My colleagues and I spent Monday hanging Turning the TAP on. My thumbs are still a bit sore from forcing countless thumbtacks into chipboard. I have 46 works in the show, all of which are small paintings on plywood in ink, watercolour, gouache, or a combination thereof.
Read about the exhibition and the participating artists here: http://turningthetapon.blogspot.com/
Read more about the exhibition here: http://www.wsifineart.blogspot.com/
TAP gallery's website here: http://www.tapgallery.org.au/
The opening is tonight, Wednesday 17th November, 7pm, 278 Palmer Street Darlinghurst. There will be food, wine, music, and lots and lots of fine visual art.
This is mainly for my drawing and painting in ink and watercolour, ichthyology, and my thoughts on the products of creativity in general.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Rose in watercolour
A video I recorded in the studio yesterday of probably my favourite combination of tools and materials; waterbrush, xuan paper and watercolour.
The original subject was a cutting from a cultivar of rose I'm trying to propagate.
The original subject was a cutting from a cultivar of rose I'm trying to propagate.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Cultural Imperialsim (and miniworks)
I will be at the Hawkesbury Regional Gallery this evening (the 22nd) at 6pm for the opening of Alan Jones and Wayde Owen: Cultural Imperialism, which happens to coincide with the display of the selected entries from the Nepean Arts and Design Centre's 3D miniworks show, including my entry.
Also, a blog has been opened to coincide with my class's exhibition next month: http://turningthetapon.blogspot.com/
You may see us posing with our work and read our artist statements.
Also, a blog has been opened to coincide with my class's exhibition next month: http://turningthetapon.blogspot.com/
You may see us posing with our work and read our artist statements.
Monday, October 18, 2010
21st Century: Art in the First Decade
ABC Radio National is running a competition, 21st Century: Art in the First Decade - Major prize draw, 'tell us, in STRICTLY 150 words or less, why you think art matters in the 21st century. '
This is my entry:
Art matters in the 21st century as it always has. In the 21st century and for much of the 20th, humanity no longer cared enough about traditional fine visual art and never did care enough about modernist art for it to have any great impact on our society. The decorative arts are alive and well, home furnishings and decorations are always in demand, but traditional mediums have been surpassed in utility by technology. Fine art iterations of painting, sculpture and drawing have significantly decreased in their relevance to society as entertainment, edification, conceptualisation and record keeping.
The contemporary equivalent of classical fine visual art is film, television, animation, graphic design, newspapers, magazines, comics, advertisements, illustration, concept design, engineering, video games, and all other current genres of visual art whether or not described as fine. This constitutes the overwhelming majority of our species’ visual media and defines our culture.
********************************
And to give this post some visual interest, have a stag beetle.
This is my entry:
Art matters in the 21st century as it always has. In the 21st century and for much of the 20th, humanity no longer cared enough about traditional fine visual art and never did care enough about modernist art for it to have any great impact on our society. The decorative arts are alive and well, home furnishings and decorations are always in demand, but traditional mediums have been surpassed in utility by technology. Fine art iterations of painting, sculpture and drawing have significantly decreased in their relevance to society as entertainment, edification, conceptualisation and record keeping.
The contemporary equivalent of classical fine visual art is film, television, animation, graphic design, newspapers, magazines, comics, advertisements, illustration, concept design, engineering, video games, and all other current genres of visual art whether or not described as fine. This constitutes the overwhelming majority of our species’ visual media and defines our culture.
********************************
And to give this post some visual interest, have a stag beetle.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Tradition, creativity, and the contemporary artist
Does your attempt to be 'different', 'unique', 'innovative', or 'unconventional' enhance or detract from your work? What is your work meant to be saying or doing?
Traditional methods and mediums are conducive to the effective communication through visual language. They became the instituted standard because of their usefulness.
In the 15th century in Europe, oil paint came to be the pre-eminent medium of visual artists and remained so for the better part of five centuries until superseded in utility by mechanical reproduction and film. Oil paint allowed for the creation of more vibrant, more life-like images, which had greater appeal to human sensibilities.
