Latest painting, inspired by story chanting, spell making, magic weaving and fairytelling.
Latest painting, inspired by story chanting, spell making, magic weaving and fairytelling.
The painting above was a bit long in the making, inspired back in October by a beautiful painting I so admired at the Art Institute of Chicago (link below) ; I knew I wanted to make a painting as visual arresting and as rich in allegorical detail.
As is so often the case concerning my work, I employ traditionally recognized allegorical symbols with a visual language of my own invention- frequently blurring the lines between the two to such a point that even I fail to comprehend them. I simply go into an automatic mode in painting , and then after the paint has dried, attempt to understand my own intention.
My fascination with narrative painting is frequently out of step with contemporary taste, more in keeping with 19th century norms, especially the intentions of the Pre-Raphealites, who, according to D.S.R. Welland’s The Pre-Raphaelites in Literature and Art (1953):”Their insistence on every picture telling a story was the first step towards the affiliation of painting and literature…”. That pretty much sums up my own aim.
Welland goes on to explain how the Pre-Raphealites created subtle “inventions”, highly esoteric images imbued and embedded into the painting with meaning elusive to the less informed public but to fellow Pre-Raphealites were capable of being “read”. As Ruskin points out (in discussing Holman Hunt’s The Awakening Conscience) that every subtle detail “if rightly read” can in fact accurately reveal the “story in it”. This blending of literature and the visual arts first led me to love the Brotherhood (especially the latter Burne Jones and company phase), and also to admire in general paintings admired for more than just their “plastic” qualities.
As I mentioned, I do not always know myself what I intend with my peculiar symbology. My poor husband David ,a wise and learned fellow and a sensitive and scholarly psychoanalyst , often simply doesn’t know what the heck to make of my paintings- leading to some hurt feelings on my part.
Fortunately I have a dear friend Sarah Parvin who possess such exquisite sensitivity towards art and art making (check out her Pinterest page The Curious One ,it is a treasure trove), fortunate for me, she can in fact, and does, “read” my “inventions” with the greatest fluency. The following is from my recent Facebook post, where after having posted this hard won painting, I received very little in commentary -good or bad. For a painting which you’ve imbued with such heart, silence which reads as indifference, causes no small amount of anguish. Sarah’s comments however were a balm to that anguish:
“I have spent the last few days looking at this painting, as you have given me much to wonder about in the magic circle of creation where artist and beholder meet. As an artist, you are never afraid to tackle both the sacred and the profane, but I will admit to being pleasantly surprised by the feeling of high romance that is blossoming in this painting. I am reminded of all that influences you in the art of Victorian and Edwardian Britain, although seen through your own visionary lens.
During this time of pandemic, I find much symbolism in Saint George exhausted from battling a terrible foe, as others helplessly watch, or choose not to look, whilst both death and the maiden wait close by. When I went searching for the medieval symbolism of your Field of Gold filled with glorious yellow roses and humble turnips, I found that Dante makes the best-known use of a gold rose as a Christian symbol in ‘Paradise’, seeing the whole of heaven as an infinite Eternal rose. The predominance of the rose as a symbol of divine love is evidenced by the many miracles that roses have played a part in which are far too numerous to mention here. A golden rose blessed by the Pope was offered as thanks to important friends of the Roman Catholic Church on the fourth Sunday in Lent, a day still known as Rose Sunday, whilst yellow roses denoted Christ’s majesty after the Resurrection, which was believed to be expressed in the flower’s fragrance. In sharp contrast, the turnip in medieval thought represented poverty, peasants, flatulence, foul smells and the greed and the vanities of the material world. In a year where we have shared a collective experience of a deadly enemy, where both the best and worst of humankind has thrived, I cannot help but view your Saint George and the Dragon as an allegory for our times.
In the UK we remain confined to our homes and neighbourhoods until after Easter, so I am intending to aim my sights towards your castle in the sky. In my wondering and wandering across your strangely verdant battlefield may I find the grace of renewal and I hope, on arrival, what will await me are better days.“
An artist really can’t ask for more.
So with those encouraging words ringing in my ear, I post further details of my “inventions”.
I will close for now, but given that it is Palm Sunday, I will close this journal post with today’s drawing honoring Christ’s triumphant ,yet fleetingly so, entrance into Jerusalem. Perhaps a few of my “inventions” might be “read”.
