Showing posts with label artist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artist. Show all posts

June 24, 2018

the patience of making art


Thank you Brainpickings for posting this this morning:


Rilke on the Lonely Patience of Creative Work


“The most regretful people on earth,” the poet Mary Oliver wrote in contemplating the artist’s task and the central commitment of the creative life“are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”
That is what Rainer Maria Rilke (December 4, 1875–December 29, 1926), another great poet with a philosophical bend and uncommon existential insight, explored a century earlier in the third letter collected in his indispensable Letters to a Young Poet (public library) — the wellspring of wisdom on art and life, which Rilke bequeathed to the 19-year-old cadet and budding poet Franz Xaver Kappus.
1902 portrait of Rainer Maria Rilke by Helmuth Westhoff, Rilke’s brother-in-law
Rilke’s first letter to his young correspondent had laid out his core ideas about what it takes to be an artist. Building upon that foundation in the third letter, he echoes his contemporary Franz Kafka’s assertion that “patience is the master key to every situation” and considers the master key to the creative life:
Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of spring without the fear that after them may come no summer. It does come. But it comes only to the patient, who are there as though eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly still and wide. I learn it daily, learn it with pain to which I am grateful: patience is everything!
The patience of making art is a lonely patience — one that demands the solitude essential for creative work, be it art or science, so widely recognized by creators across time and discipline. “Oh comforting solitude, how favorable thou art to original thought!” wrote neuroscience founding father Santiago Ramón y Cajal in considering the ideal environment for intellectual breakthrough“Nourish yourself with grand and austere ideas of beauty that feed the soul… Seek solitude,” Eugene Delacroix counseled himself as a young artist in 1824. “Solitude, a rest from responsibilities, and peace of mind, will do you more good than the atmosphere of the studio and the conversations,” the young Louise Bourgeois counseled an artist friend in the following century, just as the poet May Sarton was exulting in her sublime ode to solitude“There is no place more intimate than the spirit alone.”
Art by Isol from Daytime Visions
Rilke articulates this vital incubatory solitude of creative work to his young correspondent in a sentiment of growing poignancy and urgency amid our age of instant and ill-considered opinions:
Leave to your opinions their own quiet undisturbed development, which, like all progress, must come from deep within and cannot be pressed or hurried by anything. Everything is gestation and then bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of a feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one’s own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity: that alone is living the artist’s life: in understanding as in creating.
He echoes Goethe’s largehearted, increasingly needed wisdom on the only appropriate response to the creative labors of others and writes:
Works of art are of an infinite loneliness and with nothing so little to be reached as with criticism. Only love can grasp and hold and be just toward them.
Letters to a Young Poet — which also gave us Rilke on what it really means to lovethe life-expanding value of uncertainty, and why we read — remains one of the most beautiful, profound, and timeless works ever composed. Complement this particular portion with Rachel Carson on writing and the loneliness of creative workand Virginia Woolf on the relationship between loneliness and creativity, then revisit Rilke on the nature of creativity.




May 25, 2018

Artist of the week: Leon Golub

Finally made it to the MET Breuer to see the Leon Golub show just before it closes on May 27th. So amazing to see this work close up, and experience the enormity of both the materials and subject matter. Golub's work is so much about power struggle, and it is expressed so perfectly through his materials. The violent torn and raw canvases, and the dry dragging of paint look almost as painful as the atrocities they depict. If I had to describe Golub's work with one word, it would be Monstrous. 

Excerpt taken from the MET's statement:
His devotion to the figure, his embrace of expressionism, his fusion of modern and classical sources, and his commitment to social justice distinguish his practice as an artist.
Alongside the monumental, terrifying Gigantomachy IILeon Golub: Raw Nerve features paintings from the artist's most important series....  that represent subjects of longstanding interest to the artist, from mercenaries, interrogators, and the victims of violence to political figures, nudes, and animals, all of them rendered in the raw, visceral style for which he is justly celebrated.
Together, these paintings attest to Golub's incisive perspective on the catastrophes that afflict human civilization and his critique of brutality and belligerent masculinity. The artist's work has much to teach us in the twenty-first century, as does his belief in the ethical responsibility of artists.
detail, Two Black Women and a White Man, 1986, acrylic on linen, 120 x 163 inches






detail, Two Black Women and a White Man, 1986, acrylic on linen, 120 x 163 inches

