Goblin Market, the evolution of a painting

“Goblin Market”
2017
oil on canvas
48 by 60 by 2 inches

I finished this painting several weeks ago, but needed to step away from it a bit, literally and figuratively. It is a large painting and that is the direction I would like to take with my studio practice. This painting is in many ways the impetus for my moving studios. I’ve simply run out of room at my charming current studio.

1053 Colorado Bld., unit H, LA

But this has been a long journey, nearly two years, from bringing what had been a seemingly simple response to Christina Rossetti’s incredible poem of the same name, a simple pencil sketch, to this large canvas. 

Before heading off for Philadelphia in the summer of 2015 I made this sketch, dashed it off really. 

Initial concept sketch for “Goblin Market”

I was entering a summer program at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and I hadn’t really any concept of how to focus my time. Materials needed to be shipped and I felt overwhelmed logistically. Plus I suffer emotionally from being separated from David and the pups.

I’ve posted before about the PAFA critique program, at times bitterly, but in hindsight I realize how unprepared for the experience I actually was. I now feel, a few years later, that I could approach the experience with more confidence and intentionality (is that a word??).

Perhaps some other summer.

City Hall, Philadelphia, PA

Without a real game plan I decided pretty much on board the plane that Goblin Market was to be my next project for the summer. Part of what I had hoped for with the critique program was to loosen up mentally and creatively, and my little sketch , which I had so enjoyed drawing, would launch me in the right direction. Or so I hoped.

 The following are some sequential images of its making.

Day 1, @ PAFA
Day 2 PAFA
Day 3, PAFA

 

I pause here because this is where strife began between me and the program director , she insisting that this was a finished work, and I insisting it wasn’t. I envisioned a more polished painting and she wished to “free” me from what she perceived were constraints . Again, in hindsight, I feel I could now express my intentions with more clarity, but at the time I felt crushed and confused.

I persevered but warily.

This image is where I left it at PAFA, unable to finish , I rolled it up, threw it on the plane and allowed it to languish in my studio. I tried avoiding it frankly. Then, in 2017 I decided I needed to face the painting once again.

I’ve tweaked it a bit since this next image, but I now believe it to be finished…for now.

 

“Goblin Market”
2017
oil on canvas
48 by 60 by 2 inches

I have a solo show coming up in July, its a small show ( Goblin Market will most likely make its debut), a gallery within a showroom I enjoy showing in. I am excited. It is my first solo show and in many ways it is a clarifying experience.

I’m grappling with what I want to say as an artist and as a person . What is my contribution in this dialogue of life. The window we are given is open ever so briefly, and as I feel  I have only just recently entered into myself, I desire to do so fully.

My show will be called “Fairyland”. It is a concept I wish to explore in depth; I will be putting together more extensive proposals for other solo shows, so this show in July is the model.

The following is a revised statement for “Fairyland”:

“At this stage of my life, off center of a century, I am grappling with ways in which to express my “being-ness”. Unable to avoid the “who am I “ question any longer, I find myself ,as a visual artists reaching beyond my usual studio practice of oil painting into diverse disciplines including figures in the round.The figures are essentially dolls, and are fashioned by fully embracing the pre-conceived sissy element of this art. It is in this extension of my practice that I am exploring, at this late stage, my identity as a queer and terrified man; the specter of the pansy boy I was, being given new voice in my latest ongoing project “Fairyland”. It is in this new series of projects , where paint, needle and thread give expression and validation to a long suppressed self loathing.

The very name “Fairyland”, a word once delivered with bloody blows transcends beyond with a message of empathy, compassion. pride, and I hope , humor. Reclaiming the fairy has been empowering. The art I attempt to create is intended to express the spirit of furtive repression breaking free.”

This is a  FB link to the show:

https://www.facebook.com/events/1913134738968077/?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A%222%22%2C%22ref_dashboard_filter%22%3A%22upcoming%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22[%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22dashboard%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22main_list%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A[]%7D]%22%7D

 

Hadesville…in living color

I finished this painting a few weeks ago but waited to post until I had it professionally photographed. My friend, the photographer Steve Daly just sent over this image  (and that of Seizing Sanctimonium) and I couldn’t be more delighted. So thanks Steve!

greco_3_wrk_1_2

Hadesville

2016

oil on canvas

56 x 34.5 x 1 inches

I mentioned the intent of this painting in the previous post but in a nutshell this foolish image sums up my feelings, if these are the folks in heaven, give me hell any day!

