Category: Leonard Greco Art

  Mentally, physically and spiritually I’m ready for home, to my adorable David, the beasties , our Little Hermitage,back to the studio ( in a new location ) and to our many many wonderful and supportive friends .
My time at the school has  revealed an elusive clarity ; how best to follow my path. And although I have felt a bit bruised at times and misunderstood , my doubts and any negative thoughts concerning my work magically evaporated last evening when my painting Genesis  won first place in the California Open exhibition at Tag Gallery in Santa Monica. If PAFA sniffed at my work, the validation from Jim Morphesis ( the juror an artist I ACTUALLY admire!) eradicated any lingering doubt and insecurity.  

As my sister Kat said , how many more hints must Heaven provide to see that this is your home?

  

My darling David with the delightful ( and lovely ) Melanie Newcombe, an amazing artist and dear friend and his date in my absence.

So westward I go with delight in my heart but I leave behind some amazing memories and wonderful new friends. Especially but my no means exclusively ,my studio mates Christiana , Sarah, Megan, Olivia, Camille, and dear Tony who fed my near daily addiction to art supplies at the in-school Blick. I shudder to see the bill.

  

Tony with the Antichrist.

Memories of Shabbas dinners with familiar and new friends; spending time with my dearest and longest friends  Gerilyn and Michael, on and on . But especially time with my incredible sisters Pamela and Kat and my mother.

I feel like a chapter is closing and an even more exciting one is opening. A few more wonderful days here with those I love best,then home with gratitude in my heart .

  As I conclude my time here at PAFA I’m left with three as-of-yet unfinished paintings and now one Minotaur doll. As I  stashed my brushes and packed away much of my paints I found myself confronted with a large pile of very attractive paint- smeared studio rags. I was loathe to just toss them as they were so pretty . 

So I took the logical step and made a rag doll- a first for me.
I immediately became calmer as I stitched away, listening to the radio and yesterday’s downpour . A cup of tea, Schubert and my dollmaking ; it was the most fun I’ve had since being here. I see stitchery being added to my studio practice, alongside painting, printmaking and puppet making.

My Minotaur looks handsome in front of my latest ( unfinished ) painting – I am enjoying this play of multi disciplines all going on at once. Supporting and inspiring one an another.

   

 

  As I near the end of this trip I’m still in a bit of culture shock ( strange given I am from the East Coast). First off folks here in Philadelphia tend not to be as warm as I am used to, at least not until they know you. In LA I am greeted with endless smiles almost  all of the time . I now find myself not smiling directly at folks on the street to avoid the scowl. 
Secondly I haven’t had an avocado since being here. Subway offers I grey mass that they call guacamole but I have resisted.

But most conspicuous to me has been sugar consumption ; across the board, across cultural lines I have witnessed what seems to me insane amounts of sugar intake . My morning ritual includes an excellent cup of joe at Old City Coffee. Consistently high quality coffee, that in my opinion needs only a splash of white stuff . But just this morning as I waited my turn, I witnessed a sweet faced Amish girl sweeten her iced caramel sugary whatever with three packets of added sugar ; the working class fellow after her put NINE packets of raw sugar in his small coffee; and the business man ahead of me poured an endless steak of agave into his Americano.

I was taken aback, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone use actual sugar in LA, fake stuff once in awhile ,in the most furtive fashion, but goodness …

Anyway, soon I will be home, to David, the pups, smiles and avocados.

Closing down my borrowed studio, rolling up the paintings and filling my time with drawings and people judging – I mean watching.

  I had my next to last critique this Friday and although I was anxious about it, it was in fact delightful and enlightening . The critic was the artist James Dupree, and although I wasn’t familiar with his work I have since come to realize what an excellent colorist he is.

 He is a charming man, very dapper and generous of spirit. When he entered my studio he let out a jolly laugh of delight- it made my morning .
He imparted wisdom in a spirit of generosity , not dogma. Direct suggestions such as which colors would make the work more powerful. Tools not theory ,exactly what I have been seeking.

Most  powerfully he reminded me that I haven’t much time , I must make, and to do that, I must in the end listen to my heart. He is a wonderful man, inviting me to his studio to see how he works . I will do that this week and with gratitude I will treasure the  pearls he has offered.

  

Of light and space I have as many questions as answers , light is said to define space and yet the work I so often admire ( such as this 2nd-3rd century sarcophogas relief panel ) defies the contemporary conception of “good ” composition.Yesterday I was reading a slim volume of Blake, specifically the Book of Job. I picked up this treasure for one dollar at PAFA’s library sale as they transition to  another floor- it’s a sad loss for the new space not to have this book, but my gain .

But looking at his Inventions as he preferred to call them ( I’m going to adopt that phrase as I have been told frequently by this school that I  am an illustrator and not an artist ; inventor seems a sly reply ) one cannot easily  sense a definite light or an obvious  sense of space . In fact quite the opposite , they are cramped with esoteric curiosities  and the most peculiar of light yet still the viewer is aware of being in the presence of a great and universal truth.

One of the criticism of my work, one that stung a bit because I am aware of my struggle with it, was one of light and space . And although I feel I have addressed that issue in other paintings my work here has had less of an emphasis upon those qualities.

I’m aware of this as I start yet again another painting . My last , quite wonderful critique with Patricia Traub concluded with the suggestion that I put aside the paintings I have been struggling with and start something afresh, freer and more joyful. Given that my spirit has been flagging and this program has come to feel an ordeal, I found that sound advice .

I approached the canvas with a light hearted spirit with my friend the Welsh artist Clive Hicks-Jenkins in mind . Clive no matter the subject always seems to approach his work with a smile . I wanted to channel that sense for no other reason than my own deflated  personal ones. 