Two Black Women and a White Man, 1986, acrylic on linen, 120 x 163 inches

Installation view at the MET

The Conversation, 1990, acrylic on linen, 92 x 170 inches


Colossal Torso III, 1960, lacquer on canvas, 82 x 96 inches

Tete de Chevall II, 1963, acrylic on canvas, 81 x 81 inches

Combat I, 1970, offset lithograph



detail, Gigantomachy II, 1966, acrylic on linen, 9 x 24 feet


detail, Gigantomachy II, 1966, acrylic on linen, 9 x 24 feet


detail, Gigantomachy II, to show scale


Gigantomachy II, 1966, acrylic on linen, 9 x 24 feet


Leon Golub (1922-2004) was married to artist Nancy Spero (1926-2009)

Further looking and reading:
The Canvas takes Shape, on Youtube
The Paris Review
Leon Golub: Raw Nerve




Champ de Bataille, 1965, oil on canvas, 91 x 66 inches



Leon Golub in his studio


detail, Vietnam II, 1973, acrylic on canvas, 9 x 37 feet


Riot I, Lithograph

The Go-ahead, 1986, acrylic on canvas, 120 x 192 inches



March 22, 2018

the problem with deadlines

An  artist  without  a  deadline  is  like . . . . . . . . . . . . .....                        

I  am  good  with  deadlines.  I  have  actually  said  those  words.  What  does  that  even  mean?  It  does  not  mean  that  I  don't  freak  out,  get  mean,  anxious,  impatient,  frustrated  and  generally  riddled  with  nerves  and  self  doubt,  because  I  do.  I  need  deadlines  to  make  me  insane  is  the  more  accurate  thing  to  say.  Maybe  I  should  replace  it  altogether  with,  I'm  not  good  at  deadlines  at  all,  I'm  good  with  the  outcome  of  deadlines.  I'm  good  with  good  results,  and  the  enormous  feeling  of  relief  and  accomplishment.  Deadlines,  if  you  make  them  and  keep  them,  will  give  you  the  confidence  to  keep  making  and  keeping  them.  Deadlines  keep  you  in  check.  They  keep  you,  even  if  you  are  simultaneously  a  frazzled  mess,  focused.

Deadlines  Are  The  Great  Motivator.  So,  yeah,  I'm  good  with  deadlines.

Of  course  the  real  problem  with  deadlines  is  that  once  they're  over,  then  what.  You're  admittedly  a  little  high  on  yourself,  but  you're  exhausted  from  working  your  ass  off,  everything  is  a  wreck  around  you  because  you've  neglected  absolutely  everything,  and  you're  literally  slumped  over  the  studio  couch  wondering,  now  what  am  I  supposed  to  do..  Am  I  right?

Anyway,  that's  kind  of  where  I'm  at  at  the  present  moment.


February 9, 2018

How to Enjoy Bad TV

Watching bad TV has never been so fun. I've been working on these crumpled tracing paper drawings in the evenings with the television going. Needless to say I watch a lot of Cheers and Frasier reruns. Thinking of a better title for them.........

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, detail, Magic II, 2017, magic marker on tracing paper

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Magic I, 2017, magic marker on tracing paper, 19 x 24 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Magic II, 2017, magic marker on tracing paper, 19 x 24 inches
Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Magic III, 2017, magic marker on tracing paper, 8.5 x 11.5 inches
Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Magic IV, 2018, magic marker on tracing paper, 19 x 24 inches
Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, detail, Magic IV, 2018, magic marker on tracing paper

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Magic V, 2018, magic marker on tracing paper, 19 x 24 inches
Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, detail, Magic V, 2018, magic marker on tracing paper
Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, view of 5 drawings


February 4, 2018

"Byron Kim's painting ritual" by Two Coats of Paint

Byron Kim’s painting ritual

Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 1:20:09, 2009, acrylic and pencil on canvas mounted on panel, 14 x 14 inches