Painting reached its arguable peak with Academic Realism in the late 19th century. Here, centuries of progress in occidental art practice culminated in a system of education that produced many of the most proficient painters and effective visual communicators the world had ever seen. If you wish to communicate visually through a single or small number of still images, there is little reason to pursue an alternative medium.
'Alternative medicine' is not actually an alternative form of medicine. By definition, 'alternative medicine' is an alternative to medicine, because it has not been demonstrated to work. As soon as a medicine is proven to work, it is incorporated into the extant knowledge of working medicine and it is no longer an alternative to medicine, it is simply medicine.
Similarly, alternative art materials are really just an alternative to art materials. If it was a useful, practical, effective material it would not be 'alternative'. It would be packaged and sold by Winsor & Newton in both premium and student-grade forms. If you could actually make good, useful artwork from it, artists commonly would. If you want to create two-dimensional or three-dimensional visual art but don't want to communicate effectively, by all means, abandon traditional methods and mediums.
Ars est celare artem is a Latin phrase that is variously translated as 'it is art to conceal art', 'art is the concealment of artifice', 'the art is in the concealment of the artifice', etc. This is to say that the means by which the artwork is created and the fact that it is an artwork, should not be made apparent to the viewer, that it should be concealed from them. Not that the form or technique of the artwork must be suppressed, but that the execution should be such that it is the content that engages the viewer, that the painting, the passage, the scene, the drawing, is temporarily forgotten and the audience experiences instead what it depicts. The viewer is not looking at a painting of a dog, but at the dog the painting depicts, not a drawing of a tree, but the tree, not reading a passage that describes sadness, but feeling the sadness described, not hearing a song that conveys happiness, but feeling the happiness the song conveys. In order to achieve this, the technique used to create the artwork must seem effortless and must not be obtrusive. A painting that sort of looks a bit like a person can't be the person it depicts, it can only be a collection of obvious artifice. A song played out of time, with missed notes, sung with off key vocals, can't be what the song attempts to convey, it can only be a poor attempt at music. Do we make apologies for poorly played music saying that it's the concept that's important? A burnt chicken wing doused in baked beans can't be a caille en sarcophage, but do we make excuses for it and pay a haute cuisine price all the same?
How can the concept of an artwork be it's most important or only component, when the artwork doesn't even effectively express its concept?
Ars est celare artem is analogous to 'suspension of disbelief', a phrase commonly found in reference to storytelling, and is in the same way integral to the success of an artwork. Suspension of disbelief occurs when an artwork - whether it is literature, painting, film, etc. - convinces the viewers to temporarily ignore the fact that they are experiencing an artwork and engage directly with what the artwork is conveying.
The onus for the suspension of disbelief is on the creator of the artwork, not the audience. It is not the audience's responsibility to ignore poor acting, to excuse wobbly cardboard sets, continuity errors, glaring incongruities with reality, or to fill in gaping plot holes. Likewise, it is not the audience's responsibility to attempt to claw meaning out of or thrust meaning into an obtuse, sloppy, vague, unfocussed, abstract, conceptual, exceedingly subjective or otherwise poor artwork. It is the artist's job to provide the content, the skillful delivery of it, to attract and engage, to communicate, to put the necessary focus on the important components and intended message and diminish the elements that detract from it.
Anything your artwork does to remind the viewer that he or she is looking at an artwork - rather than viewing the subject and the feeling created by your treatment of it - detracts from it. If you cannot conceal your artifice, you cannot suspend the viewers' disbelief, you cannot engage the viewer directly, you will not communicate to the viewer an authentic experience.
Furthermore...
As an artist you are more often asked about your influences from other artists, than for your influences from reality, or what it is you have gained from studying the subject. And if you haven't gained a deep insight into the subject through intensive study of it, how could you possibly expect to make meaningful artwork about it? If all you know about a subject, an issue, an event, is what you've been told third-hand by mainstream media or the shallow cognisance of popular culture or what you've borrowed from another artist's work, you are effectively ignorant and so will be the work you produce.
Perhaps it is better to not be influenced by other artists, to not borrow from their work, to not attempt to emulate their oeuvre, but to be influenced by the subject, the concept, the personal exploration of what it is you are depicting. The less you look at other artist's work, the more personal and original your own interpretation of the subject is.
