Showing posts with label art history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art history. Show all posts

November 16, 2016

Artist of the week: Susan Rothenberg

My first artist crush, Susan Rothenberg

Ah the simple pleasures of painting. All those gorgeous painterly brushstrokes! You feel and see her every movement on these canvases. When you stand in front of a Susan Rothenberg painting you become a witness to her very personal viewpoint, making it an experience rather than just a painting. She sets a stage for you to feel you are a participant in.

Thomas Micchelli
Rothenberg begins with negation, cleaving away all that’s inessential, then reaches forward and backward in time, gathering whatever she needs, probing inward toward formalism and outward toward experience, one hand in the clay and the other in the air.
In a career that spans over 40 years, expectedly there are some paintings I am much more in love with than others so here I present some of my absolute favorites...

Susan Rothenberg Dogs killing rabbit
Dogs Killing Rabbit, 1991-92, oil on canvas, 87 x 141 inches

"A lot of my work is about melodrama. I wait for Bruce to fall off a horse and then I go, 'Oh, okay, the horse’s legs were there, the fence post was there, his hat flew off there...'"

- Susan Rothenberg

Susan Rothenberg Accident #2
Accident #2, 1993-94, oil on canvas, 66 x 125 inches
Susan Rothenberg Calling the dogs
Calling the dogs, 1993-94, oil on canvas, 69 x 65 inches

Susan Rothenberg With martini
With Martini, 2002, oil on canvas, 76 x 87 inches

Susan Rothenberg Blue Flip
Blue Flip, 1989-90, oil on canvas, 55 x 46 inches

Susan Rothenberg White deer
White Deer, 1999-2001, oil on canvas, 91 1/2 x 112 inches

Susan Rothenberg Blue u-turn
Blue U-Turn, 1989, oil on canvas






Susan Rothenberg Galisteo creek
Galisteo Creek, 1992, oil on canvas, 112 x 148 inches

Susan Rothenberg Falling
Falling, 2001, oil on canvas, 84 x 72 inches


Susan Rothenberg Four color horse
Four Color Horse, 1976, acrylic and flashe on canvas, 67 x 112 inches

Susan Rothenberg 4 Kinds
4 Kinds, 1991, oil on canvas, 52 x 88 inches

Susan Rothenberg Dog and snake
Dog and Snake, 2004-05, oil on canvas, 49 3/4 x 36 1/2 inches
Susan Rothenberg Untitled (geese)
Untitled (Geese), 1999, Etching, aquatint, and sugar-lift aquatint on chine collé, 13 11/16 x 20 1/2 inches
Susan Rothenberg the corner
The Corner, 2008, oil on canvas, 71 x 57 inches
Susan Rothenberg Crying
Crying, 2003, 5 color lithograph/screenprint, 34 x 35 inches

Steak and Wine, 2000, oil on canvas, 81 x 91 inches



Susan Rothenberg painting
[I've searched all morning for the title of this painting. If anyone knows the image details please let me know]





Susan Rothenberg Hawk
Hawk, 1993-94, oil on canvas, 37 5/8 x 63 5/8 inches

Susan Rothenberg
Susan Rothenberg in her studio


Further looking and reading:
Sperone Westwater Gallery
art21
BLOUINARTINFO
MutualArt







Current Exhibition at Sperone Westwater Gallery
4 November – 20 December 2016
Susan Rothenberg




October 26, 2016

Ida Applebroog: Artist of the Week


Ida Applebroog artistMarginalia (Crawling Man), 1996, oil on canvas, 32 x 72 inches

Ida Applebroog: One of my favorite artists from what seems like a lifetime ago for me, when I was all about psychological performative painting. A fascinating artist who got a later start in the artworld, but has managed to successfully sustain it even up until now at age 86, Ida Applebroog is a huge inspiration. This was one of the most difficult artists of the week to post because she has so much work, I couldn't decide which were my favorites!


Ida Applebroog artist
  Modern Olympia (after Manet), 1997-2001, Oil on gampi on canvas, 4 panels, 73 x 148 inches

Ida Applebroog artist   Marginalia (goggles/black face), 1996, Oil on canvas, diptych: 16 x 14 inches and 14 x 18 inches


Ida Applebroog artist

         Marginalia (hand on forehead/squatting), 1996, oil on canvas, each 16 x 16 inches


Ida Applebroog artist

I'm rubber, you're glue, 1993, oil on canvas, 99 x 65 inches

Ida Applebroog artist
Winnie's Pooh, 1993, oil on canvas, 86 x 84 inches


Ida Applebroog artist
K-Mart village I, 1989, oil on canvas, 5 panels, 48 x 32 inches


Ida Applebroog artist
         Emetic Fields, 1989, oil on canvas, 108 x 202 inches


Ida Applebroog artist
Sure I'm sure, 1979, ink and rhoplex on vellum, six panels, 12 x 9 ½ inches each


Ida Applebroog artist
Sure I'm sure and the following two images are part of the provocative series of 10 offset books published and distributed by Applebroog from 1977-1981. She called them "performances" and titled them Dyspepsia Works
"Applebroog produced editions of 400 copies cheaply, and mailed them off to friends or acquaintances, or to artists whose work she admired. Eleanor Antin's postcards, graffiti by Jean-Michel Basquiat or Keith Haring, or Jenny Holzer's sheets of "truisms," pasted on bus stops, alongside notices of yoga lessons, kittens, or second-hand furniture for sale, are other examples of not-for-profit artworks, ingeniously and anonymously distributed, through which, without that having been precisely their intention, the artists all became famous."*
*from Art And Moral Dyspepsia by Arthur C. Danto found in Ida Applebroog: Nothing Personal, Paintings 1987-1997