I am honored and delighted to have had two pieces of my work selected for the Royal Cambrian Academy’s Annual Open Exhibition 2021.
Currently the exhibition has been online, as so many exhibitions are during this challenging period.
However I have been in contact with the gallery and tentative plans are being made to have an actual opening. Fingers crossed I will be in Wales, a first, to see my work in what is for me its spiritual homeland.
The works accepted both deal with folk and fairy lore, deeply rooted in the Celtic imagination ; the first being Robin Goodfellow and the second being Goblin Market (inspired by the Christina Rossetti poem of the same name).
Given the possibility of the show actually going on , I need now figure out how to get these rather large works to Wales. I’ve been in conversation with the very helpful RCA staff and will be working with them through shippers here in LA. I am now researching my best options (any suggestions most welcome); making large scale works has its satisfactions but schlepping them about, particularly overseas, feels quite daunting.
It was a great relief and satisfaction earlier last week when I saw four of my works , carefully packed, pull away from the storage unit (where they have languished in the dark since my 2019 solo show Fairyland at MOAH/Cedar) heading forward in the nifty MOAHmobile to the permanent collection of the Lancaster Museum of Art & History (MOAH) https://www.lancastermoah.org
With our upcoming moves, this new chapter in our lives, a new home in Chicago, the sale of our beloved Little Hermitage, renting an apartment in LA, so much needed attention, a prioritizing of intention and a matter of settling affairs. I cannot deny that I know this next chapter, the Chicago period, is most likely my last. The previous chapters have been abundant and I have had the good fortune and opportunity to be rather productive; but that productivity , particularly the works I created for Fairyland
have been larger than my domestic life can easily accommodate (not to mention collector’s).
With this realization in mind, I have been determined to get my work out there, I’ve been encouraging collectors with reduced pricing on selected works (link above in Available Work), and I also want my work to be in permanent public collections. Having had the good fortune to have a solo show at MOAH/Cedar,https://www.moahcedar.org/exhibitions-1/fairyland
MOAH seemed a natural fit. Happy to say MOAH felt the same way, for that I am grateful . When I made the initial inquiry I felt quite nervous, a bit like the goofy nerdy boy asking the pretty, most popular girl to the prom. Thankfully the pretty girl said yes.
The works included were the first two offered, The Anchorite’s Armchair (2019) and Lilith,the Mandrake (2018), the anchors to my installation Embodied: St. Anthony & the Desert of Tears:
With these works enthusiastically accepted, I was gratified that there was interest in other works as well. With that in mind , two other pieces, another textile piece and an oil painting (also created for Fairyland) were selected :
So with that, its full circle.
I never really know how my work will be perceived, I try not to think about it. My work is earnest , often with a degree of what I hope passes for wit , but is never intended to be ironic . I work diligently and sincerely on all my work. Perhaps I am humorless, too dour , but I put my heart into the work.
So with this in mind I was taken aback by an emoji “comment” (is an emoji really a comment?) made recently on my Instagram page after having posted this recently completed self portrait. I really dislike facial expression emojis , I earnestly try to avoid them, trusting my command of language will properly convey my intentions .
Of all emojis the one I dislike the most is this one : 😂.
I find it infuriating. It seems to embody the moronification of society in general and Los Angeles particularly. To garner public approval most everything needs to be a joke – a sarcastic , mocking joke laced heavily with irony is most desired . And so this painting was received. I must put this in perspective, it was a single post , by an artist who from his IG site we learn that his specialty is “big dicks and wet c#nts”- so we are speaking of a quite the gentleman. But of course the gentleman in question possesses youth , is handsome , fit and talented in a Tom of Finland. He has well over ten thousand followers and to attest to his smug arrogance , follows no one in return . Oh , and he paints shirtless to better display his artfully paint be-speckled pecs.
I mention all this because my initial response to his puerile emoji comment was to be affronted. I even blocked him in my disgruntledness for a few minutes . But then I realized just how perfect this comment was for a painting, a self portrait, intending to skewer/reject worldliness . If I paint myself as a Holy Fool ,albeit in the self conscious irony I generally reject , I need to expect some hecklers . So from wounded-ness I now possess a degree of pride in having elicited a reaction from just the sort of shallow nincompoop Anthony sought to avoid.
This painting started out, as so much does, unintentionally. My daily studio routine generally starts with automatic drawing . I try to not focus on any particular reference material , or getting details “right”, just the free flow of ideas inspired from who knows where . Such was the case of this sketch made I am guessing close to seven years ago while living in San Diego – a difficult period in our/my life .