If you want to paint an apple, you need to look at apples, study them, and develop your own visual voice in expressing the nuances of apples, not borrow from other artist's treatments of that same fruit.
Traditional methods and mediums are conducive to the effective communication through visual language. They became the instituted standard because of their usefulness.
In the 15th century in Europe, oil paint came to be the pre-eminent medium of visual artists and remained so for the better part of five centuries until superseded in utility by mechanical reproduction and film. Oil paint allowed for the creation of more vibrant, more life-like images, which had greater appeal to human sensibilities.
Painting reached its arguable peak with Academic Realism in the late 19th century. Here, centuries of progress in occidental art practice culminated in a system of education that produced many of the most proficient painters and effective visual communicators the world had ever seen. If you wish to communicate visually through a single or small number of still images, there is little reason to pursue an alternative medium.
'Alternative medicine' is not actually an alternative form of medicine. By definition, 'alternative medicine' is an alternative to medicine, because it has not been demonstrated to work. As soon as a medicine is proven to work, it is incorporated into the extant knowledge of working medicine and it is no longer an alternative to medicine, it is simply medicine.
Similarly, alternative art materials are really just an alternative to art materials. If it was a useful, practical, effective material it would not be 'alternative'. It would be packaged and sold by Winsor & Newton in both premium and student-grade forms. If you could actually make good, useful artwork from it, artists commonly would. If you want to create two-dimensional or three-dimensional visual art but don't want to communicate effectively, by all means, abandon traditional methods and mediums.
Ars est celare artem is a Latin phrase that is variously translated as 'it is art to conceal art', 'art is the concealment of artifice', 'the art is in the concealment of the artifice', etc. This is to say that the means by which the artwork is created and the fact that it is an artwork, should not be made apparent to the viewer, that it should be concealed from them. Not that the form or technique of the artwork must be suppressed, but that the execution should be such that it is the content that engages the viewer, that the painting, the passage, the scene, the drawing, is temporarily forgotten and the audience experiences instead what it depicts. The viewer is not looking at a painting of a dog, but at the dog the painting depicts, not a drawing of a tree, but the tree, not reading a passage that describes sadness, but feeling the sadness described, not hearing a song that conveys happiness, but feeling the happiness the song conveys. In order to achieve this, the technique used to create the artwork must seem effortless and must not be obtrusive. A painting that sort of looks a bit like a person can't be the person it depicts, it can only be a collection of obvious artifice. A song played out of time, with missed notes, sung with off key vocals, can't be what the song attempts to convey, it can only be a poor attempt at music. Do we make apologies for poorly played music saying that it's the concept that's important? A burnt chicken wing doused in baked beans can't be a caille en sarcophage, but do we make excuses for it and pay a haute cuisine price all the same?
How can the concept of an artwork be it's most important or only component, when the artwork doesn't even effectively express its concept?
Ars est celare artem is analogous to 'suspension of disbelief', a phrase commonly found in reference to storytelling, and is in the same way integral to the success of an artwork. Suspension of disbelief occurs when an artwork - whether it is literature, painting, film, etc. - convinces the viewers to temporarily ignore the fact that they are experiencing an artwork and engage directly with what the artwork is conveying.
The onus for the suspension of disbelief is on the creator of the artwork, not the audience. It is not the audience's responsibility to ignore poor acting, to excuse wobbly cardboard sets, continuity errors, glaring incongruities with reality, or to fill in gaping plot holes. Likewise, it is not the audience's responsibility to attempt to claw meaning out of or thrust meaning into an obtuse, sloppy, vague, unfocussed, abstract, conceptual, exceedingly subjective or otherwise poor artwork. It is the artist's job to provide the content, the skillful delivery of it, to attract and engage, to communicate, to put the necessary focus on the important components and intended message and diminish the elements that detract from it.
Anything your artwork does to remind the viewer that he or she is looking at an artwork - rather than viewing the subject and the feeling created by your treatment of it - detracts from it. If you cannot conceal your artifice, you cannot suspend the viewers' disbelief, you cannot engage the viewer directly, you will not communicate to the viewer an authentic experience.
Furthermore...
