same sense speech matters more than writing, because speech preceded writing, and because writing is but a special case of speech.

The other definition of art as form remains unfashionable, although every thinking person will accept it as a truism that no meaning can be conveyed without form.  Every meaning requires a support, or a vehicle, or a holder.  These are the bearers of meaning, and without them no meaning would cross from me to you, or from you to me, or indeed from any part of nature to any other part. 

… The structural forms can be sensed independent of meaning.  We know from linguistics in particular that the structural elements undergo more or less regular evolutions in time without relation to meaning, as when certain phonetic shifts in the history of cognate languages can be explained only by a hypothesis of regular change. Thus phoneme a occurring in an early stage of language, becomes phoneme b at a later stage, independently of meaning, and only under the rules governing the phonetic structure of the language.  The regularity of these changes is such that the phonetic changes can be used to measure durations between recorded but undated examples of speech.

Similar regularities probably govern the formal infrastructure of every art.  Whenever symbolic clusters appear, however, we see interferences that may disrupt the regular evolution of the formal system.  An interference from visual images is present in almost all art.  Even architecture, which is commonly thought to lack figural intention, is guided from one utterance to the next by the images of the admired buildings of the past, both far and near in time.

George Kubler in The Shape of Time:  Remarks on the History of Things

Comments are welcome!  

Q: What do you enjoy the least about being an artist?

A recent view of the studio with works in progress

A recent view of the studio with works in progress

A:  It’s the fact that no matter how hard an artist works there is no guarantee that money will be forthcoming soon.  I work very hard at all aspects of being an artist, from creating pastel paintings and educating the public about what I do, to finding galleries with whom to partner, responding to interview requests, staying on top of social media, writing, etc.  Under-appreciation seems to be the fate of too many contemporary artists.

Comments are welcome!

Q: Walk us through your “typical day”?

Barbara at work on “Schemer,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 26” x 20”

Barbara at work on “Schemer,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 26” x 20”

A:  I’ll describe a typical day at the studio.  When I first arrive in the morning, I read for 30 minutes. Reading focuses and quiets my mind and gets me ready to begin the day’s work.  While I read, I look at the pastel painting that’s on my easel to see where to begin.  Then I close the book, turn on some music, plug in the Halogen lamps I use while working, apply a barrier cream to my hands, put on a surgical mask (to avoid breathing pastel dust), pick up a pastel, and start.   

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 the pastel painting looks from a distance.  I like being on my feet all day and getting some exercise.  I work for a couple of hours, break for lunch, and then work the rest of the afternoon.

I believe artists need to be disciplined.  I work five days a week, taking Wednesdays and Sundays off, and spend seven hours or more per day in the studio.  Daylight is essential so I work more hours in summer, fewer in winter.  I like to think of art-making as independent of time tables, but I tend to work in roughly two-hour blocks before taking a break.  I typically work until 5:00 or so.

Studio hours are sacrosanct and exclusively for creative work.  I do not have WiFi at my studio and prefer to keep my computer and mobile devices elsewhere (they devour time).  Art business activities – answering email, keeping up with social media, sending jpegs, writing blog posts, doing interviews, etc. – are accomplished at home in the mornings, in the evenings, and on days off from the studio.

Comments are welcome!

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

Comments are welcome!

Q: You had a terrific interview published in the July Issue # 44 of “Art Market.” How did that happen?

First page of Barbara’s interview in “Art Market”

First page of Barbara’s interview in “Art Market”

A: You know, my business strategy is to get my work onto as many websites as possible in hopes of eventually reaching the right collectors.  ArtsRow has not gotten me a sale yet, but wow, what press!  The print copy of “Art Market is gorgeous.”  I was stunned by the quality of the reproductions, the layout, and the fact that the publisher did not cut any of my 18-page interview!

This is how it happened.  I cannot remember if Paula Soito found me or vice versa.  Somehow we connected, I sent my work for her ArtsRow website, and shortly after, she asked to interview me for her blog.  Paula deeply connected to something in my work or my bio.  I may be mistaken, but I do not believe she asks many artists for an interview. 

As I do with every interview request, I enthusiastically said, “Yes!”  Paula proceeded to ask great questions.  I prepared my written answers to her questions as though I were writing an article for “The New York Times,” because once an interview is published, you never know who will read it.  And we had no word limits since the interview was being published on her blog, not in print.

So last spring my in-depth interview was published on Paula’s blog.  Sometime later she let me know that she had met Dafna Navarro, CEO and Founder of “Art Market,” and was arranging for our interview to be published there.  I thought, “Gee, that’s nice,” thinking there’s no way they will publish the whole article.  When I received my print copy in the mail I was thrilled!  Not only did my interview look great, but it was sandwiched between a piece about an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum and one at The Whitney Museum of American Art!  So, of course, I am sharing it with everyone and encouraging people to purchase a print copy.

You can read the full exclusive interview here on my website:  
 
Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 357

Udaipur, India

Udaipur, India

*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 term hermeneutics has been used to describe the task of understanding and interpreting ideas and texts.  In a similar way, we need to set for ourselves the task of developing a hermeneutic of the visible, addressing the problem of how we understand and interpret what we see, not only in the classical images and art forms created by the various religious traditions, but in the ordinary images of people’s traditions, rites, and daily activities which are presented to us through the film-image.

Rudolph Arnheim, in his extensive work on visual perception, has shown that the dichotomy between seeing and thinking which runs through much of the Western tradition, is a  very problematic one.  In Visual Thinking, he contends that visual perception is integrally related to thought.  It is not the case, according to Arnheim, that the eyes present a kind of raw data to the mind which, in turn, processes it and refines it by thought.  Rather, those visual images are the shapers and bearers of thought.  Jan Gonda, in writing on the Vedic notion dhi, sometimes translated as “thought,” finds similarly that the semantic fields of the word in Vedic literature does not correspond as much to our words for “thinking” as it does to our notions of “insight,” “vision,” and “seeing.”  Suzanne Langer has also written of the integral relation of thought to the images we see in the “mind’s eye.”  The making of all of those images is the fundamental “imaginative” human activity.  One might add that it is the fundamental activity of the religious imagination as well.  She writes, “Images are, therefore, our readiest instruments for abstracting concepts from the tumbling streams of actual impressions.”            

Diana L. Eck in Darsan:  Seeing the Divine Image in India

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 340

Lower Manhattan

Lower Manhattan

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, do you suppose, are the lives of those who raise themselves above the level of the common herd?  A continual struggle.  A writer, for instance, must struggle against the laziness which he shares with the ordinary man when it comes to writing, because his genius demands to be heard, it is not merely of an empty desire for fame that he obeys, it is a matter of conscience.  Let those who work coldly and calmly keep silence, for they have no conception of what it means to work under the spur of inspiration – the dread, the terror of rousing the sleeping lion whose roaring moves us to the very depth of our being.  To sum up:  be strong, simple, and true; here is an aim for every moment of the day, and it is always useful.

The Journal of Eugene Delacroix, edited by Hubert Wellington

Comments are welcome! 

 

Pearls from artists* # 305

About half of Barbara’s pastels

About half of Barbara’s pastels

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

When asked to talk about what I do, I’ve often compared writing with handicrafts – weaving, pot-making, woodworking.  I see my fascination with the word as very like, say, the fascination with wood common to carvers, cabinetmakers – people who find a fine piece of old chestnut with delight, and study it, and learn the grain of it, and handle it with sensuous pleasure, and consider what’s been done with chestnut and what you can do with it, loving the wood itself, the mere material, the stuff of their craft.             

Ursula K. Le Guin in No Time to Spare:  Thinking About What Matters

Comments are welcome!

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