14291648_10154418478283936_6697630946175038211_n

This is the new image of Seizing Sanctimonium , again, I’m very pleased.

greco_3_wrk_2_2

Seizing Sanctimonium

2016

oil on canvas

56 x 40 inches

So these two are my retort against the smug and the sanctimonious who feel they alone hold the keys to the divine. From what I have born witness to the still seem to be struggling. I think I will stay on my path.

greco_3_wrk_1_2

 Some detail images follow:

14581487_1108490929258934_316781207879986777_n

14067593_10209826630052030_7680280672026195886_n

14264826_10209993709628915_4714655681655426736_n

14212048_10209903192406041_5961195263314161228_n

14291637_10209975663057762_1252275216625001303_n

14141682_10209864970410515_3551276126833444692_n

Yet Another St. Anthony

My passion for the anchorite St. Anthony never seems to abate. Another composition for perhaps another painting. I have many to choose from…

IMG_9246

Temptation of St. Anthony of the Desert

2016

pencil on paper

18 by 24″

Details follow:

IMG_9245

Anthony and his guardian Wodewose-Greenman

IMG_9244

Herakles and Ophelia

IMG_9246

The Temptation of St. Anthony (of the Desert) at the St. Mark’s Baths

IMG_9055

After the Orlando massacre a few weeks back I have been giving thought to my past, particularly my youth and what a miracle it is that I am here today. Lets say the theme of  Memento Mori is my day to day soundtrack of late. 

My youth was a turbulent period, my parents were furious at my being gay and  they regularly changed the locks after tossing my  meager belongings out onto the lawn.  Their  flashes of temper left  me homeless for periods of time, sometimes a few days, sometimes weeks. Often I would just float around , I had a large car, a Chevy Impala, it was an ugly beast but it was commodious; frequently it sufficed as the roof over my head.

This was the early years of the 80’s and with the little cash I scratched together  I would head north; NYC beckoned me away from that shit-hole in NJ.  And like many suburban gay boys I  fantasized about that city, I picked up copies of the now defunct Soho News, the Village Voice, Interview magazine, fantasizing about this paradise only a train ride away. I imagined living in this fantasy  loft, with beautiful pine floors and expansive windows, “artistic” furniture and of course Boston ferns. Boston ferns were not negotiable .

But of course that was not my reality, I was poor and  not that cute in a city of incredibly beautiful people and my only real companion was an on again- off again drunk drag queen named Leo, her drag name Leonora- perfect Lenny and Leonora.  What a pair we must have made.  

Leo was only six years older I have just discovered but gosh, I thought he was so mature, so experienced. He had BEEN to Broadway, had been  to the Met(both the opera house and the museum), the ballet, he knew everything . He was an introduction to a level of sophistication I hadn’t imagined. On our first encounter he bought me the cast recordings to “Dreamgirls” and “Evita”,both spectacular hits. I hadn’t a stereo or even a home at that point but they were totems of a life I so desired.

But Leo as sophisticated as he was, as genteel as he was, was also very familiar with the sordid (yet exhilarating) aspects of the city. We went to the nightclubs if they were free, the lights flash now in my memories , one blur after another. But what Leo enjoyed most was going to the baths. And really they were perfect, they were cheap, all you had to do was buy a towel and you were in…for hours, until dawn. Leo would buy his towel, often if he was flush, buy mine as well, kiss me goodbye, tell me where and when to meet up, and off he went. I can remember still how he draped his towel, he tucked it up well over his chest, inching it as if he had breasts, pushing them together to imitate  a cleavage he didn’t possess . I often wondered what the hell he was doing, here in this hyper masculine world , here he was sashaying like some peculiar version of Marilyn Monroe. Yet he was popular.

I was not, I was an invisible boy, goofy, plain and confused . Also I was exhausted. What I often found myself doing was falling asleep. I wasn’t deliberately chaste, I just wasn’t chased. So as I was too broke to buy drinks and afraid of the drugs around me, I found myself falling asleep in the oddest of places, the orgy rooms of the bath houses. I think my unpopularity saved my life. Leo would be dead in less than a decade, and so would pretty much anyone else I knew in this strange  wonderful new world. But I survived, and that , I have been thinking about of late. How when I was a young kid,as young as many of those kids in Florida,  how I desired  to attract the attention of the  many beautiful gods  that surrounded me, only a few feet away yet I remained invisible. I was lucky.

That is what I wanted to capture in this drawing, that confusion, that dizzying excitement, the pagan energy, that now is only a shadowy memory. Elusive as a lost soul.

IMG_9055

The Temptation of St.Anthony (of the Desert)in the St.Marks Baths

2016

sanguine pencil on paper

18 by 24″

It is of course a dense image one full of meaning but what is most significant at least to me is the image of the saint, who resembles a younger me, the clown like figure in the lower right; the skeletal figure in the mask is my dear friend Leo soon to be almost as ruined as this figure I depict. 

IMG_9055 (1)

 

I haven’t much from that period, the LP’s Leo gave me our long gone, the cliched pink flamingo statuettes he bought ( even though I essentially lived in a car) long broken, but I still have the post card from The New Saint Marks Baths, it captured the glamour and excitement of that place then and now years later, it still does .

IMG_9047

An odd bit of ephemera to a period long past.  I can’t think about it anymore…

Have a good Independence Day

Of Vermin and Fig Leaves

flea w fig

As I attempt to develop some sense of presence of myself as an artist, I find myself turning to social media. Be it Instagram, Facebook, Twitter or this studio journal, I am becoming increasingly aware of what is and what is not appropriate to post. As much of my work depicts nudity, posting full-frontals has the potential of censorship.