As an artist you are more often asked about your influences from other artists, than for your influences from reality, or what it is you have gained from studying the subject. And if you haven't gained a deep insight into the subject through intensive study of it, how could you possibly expect to make meaningful artwork about it? If all you know about a subject, an issue, an event, is what you've been told third-hand by mainstream media or the shallow cognisance of popular culture or what you've borrowed from another artist's work, you are effectively ignorant and so will be the work you produce.
Perhaps it is better to not be influenced by other artists, to not borrow from their work, to not attempt to emulate their oeuvre, but to be influenced by the subject, the concept, the personal exploration of what it is you are depicting. The less you look at other artist's work, the more personal and original your own interpretation of the subject is.
If you want to paint an apple, you need to look at apples, study them, and develop your own visual voice in expressing the nuances of apples, not borrow from other artist's treatments of that same fruit.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Invitation
I was tasked with designing the invitation for my class' exhibition next month at TAP Gallery. Here's two preliminaries.
I like the first one. It has a picture I drew on it. I had nothing to do with naming the show.
Here is the final design, it incorporates a segment of a work from each artist exhibiting. That includes you, Phillip. You are on the invitation, there is no backing out now.
Let me know if you spot any embarrassing typos on it.
Come to the opening on the 17th of November at 7pm. If you don't come, I don't think we can be friends anymore.
I like the first one. It has a picture I drew on it. I had nothing to do with naming the show.
Here is the final design, it incorporates a segment of a work from each artist exhibiting. That includes you, Phillip. You are on the invitation, there is no backing out now.
Let me know if you spot any embarrassing typos on it.
Come to the opening on the 17th of November at 7pm. If you don't come, I don't think we can be friends anymore.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Miniworks
Every year, the Nepean Arts and Design Centre holds an exhibition of works measuring no more than 15x15x15cm. In 2008 I entered several sculptures into the display of what ended up being 140+ works, if I recall correctly. Ten finalists were to be selected for exhibit in Penrith Regional Gallery at a later date, which didn't end up happening and they were eventually shown in the Hawkesbury Regional Gallery in 2009, along with that year's finalists. Two of my entries were selected, one of which was a ceramic bear I'd put a fair bit of work into.
Ursus arctos spelaeus sedentarius
He was underglazed, fired with a copper wash, and the claws are made of plastic.
My other selected work I entered at the last moment as a joke.
Adventure Brick
It's half a brick that I st- borrowed, with a crude depiction of half a brick flying through the air drawn on one face. Reference for the drawing was captured by throwing it in the air and taking photos of it, which was very dangerous.
In spite of the prestige it earned as a selected finalist, the many tales of adventure that could be inferred through its grass stains, and it's low price tag of $5, no one bought it and it remains in my possession. The public has good taste.
This year I submitted three entries, all derived from the small ink and watercolour paintings on plywood I've been working on, one of which was selected as a finalist and should be displayed in the Hawkesbury Regional Gallery at some point in the future. It's technically four works, 105x150mm panels that lean against each other.
The exhibition is still on display in C-Block, the ceramics department, of the Nepean Arts and Design Centre. You can read about the exhibition here, and view the finalists here.
Ursus arctos spelaeus sedentarius
He was underglazed, fired with a copper wash, and the claws are made of plastic.
My other selected work I entered at the last moment as a joke.
Adventure Brick
It's half a brick that I st- borrowed, with a crude depiction of half a brick flying through the air drawn on one face. Reference for the drawing was captured by throwing it in the air and taking photos of it, which was very dangerous.
In spite of the prestige it earned as a selected finalist, the many tales of adventure that could be inferred through its grass stains, and it's low price tag of $5, no one bought it and it remains in my possession. The public has good taste.
This year I submitted three entries, all derived from the small ink and watercolour paintings on plywood I've been working on, one of which was selected as a finalist and should be displayed in the Hawkesbury Regional Gallery at some point in the future. It's technically four works, 105x150mm panels that lean against each other.
The exhibition is still on display in C-Block, the ceramics department, of the Nepean Arts and Design Centre. You can read about the exhibition here, and view the finalists here.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Framed continued
The main attraction of our Framed project was to be a pair of photos, or thereabouts, per person, of or relating to the original works we created and briefly displayed in the windows of Lewers House.