I hadn’t intended for it to be a painting let alone an allegorical self portrait, yet there was something about the dashed off drawing that beckoned further exploration. So a few months back I decided to revisit , revise the by now , quite familiar theme of St.Anthony of the Desert, his temptations and my appropriating his reality .
The painting went well nearly from the start , each element revealing itself to me , and in this period of plague isolation, quarantine an anchorite would find familiar and social unrest akin to third century upheaval , it felt a timely theme.
What follows are the details .
Seated upon a memento mori throne , I was inspired by a stuffed and stitched example I made awhile back for another Anthony inspired tableau- the circle continues .
Detail of accompanying figures that I haven’t particularly explored the meaning of : Hirsute Giant, Druidboy and Millefleur Boy ( a favorite).
Yesterday’s automatic drawing shares the theme of the painting , a memento mori reflection prompted I know by personal concern . David spent much of this week in the hospital, heart concerns , a procedure was needed , we were of course concerned. It appears all went well, fingers crossed , candles lit , novenas uttered , he will be on his way to good health. He is resting now , Viola a lackluster nursemaid , but he’s home .
There isn’t an emoji to express my gratitude.
Awoke this morning to a notification that my work (the painting shown) had been recognized by the Torrance Art Museum here in Southern California for their ongoing Hobson’s Choice. Hobson’s Choice is an online presentation of seven new artists per week, particularly encouraging and timely during this period of social isolation.
Thank you Torrance Art Museum for the support, personally and more broadly.
There comes a point that an artist just needs room, and storing works gets rather expensive, with that in mind I felt it time to actively try to offer my work to potential collectors. The link below will allow you to browse oil paintings, watercolor paintings, acrylic paintings, drawings, soft sculpted Stuffed Paintings-I will post more as I go through my files.
If you have any questions or requests for works not shown please don’t hesitate to contact me directly at firstname.lastname@example.org, I’d be happy to chat with you.
Link can be found on side bar under Available Work and here:
That darn anchorite keeps following me around, this time not so much in the desert but in a lush, abundant landscape inspired by the German Romantic painter Jakob Phillip Hackert (1737-1807).
It wasn’t really my intention to once again return to Anthony and his desert travails, at least not yet (currently more immersed in fairylands, bogles, goblins and pixiefolk). But in my studio, kicking about and frankly in the way, was a practice landscape from a few years back. I’ve long admired German Romanticism, particularly the dramatic treatment of nature, most especially trees. In the hands of a master like Hackert, trees are major players, singular beings rich in personality. I had hoped to better understand how these landscapes/tree-scapes were constructed so I set about copying one of my favorites, Hackert’s Italian Landscape, 1778.
It was a gratifying experience, in no way was I able to match Hackert’s luminous original, but I did learn valuable lessons in light, perspective and composition.
But then I had a painting that I wasn’t very interested in, wasn’t original, wouldn’t/couldn’t show, not particularly “good” and yet frankly too sentimentally attached to to just chuck.
So I decided to make it my own by reworking it in my own way. I’ve seen artists self consciously take thrift store paintings (rather annoyingly, seems a bit stunt-ish), works they mockingly called kitsch, and adapt them to their generally ironic purposes. This sort of practice is close to being a kitsch cliche in its own right but it started the wheels turning .
I’m not an ironic artist, nor did I think my painting kitsch, although granted a rather poor copy, but I was excited to reimagine Hackert’s poetic composition, eager to populate his pretty world with my imps and daemons. In many ways old master Jakob acted (unwittingly) as my collaborator. This latest painting the happy result.
I hope he would have been pleased.
As my composition is visually dense in the Boschian/Bruegelian sense, details follow:
This is the Master’s take, as you can see it is quite lovely, my copy so paltry in comparison. The wisest path was re-spinning my inferior version in my own voice.
In the end I am pleased, I made room in storage, profited from past labors and have a new painting I like quite a bit.
In 1769 the Royal Academy first set about creating a space for showcasing new works of art, two hundred fifty two consecutive years of discovering, exhibiting and promoting contemporary art to the public. The Summer Exhibition is the longest open call opportunity for artists of all rank to present their vision to the Academy and to the world.
That is quite an impressive feat.