The new painting , perhaps defiantly, once again seems to defy conventional /sanctioned/approved space , not unlike in my mind, the Roman example above ( or Master Blake). It is very much in the hatched stage and how light defines the space , if at all, is to be seen. But for now I’m seeing it through .

The program ends soon and I am overall pleased with the experiment , I feel better able to define my intentions and surprisingly , defend them. I hadn’t thought the need for defense existed but I see that isn’t the case. I had hoped to bring my interests to the table and had hope to seek  direction as to better express them. That hasn’t happened here with this critique program but I have been able to tap into a truer sense of myself.

Gratitude in the long run. 

I’ll conclude with my as of yet , sketchy painting. 

  And today’s progress.., 

 

  My life drawing session was cut short by an alarm , alerting us to leave the building at once  . Our pretty model had to hastily throw on her clothes as we rushed to the fire exits. In the end it was nothing but this drawing is left unfinished . I will blame it’s obvious flaws on the imaginary emergency .

  I had an EXCELLENT critique today , it couldn’t have been more in contrast to Wednesday’s. My critic, the artist Patricia Traub, upon entering my studio let out a delighted giggle . That really is all I could ask for .
In addition to our shared passions for animal rights ( you have to check out her work , it is mind blowing ) and LeBrun , she seemed to understand where I was going . As can be imagined this was deeply gratifying .

She felt my drawing to be very strong and assertive and for me to put aside the paintings I have been fretting over and to just draw.

She also feels my paintings need to be massive , along the scale of Benjamin West’s panoramic canvases – now to find that ever expanding studio space.

But for today I just drew , the above a work in progress .

Off to Shabbos dinner with a friend from LA, then tomorrow , more drawing . A good day indeed.

 This sculpture in the courtyard of PAFA is an apt metaphor for my dashed hopes concerning this place. I am preparing for another critique this morning , one might say girding my loins. I don’t think I need to fret too much, today’s critic is an artist who definitely does not adhere to the Smudgy Line School so revered here at the Academy.
But there is loss, loss of a romantic notion perhaps . What I have gained is a clarity of the direction I want to take and PAFA doesn’t seem to be that direction.

 To be told that when I am ready to learn, ready to obliterate all I have learnt and experienced and ready to be the empty vessel this experience seems to demand THEN they will be there to make me into a Serious artist.

Thanks, but no thanks.

I feel I dodged a very expensive bullet. Friends , many artists amidst the mix, from Berlin to Portland, have told me of their experiences of academies , of the academic promotion of a certain orthodoxy , of only being able to truly express their creativity after the process . I want to improve my technical skills but I have no interest in erasing what is essential to my work.

My last critic may have felt I needed to destroy my work in order to create the sublime ; I’m going to find another way.

Wish me luck.

After wandering around town in a daze , this is my retort to today’s critique :

  Now for dinner…

  
I’ve (we’ve ) invested quite a lot of energy ( and money) into my attending this summer critique program . Searching for direction and clarity in how and perhaps where to take my work and its development .This morning in a group critique led by the head of this program and a well regarded artist here ( and abroad ) , I had my moment of (ambivalent) clarity.

I had been wrestling with the issue of an academy , of how academies themselves  have wrestled with their own bias/preferences/ directions . Orthodoxy , though publicly decried , has a place here, and I suppose in every institution to some extent. Grand history painting and allegory may be chucked for dystopic nudes and the  lush color field but there is still an academic tradition that’s must be defended .

Today I felt at odds with that well defended force and now feel eviscerated. I’m not the first to feel this, nor will I be the last. But I’m left feeling where do the Misfit Toys go to hide? 

 Inward in my case.

Many valid points were made, the learning of basic tools such as light and space , all quite valid and attainable . Yet the prevailing ethos of “rawness”, “destruction ” and “randomness ” confounds me and sent me adrift . My clarity was that this is not the place for me; perhaps as a place to gain technical skills, which being self taught I am ( quite literally ) painfully aware of. But unless this place has room for expression outside of Guston, Richter and Carravagio with their robust forcefulness, it is a bad fit.

This quest for displays of rawness and random brutality ( with the ubiquitous drip of frenzied creativity ) has little appeal to me. The macho posturing of the Abstract Expressionists has arisen anew here . If I hear “muscular, juicy, raw, meaty” one more time I’m going to scream .

I sense on a visceral level that I just rubbed this critic the wrong way . I wasn’t an open enough vessel for him. His “positive”advice for me was to become acquainted with Bosch, Jung and Campbell. I explained that I am familiar with that Holy Trinity. 

That might not have pleased him. 

Plus my work is effete and theatrical, relying upon tricks of the stage at times . I get why such a Serious artist would dismiss it or have issue . 

My ambivalence is rooted in my being so self- taught and yet desiring more skill to better express my mystical dreamscapes . 

I know I’m not there yet, but I do know I’m developing my own vocabulary. One full of errors and missteps perhaps , but my own .

This artist suggested I discard the painting I’ve been working on and instead focus upon the Fish ( above ); THAT he declared was THE painting, in fact not the fish, just its eye.

 Silliness and the Emperor’s Finery.

I almost chuckled but instead scoffed,claiming that the weakest link of the painting is that element, that it is the most derivative  ( reminding me of a platter by Picasso) and certainly the least authentic .

I’m not ready to throw the baby out but the bath water is decidedly tepid and unpleasant at the moment . There is an artist at PAFA I sincerely admire , her work being singular and clearly her own. I’m going to reach out to her, if she is willing  and get her opinion as if this could be a good fit.

But at the moment I lament the money and time invested; also the letting go of a romantic notion.

Until next time, be well,

Lg