I had no interest in photographing my ink painting in any way or context for display as a photo, and the day for shooting was a little breezy so unfurling such a large thin sheet of paper outside was unlikely to end well.
An insight into that day of photography is available here.
I decided on using a long exposure light painting technique I learnt last year and had success adapting to botanical photography, to depict the same subjects as the painting.
Light painting involves setting a camera on a tripod with the subject in focus, setting the parameters for a long exposure, then shining a torch over the parts of the subject you want to show up or be emphasised in the photo while the shutter is open. This allows for a very selective interpretation, but the technique is limited to subjects that are very still.
Though in its most common form light painting is just used to make a mess.
I initially wanted to recreate the painting composition by digitally combining several photos, but there were a number of obstacles preventing this. Light painting necessitates low light and the gallery grounds are not normally accessible in the evening. The staff had very kindly arranged for me to have an hour after normal closing time one evening, which I knew wouldn't be anywhere near long enough to photograph all the necessary specimens, part of the hour would be taken up by waiting for it to get dark enough. Half the plants weren't in the same flowering state I had painted them in. There is a lot of fluorescent lighting around the garden preventing light painting photography of many of the intended subjects. And we had decided on a uniform 72x52cm print size for all photos in the exhibition, which is not a ratio that would allow for a repeat of the same composition anyway. Also, I don't enjoy collaging so it's probably for the best.
Fortunately, the pond and one thicket of bamboo were in a position conducive to light painting so that's what I spent most of the hour shooting, usually with exposures of 4-8 seconds.
Xuan Bamboo I
The orange-red is from a street light. Over the road is the Nepean River.
Xuan Bamboo II
Echinodorus amazonicus
Named for the emerged growth of same plant. I grow several specimens in aquariums, as with many bog plants it has a different form of growth depending on its condition. Long spear shaped leaves and fine branching flower stems when emersed as pictured, a rosette of long blades propagating by plantlets along a runner when submerged.
The Echinodorus aren't a heritage listed part of the garden, the lilies are. Not sure about the duckweed. I was a bit disappointed that there are no fish in the pond, not even any snails.
The complete collection of photographic works in the exhibition can be viewed here.
I had no interest in photographing my ink painting in any way or context for display as a photo, and the day for shooting was a little breezy so unfurling such a large thin sheet of paper outside was unlikely to end well.
An insight into that day of photography is available here.
I decided on using a long exposure light painting technique I learnt last year and had success adapting to botanical photography, to depict the same subjects as the painting.
Light painting involves setting a camera on a tripod with the subject in focus, setting the parameters for a long exposure, then shining a torch over the parts of the subject you want to show up or be emphasised in the photo while the shutter is open. This allows for a very selective interpretation, but the technique is limited to subjects that are very still.
Though in its most common form light painting is just used to make a mess.
I initially wanted to recreate the painting composition by digitally combining several photos, but there were a number of obstacles preventing this. Light painting necessitates low light and the gallery grounds are not normally accessible in the evening. The staff had very kindly arranged for me to have an hour after normal closing time one evening, which I knew wouldn't be anywhere near long enough to photograph all the necessary specimens, part of the hour would be taken up by waiting for it to get dark enough. Half the plants weren't in the same flowering state I had painted them in. There is a lot of fluorescent lighting around the garden preventing light painting photography of many of the intended subjects. And we had decided on a uniform 72x52cm print size for all photos in the exhibition, which is not a ratio that would allow for a repeat of the same composition anyway. Also, I don't enjoy collaging so it's probably for the best.
Fortunately, the pond and one thicket of bamboo were in a position conducive to light painting so that's what I spent most of the hour shooting, usually with exposures of 4-8 seconds.
Xuan Bamboo I
The orange-red is from a street light. Over the road is the Nepean River.
Xuan Bamboo II
Echinodorus amazonicus
Named for the emerged growth of same plant. I grow several specimens in aquariums, as with many bog plants it has a different form of growth depending on its condition. Long spear shaped leaves and fine branching flower stems when emersed as pictured, a rosette of long blades propagating by plantlets along a runner when submerged.