Through the centuries this progressive mission became associated with an institution that might have seemed stodgy and which one rebelled against. I’m guessing all that has changed , I really do not know but for a boy growing up in New Jersey the tales of Varnishing Day, the glamour of opening day, the imagined pithy comments from Oscar Wilde, all created a siren’s call impossible to resist.
I’ve dreamt of submitting for years (decades) but hadn’t the nerve. I still lack the nerve but this year I submitted anyway. It wasn’t an overnight decision. At my solo show last year I met a British couple enthusiastic about my work, amidst their welcomed flattery they pulled out their phones and showed me glimpses of the Summer Exhibition 2018 fantastically curated by Grayson Perry, encouraging me to submit my work for they felt it would be right at home. It was exhilarating this thought, feeling so out of place in Los Angeles, adrift in where to next turn, it seemed a dream; this Royal Academy was FAR from stodgy, far from my conceived notions of what “academic” art was. This was a magical place of wild color, classical architecture, and wall after overcrowded wall of diverse and distinct art just begging for attention. I was floored. This was an oasis, far removed from the frequently tedious , muted, reserved, overly-curated, predictable gallery exhibitions found here in surprisingly conservative , tight-laced and conventional Los Angeles.
When we visited London for the first time last summer the RA Summer Exhibition 2019 was a must-see. I had already toyed with the notion of submitting after having seen glimpses of the Perry show but heading into solemnly magnificent Burlington House, situated in glamorous Piccadilly, in the very heart of London, then finding inside these impressive walls an abundance of art, art of all sorts, a staggering diversity of material, style and approach, all this sealed the deal.I was immediately convinced that I must at least try.
The long anticipated open call was announced this week on Monday. I was prepared and at the gate: all work freshly documented; a revised, suitably Anglophilic artist statement self-consciously composed; measurements and prices converted to metric and pounds. I was ALMOST confident. Nervously I typed in all the necessary information, exhibition submissions are always harrowing for me, but because this was so personally important it was especially so. But I soldiered on, all in order, all checked, double and triple checked, and then just when I attempted to pay the entry fee (entry fee is due before you can submit) I hit a wall, an unmovable glowing , unyielding wall on my laptop screen.
ERROR, error, error, unable to process. I tried again and again, rechecking triple checking every entry information, David checked, my publicist checked, we resubmitted, shut down, rebooted, cleared cookies and caches (whatever the heck they are), different browsers, computers, laptops, I-phones all to know avail. I contacted the RA support, they responded but the suggestions made proved unfruitful. I despaired, over-reacted, overwrought and self-pitying I was convinced I of course wasn’t worthy to even submit to the RA. I was such a loser they wouldn’t even take my money. In my pathetic state, eager to have them like me I became a Friend of the Academy…something I wanted to do anyway, but felt , hey, they’ll see I’m not some obnoxious self absorbed American. All absurd of course, it was some glitch, my rational brain knew this but I possessed such desire to just submit that I became quite abject in my disappointment and despair. It was resolved of course, my subsequent, pitiful emails were returned , a helpful assistant recognized the problem immediately and the Error message miraculously disappeared. With the error corrected (my fault of course) all was well, the submission window hadn’t suddenly closed in twenty four hours as I had ridiculously obsessed over, fees were paid, all was processed, entered, and the submit button nervously pressed.
The glitch? I had spelled out “California” instead of the required CA…damn California.
If I was irrationally anxious about the submission, I was irrationally proud of myself for actually having completed the task. The work that follows is what I, in the end , decided upon submitting. Perhaps not the wisest choices or most prudent, for they are large and unwieldy , and if the heavens allow and I am ,on the slimmest chance, shortlisted, the work will need to be seen up close and personal. This will be enormously expensive, but let me tend to that when and if it must be tended to. For now I will bask in the glow of an overly inflated sense of accomplishment.
I will receive first round results mid March …wish me luck.
I will close with a happy memento from our visit last summer , my Herakles and that Farnese imposter.
In anticipation of 2020 and various upcoming submissions I decided it was time to have some newer work better documented- the I-phone is a wondrous tool but it has its limitations in my hands. The following images are the result of a recent photo shoot.
I had this piece, one I like quite a bit, professionally photographed during my Fairyland solo show , but the in-situ placement offers visual distractions that a time-pressed curator most likely hasn’t the time for.
The following was shot twice, but honestly I cannot tell the difference, Version I:
and that is it…