Abstract Art

Naming abstract paintings

One can always resort to "Untitled No. 1 to infinity," but I prefer to give my abstract paintings names with a bit more poetry.  Sometimes a name just pops into my head, like "Sleight of Mind"  for this series:

Another one that I thought fit well was "Splash":

Sometimes a name comes to me from literature, like "Rocking Horse Winner," which is the name of a short story I loved by D. H. Lawrence.

Other times, a song lyric does the trick, like this phrase from a Leonard Cohen song, "What They Meant" :

Sometimes people find my art because they search for a particular name.  I sold a print of "Laughing Lotus," for example, to the owner of the Laughing Lotus Yoga Studio.

 

Artists explain their work in videos

More and more artists are making videos explaining their work or actually showing the process itself.  A new video I watched recently was by folk artist Mary Michael Shelley.  In the video, Mary shows how she carves her Americana subjects such as diners, animals, and rural landscapes.  The video was taken as Mary worked on her art at the Ithaca Farmer's Market.

I have made three videos explaining my art and posted them on you tube.  One video was made of my artist's talk at Hopper House in Nyack, New York.  The other two, explaining what abstract painting means to me, were made in my studio.  But I still have a lot to learn about making videos and hope to produce some better ones in 2009. 

Is Modern Art a Scam?

In my previous post, I discussed my reaction to watching My Kid Could Paint That, a documentary about 4-year-old art phenom Marla Olmstead and her family.  Last night I finished watching the film, and was amazed to hear Anthony Brunelli-- artist, gallery owner and promoter of Marla's work, say that he thought "modern art is a scam." 

Brunelli complained that it takes him months to paint one of his large photo-realism canvases, and yet the most he has been able to sell a painting for is $100,000.  Yet a modernist abstract painting might sell at auction for much more.  It makes you want to cry. 

First of all, the amount of time it takes to make a painting has relatively little to do with its actual quality or worth in the marketplace.  Let's take novels as an example:  it could take one writer ten years, and another ten months to write one, but that's now how we decide which one is better.  This is true in any of the arts. 

It may take an artist a day, a week, a month or a year to make a painting, but what about all the years of experience it took to gain the ability to be able to do it?  What about all the intangibles:  confidence, spirit, energy, color sense, and so forth, that go into the making of visual art? 

Later in the documentary, Brunelli calls Marla Olmstead "a genius."  Is she a genius because he's making a fortune selling her paintings, or has he changed his opinion about "modern art"?

My final reaction to the documentary was inspiration.  Marla made me want to get back in the studio and paint. 

Could your kid really paint abstract art?

I am in the middle of the documentary, My Kid Could Paint That,  about the 4-year-old painter, Marla Olmstead, and her family.  One thread the film deals with is the prejudice against abstract art because it seems so simple "a child could do it."  Another issue is whether Marla made the paintings herself, or had a lot of help from her father. 

In viewing the film, I wanted to see more of the art, but the documentary seems to be mainly about the story, not the paintings themselves.  However, if you go to Marla's website, you can see images of the actual work.  I just did that, and what I saw was colorful and energetic.

It's hard to judge the work independently, since I know a 4-year-old painted it (she's a couple of years older now).  Much of it seems immature to me, other pieces derivative of Jackson Pollock and others.  But I certainly wouldn't be surprised to see them in a gallery.  Then again, I wouldn't be surprised to see anything in a gallery.

Marla has obvious talent, and it will be interesting to see where that leads as she matures.  But what has really made her paintings sell for thousands of dollars is the fact that she is a child, her promotion by artist and gallery owner Anthony Brunelli, and all the subsequent publicity after her first show there. 

Happy Holidays from a Bipolar Abstract Artist

Whatever you are celebrating this time of year:  Hanukkah, Christmas, Winter Solstice, Kwanzaa, the New Year, etc., I wish you Happy Holidays!  With the world economy at such a low point, happiness may not be easy to find, yet we need to make peace with whatever is at hand.

As a bipolar abstract artist, my best way to get through this season is to keep working.  Otherwise, I am prone to depression.  We here in the US are having our shortest days of the year.  I've had bronchitis for a month, now finally going away, and I can never recreate the wonderful Christmases I had as a child. 