The Echinodorus aren't a heritage listed part of the garden, the lilies are. Not sure about the duckweed. I was a bit disappointed that there are no fish in the pond, not even any snails.
The complete collection of photographic works in the exhibition can be viewed here.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Framed
Earlier in the year I took part in an exhibition called Framed at the Penrith Regional Gallery & Lewers Bequest.
My colleagues and I initially produced works to be hung in the windows of the Lewers House Gallery, which were to be site specific and reference Gerald and Margo Lewers, the history of the gallery and its location, Australian Modernism and Abstraction in general. The part of the gallery I like is the garden, so that's what I responded to. I think what I like most about the garden is that it's a bit of an eclectic mix of interesting plants which is probably similar to what I'd do with it if it was mine, heritage listed weeds inclusive, though the section planted with cacti including various Agave and a thriving Pitaya growing atop a whitewashed brick wall makes me think of Southern California.
I took a couple hundred photos around the garden, then spent an hour or two thinning them down to eighty I might like to use as reference, the following morning I had a strong enough sense of what I wanted to do and the specimens I wanted to depict I didn't end up referring to the photos at all.
Using a single Siberian weasel hair brush and black India ink on a 1.4x.7m sheet of xuen paper, I got to work.
Here is the end result.
It depicts my favourite part of the garden, a pond with lilies and Echinodorus, wisteria, which wasn't in flower at the time, bamboo, iris which weren't in flower, willow, and chrysanthemum, also not in flower, and some random grass to fill in the composition.
Here it is in situ, where it was displayed for the six days.
The works displayed in the windows for that brief period were only a precursor to our followup photography exhibition.
My colleagues and I initially produced works to be hung in the windows of the Lewers House Gallery, which were to be site specific and reference Gerald and Margo Lewers, the history of the gallery and its location, Australian Modernism and Abstraction in general. The part of the gallery I like is the garden, so that's what I responded to. I think what I like most about the garden is that it's a bit of an eclectic mix of interesting plants which is probably similar to what I'd do with it if it was mine, heritage listed weeds inclusive, though the section planted with cacti including various Agave and a thriving Pitaya growing atop a whitewashed brick wall makes me think of Southern California.
I took a couple hundred photos around the garden, then spent an hour or two thinning them down to eighty I might like to use as reference, the following morning I had a strong enough sense of what I wanted to do and the specimens I wanted to depict I didn't end up referring to the photos at all.
Using a single Siberian weasel hair brush and black India ink on a 1.4x.7m sheet of xuen paper, I got to work.
Here is the end result.
It depicts my favourite part of the garden, a pond with lilies and Echinodorus, wisteria, which wasn't in flower at the time, bamboo, iris which weren't in flower, willow, and chrysanthemum, also not in flower, and some random grass to fill in the composition.
Here it is in situ, where it was displayed for the six days.
The works displayed in the windows for that brief period were only a precursor to our followup photography exhibition.
Labels:
Lewers,
light painting,
low light,
Penrith,
photo,
shui mo hua,
xieyi
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Many stone fruit trees make excellent subjects for painting since they can have such interesting contrasts when in bloom. The plum is one of the four gentlemen of Chinese painting. There is a gnarled old lichen covered peach tree stump in the front yard of a house in my street, which had sprouted one single sprig of flowers for spring.
This was painted from memory in ink and watercolour on a 105x150mm piece of gessoed plywood. The second lower sprig and broken twig were added a few days later when I thought it would make for a better composition.
I took a photo of the subject a few days later using a light painting technique, which necessitated stalking about in the late evening.
I think maybe I should have included a few leaves in the painting which would have added to the contrasts, but they hadn't yet grown on the sprig when I initially observed it and the thought didn't occur to me.
This was painted from memory in ink and watercolour on a 105x150mm piece of gessoed plywood. The second lower sprig and broken twig were added a few days later when I thought it would make for a better composition.
I took a photo of the subject a few days later using a light painting technique, which necessitated stalking about in the late evening.
I think maybe I should have included a few leaves in the painting which would have added to the contrasts, but they hadn't yet grown on the sprig when I initially observed it and the thought didn't occur to me.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
First post
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