 My latest paper doll-jumping jack Self Portrait of the Artist as a Flea is unabashedly nude. The nudity was a big “fuck you”  to the bigots and the nasty folks who hate us , particularly important  after the Orlando massacre. Queers have been treated like vermin for so very long, by fashioning myself as a flea I embrace what they find so vile.

That sort of righteous anger is all well and good but will it work on my Instagram feed?

Hence the fig leaf.

Now for the sans fig leaf.

flea without

Self Portrait of the Artist as a Flea 

2016

pencil and watercolor on paper, brads and string

22″ high by 16″ wide

He is a funny character, when he jumps he twitches awkwardly, I like him a lot, just not sure which I prefer, the figged figgy or the unfigged (we call fleas “figgys” in our house).  

A problem with nudity is of course not new and I had my encounter with censorship a few years back when the city of Encinitas CA refused to hang my painting Gnosis and the Old Gods Were Pleased unless the female character was made more discreet – for some reason the male junk seemed a-ok. 

greco_gnosis_and_old_gods_pleased

Gnosis and the Old Gods Were Pleased

An artist I admire quite a bit , Milo Reice ( link to his site: http://miloreice.com/MiloReice/intro.html) who I discover happens to be a neighbor, has explored censorship and the fig leaf archetype in his own work. In his words  concerning the following image :

“A detail of a recent work of mine where I was lampooning censorship- underneath everything is thoroughly painted – the appliqués held on with magnets”

 A brilliant solution to a vexing problem by a magnificent artist. Check out his website above!

13407046_10209728556472774_7440888025950508672_n

Of course there are times when foliate discretion adds to the allure as in Canova’s  hunky Mars, who in this 1822 sculpture Venus and Mars. One rarely encounters such provocative undergarments outside of a go-go boy club.  

Venus and Mars. Antonio Canova. Italian. 1757-1822

Antonio Canova

Venus and Mars 

1822

But so it, perhaps an ostentatious fig leaf is in order. If so, I am in fine company. My boyhood hero introduced a ridiculously over sized fig leaf to the  ephebe valet  in his Enter Herodias ( from a Salome folio, first published in 1894) after  there was criticism to the boy’s boy-bits. Not sure which image is more profane ; not to mention the grotesque  fetus-like attendant with his enormous boner.

Without the fig:herodias

and with:

E.430-1972 Salome, Plate IX- Enter Herodias from a portfolio of 17 plates; by Aubrey Beardsley (1872-98); published by John Lane; English; 1907. Line block print.
E.430-1972
Salome, Plate IX- Enter Herodias from a portfolio of 17 plates;
by Aubrey Beardsley (1872-98);
published by John Lane;
English; 1907.
Line block print.

Both are delightfully perverse, horny candle sticks and dear Oscar as master of ceremonies. Source:http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1110742/enter-herodias-a-portfolio-of-print-beardsley-aubrey-vincent/

I want to close with a beautiful prayer to the queer and the unwanted. In the aftermath of the Orlando shooting the internet was awash with support and queer empowerment . This prayer by  Mark Aguhar, who apparently killed him/herself ( I believe the author was transgender) wrote this beautiful Litany to my Heavenly Brown Body. I need to research Aguhar more thoroughly but felt it a fitting close to this post.

Mark Aguhar, %22Litanies to My Heavenly Brown Body%22

Daily Sketchbook

I’ve been challenging myself with a commitment to my sketchbook, random images, most from source material that has delighted me. In no particular order, a few follow…

13256357_10209084108089445_6071102484541777990_n

1936159_10208970598051765_972566682705693509_n

13083318_999014490184405_8819700991286879001_n

13124524_10208941587406517_2274048969638197787_n

13165869_10208977284618925_3629056678485484423_n

13165923_10208946905699471_652254974067363258_n

13178950_10208999411052072_7896657464042399911_n

13239969_10209070304584366_3660268311785924983_n

a silly musing, I think this is what I do best, in the natural sense

13267789_10209049339580254_6293566207349031379_n

Christ enthroned 2016
Christ enthroned 2016

In the Flesh

 

 

My life drawing course with the excellent Jim Morphesis  (link to his work: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/john-seed/jim-morphesis-the-wounds_b_7014096.html )

sadly ended Tuesday. I will miss the experience of having an actual body, in the flesh, in front of me. I benefit keenly, even if the results aren’t immediately apparent, from a live model and consistent and structured practice.

That said, in the stacks  of drawings made in this class , very few were worth much more than parakeet liner. And from the rest, only bits and pieces satisfy me.

But one of the issues I am working on is abandoning this mad quest for perfection, I fail miserably each and every time.  So relinquishing the claims of my ego, I post  some of the drawings from Art 12A ; some from extended poses, some gesture drawings (gestural drawings drive me bonkers). 

IMG_8625

IMG_8624

 

img_8104

IMG_8640

IMG_8639

IMG_8638

IMG_8623

IMG_8622

IMG_8617

IMG_8616

IMG_8613

IMG_8611


IMG_8607

IMG_8606

IMG_8604

IMG_8608

So now with class ended I will join other forums and study groups…plus I always have myself!

IMG_8496