My daughter Blixy and her children are coming over later to celebrate Hanukkah with Adrian and me.  Tomorrow we are going to my sister Laura's to spend Christmas with her family.  It will all be fine, yet I know I will be disappointed.  That is the nature of this season for me.  Understanding myself helps, it really does.

For those of you who are also disappointed, take this time to do something creative.  If you are an artist, make art.  Make music.  Dance.  Write.  Build something.  

I always spend part of the end of the old year reviewing my life and thinking about what I want for the next year.  This is a common tradition and perhaps a cliche, but still a valuable exercise.  It gives us hope of renewal and a promise to ourselves to follow our best inclinations instead of our worst. 

When is an abstract painting finished?

Sometimes it is obvious when an abstract painting I'm working on is finished.  It just feels right in all respects:  balance, color, movement, all seem to work well.  But I make a final judgment when I hang the painting on a white wall to photograph it. 

Sometimes I need to let the painting sit for a day or two, to take another look.  I may have liked it when I stopped working on it, but coming back to it with a fresh look tells me it is not quite ready.  Then I will continue working.

The fear of continuing to work on a painting is that I might ruin what I already have.  But I have to get past that fear in order to find something even better. 

Occasionally, I might revisit a painting weeks or months after I've painted it.  In that case, when I repaint, I come up with a totally new painting.  Or a mess that I have to throw away.

Yesterday, I worked again on Canvas 49, and I like what I have.  I even signed it:

  Canvas 49, 40" x 40"

Abstract Painting vs. Drawing

In this new group of abstract paintings I'm working on, I'm using a lot of thin lines, drawing with a tube of paint that has a cap screwed on the end.  It is like decorating a cake: you squeeze the paint out of the tube as you draw. 

I've always like to include line in my paintings, but in this group I am utilizing the technique much more, using the drawn lines to contradict, emphasize, and multiply the underlying background images.  It's a style I used many years ago, and I am enjoying revisiting it. 

Here is Canvas 49, which I will continue to work on:

  Canvas 49, 40" x 40"

Bipolar Artist

As a facilitator and member of a bipolar support group, I know that many of our members want to keep their mental illness a secret.  Some have already been punished by employers when they were open about it.  But as an artist, I don't feel the label "bipolar" or "manic depressive" hurts me at all.

In fact, being a bipolar artist fits many people's stereotype of what an artist is:  a madman/woman whose creativity is enhanced by her mental illness.  Now, that makes it easy for me to "come out" as bipolar, because it's not going to hurt sales of my paintings.  

But a more important reason to be open about having a mental illness is to help fight the prejudice people have against us.  There is no reason not to hire us, befriend us, date us, or marry us.  We may have some special needs, but so would an employee who was deaf, blind or handicapped in another way.  And surprisingly, many of us with mental illness have no special needs at all.  We are managing our illness fine, thank you.

One of the artistic advantages of being bipolar, is that during our hypomanic state, we are filled with energy, enthusiasm, confidence and creativity.  This is a state we would all like to be in forever, but unfortunately, it too often leads to full-blown mania for some, and depression for others. 

For more information on bipolar disorder, check out the NAMI (National Alliance of Mental Illness) website.   A good book about creativity and bipolar disorder is Touched with Fire by Kay Redfield Jamison.

Revisiting Canvas 47, aka "Modern Art"

I had already signed this canvas and thought it was finished, but the more I looked at it, the more I felt it still needed to be stronger.  After spending all morning on it, I think it is now "done":

  Modern Art, 44" x 44"

Of course, tomorrow I could change my mind. 

 

Putting finishing touches on abstract painting

I put the finishing touches on my latest abstract painting :

  Sun Story, 48" x 48"  

I'll take one more look before I sign it, then check the top and bottom of the canvas in case more is needed on these edges. 

I'm still coughing a lot with my bronchitis, and the antibiotics I am taking don't seem to be helping.  I just walked down to the mailbox (at the end of our private road), and that was an effort in the cold.

Adrian has been away for a week, but is coming back tomorrow night.  I'll be glad to see him--I've been stuck in this house alone for too long.