Ida Applebroog artist

Ida Applebroog artist
  Thank You Very Much, 1982 (detail) ink and rhoplex on vellum, 7 panels, 10 ½ x 9 ½ inches each

Ida Applebroog artist
Tobias, 2005, unique digital photograph with mixed media on gampi paper

Ida Applebroog artist
Good Women (Bettie), digital outtake, 2005
Unique digital photograph with mixed media on gampi paper, 35 x 47 inches

Ida Applebroog artist
Monalisa, 2009, mixed media on canvas, 3 panels, 104 x 77 inches


Here's the article and image that inspired this post. Thanks Hyperallergic!
http://hyperallergic.com/329998/drawing-became-ida-applebroogs-means-communicate-outside-world/
Ida Applebroog artist
Mercy Hospital, 1969/70, drawing on paper


The exhibit Ida Applebroog: Mercy Hospital continues at the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) Miami through October 30. Call Her Applebroog, a documentary on the artist by her daughter Beth B, will screen at O Cinema on October 29.



Ida Applebroog, Installation view of Past Events, 1982

Creative Time's Projects at the Chamber, Manhattan 1982, was inspired by the dramatic environment of the Chamber of Commerce’s Great Hall, which is decorated with portraits of the great financiers from American history, all of them white. In Applebroog's installation, the artist made the walls “speak,” telling an unpleasant story of patriarchy. She placed a small bronze sculpture of a woman in the midst of the portraits and inserted a speech bubble into her lips that warned: “Gentlemen, America is in Trouble,” to which the portraits replied: “Isn’t Capitalism Working?” or “It’s a Jewish Plot.” The show proved controversial: it was removed twice in one month and eventually moved to a gallery. The artist’s response: “What did they think a woman was going to do in that space?”


Further looking and reading:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/19/arts/design/shes-her-own-artist-and-a-daughters-muse.html?_r=0http://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/19/arts/design/shes-her-own-artist-and-a-daughters-muse.html?_r=0

http://idaapplebroog.com/

http://bombmagazine.org/article/2235/ida-applebroog








October 17, 2016

Philip Guston, Who The Hell Wants Paint On A Surface?

Philip Guston painting
Philip Guston, Alchemist, 1960, oil on canvas, 61 x 67 inches

Philip Guston in an interview with Joseph Ablow 1966

"For reasons which I did not understand at the time... when I went into nonobjective painting or at least non-figurative painting, I felt I was even then involved with imagery, even though I didn't understand the imagery, but I thought it was imagery.

For some reason that is not quite clear to me yet, and maybe I don't want to be clear about it either, I was forced and pushed into the kind of painting that I did. That is to say that the demand, in the dialogue of myself with this, was that I make some marks.
It speaks to me, I speak to it. We have terrible arguments going all night for weeks and weeks.
"Do I really believe that?" I make a mark, a few strokes, and I argue with myself. Not "Do I like it or not?" but "Is it true or not?" And "Is that what I mean? Is that what I want?"

But there comes a point when something catches on the canvas, something grips on the canvas. I don't know what it is. I mean, when you put paint on a surface, most of the time it looks like paint.
Who the hell wants paint on a surface? 
You take it off, put it on, it goes over here, it moves over a foot. As you go closer, it starts moving in inches not feet, then half-inches. There comes a point, though, when the paint doesn't feel like paint. I don't know why. Some mysterious thing happens. I think you experience this, maybe in parts of canvases or something like that. If you can do it by painting a face or an eye or a nose or an apple, it doesn't matter. What counts is that the paint should really disappear. Otherwise it's craft or something like that."
Philip Guston painting
Philip Guston, Portrait I, 1965, oil on canvas, 68 x 78 inches







January 26, 2015

Taking Advantage of Art History

I'm currently reading a fascinating biography on Arshile Gorky.

Arshile Gorky

Arshile Gorky
One of the things I think is so interesting and that I'm discovering more and more as I read other artist biographies, is the reverence, devotion, and obsession in some cases, that these old great artists had for art history, and even for their fellow artists. Gorky walked around with a book on Ingres for years. De Kooning followed Gorky around for years even though it sounds like he was a real jerk to him before they became friends. And it seems like everyone from that 1930's era was completely fawning all over Picasso and his cronies.

Picasso in his studio

They copied each other, they studied each other, they knew every drawing and painting ever made. They became apprentices, and when they'd copied every single work they could, they suddenly emerged with their own voice and their own way of making things. Amazing.

Amazing because we don't do things that way now. I mean, we learn art history in school because we have to. We collect our heroes along the way, but I think one of the downfalls of my generation of artists is that we don't think we need those old great artists from art history. For some reason there is a whole generation of artists now who think they've invented the wheel and are actually making art that is that most ridiculous and impossible word of all... original.

I suffer from this myself. Not that I believe in originality, but I definitely do not hang out at museums nearly as much as I should. Outside of school assignments I can't think of a time I ever sat down and started copying another artist's work. I think maybe it's time.

Even at this point in my artistic life it still makes sense why it would be beneficial. As an abstract painter I'm pretty much dealing with the same issues that every abstract painter has ever dealt with. So why not take a few cues from artists who've already figured it all out?

Cezanne
I just need help figuring out whose work I want to copy...


Joan Mitchell

Picasso