Every Sunday, Byron Kim makes a painting of the sky. One hundred of these purposefully unremarkable small canvases are on view at James Cohan through February 17. What makes them unremarkable are their size and the undramatic skies they depict – not the complex, sublime sky paintings made by, say, great Dutch painters like Aelbert Cuyp and Jacob van Ruisdael. Instead, they are simple renderings with a limited palette of blue and white, and a bit of light grey for the odd cloudy day. Rather than offering an expansive view or capturing the subtle color ranges in cloud forms, these paintings convey a dainty sense of claustrophobia and ennui but no real sense of joy or wonder. It is as if the monotonous ritual of making a painting a week were more important to Kim than the painted image itself.
Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 6:19:01, 2001, acrylic and pencil on panel, 14 x 14 inches
Thus, in Kim’s exhibition, quantity, habit, and process seem to trump the quality of the individual paintings. Reinforcing this point, Kim has handwritten a prosaic note about the day on each painting, perhaps as an indication that Kim’s ambition and concentration have gone missing in the mire of family life and all the yawn-inducing tasks that a successful artist must perform. Kim may be living the dream, but it doesn’t seem very transporting.
Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 3:26:08, 2008, acrylic and pencil on canvas mounted on panel, 14 x 14 inches
Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 4:20:10, 2010, acrylic and pen on canvas mounted on panel, 14 x 14 inches.
Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 1:22:17, acrylic and pencil on canvas mounted on panel, 14 x 14 inches
Byron Kim, Sunday Painting 8:20:17, 2017, acrylic and pencil on canvas mounted on panel, 14 x 14 inches
Byron Kim, installation view.
The project reminds me of On Kawara’s Date Paintings. Each day Kawara crafted a painting of the date in the ubiquitous sans serif typeface Helvetica. In the box where he stored the painting, he also included a page of the newspaper from the city where he was working. Like Kawara, Kim is interested in the idea of maintaining a serial approach rather than engaging with the materiality of paint. But Kim’s project also conjures a link to more painterly perceptual artists, such as Lois Dodd and Giorgio Morandi. Morandi spent his life painting easel-sized still-lifes that depicted small cups, bowls, and other tabletop vessels in tertiary colors, even as World War II raged around him. Lois Dodd has painted the landscape around her familiar Maine homestead for decades, and the resulting body of work is a moving record of a quiet and dedicated life.
Both Morandi and Dodd focus narrowly on translating their immediate surroundings with great painterly nuance onto canvas to convey the emotional timbre of their lives. In this distracted age, especially as the big picture becomes increasingly daunting, it’s undeniably tempting for artists to employ this kind of approach as a kind of refuge. Kim presents an alternative escape, whereby grim routine isolates the artist and decontextualizes the personal content of his work. It’s rather dispirited, and perhaps a sign of the times.
Byron Kim: Sunday Paintings,” James Cohan Gallery, Chelsea, New York, NY. through February 17, 2018.
Two Coats of Paint is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution – Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License. To use content beyond the scope of this license, permission is required.

January 19, 2018

How to stress over grant applications

So far my grant application is looking like this. 

Today I watched NYFA's live seminar to get more info. You could comment online and they would read the comments out loud and answer the questions. Just as she started to answer my question the live feed got disconnected; which I thought was a little ironic. They came back on in a short bit to answer me fully which was great, but just as I was jotting down the answer, probably on the last sentence she was saying, my computer died..... More irony. 

It's been a crazy week and it can best be summarized by outrageous technical difficulties and customer service from hell. I will not weary you with the details. 

Typing this on my husband's laptop isn't the worst thing in the world, and when January is over, this application will be submitted, along with another one due on the 28th, I will have finished and photographed four new paintings, dropped off work for an upcoming show, the Roaring Twenties Fundraiser I'm hosting will be over, and the early setting up stages for my job as Director of Beacon Open Studios will be fully in place. That is one long sentence. Wish me luck!

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Ladyfingers, 2017, oil on canvas, 40 x 40 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Avoirdupois, 2018, oil on canvas, 40 x 40 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Mattress, 2017, oil on canvas, 60 x 60 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Meadow, 2018, oil on canvas, 36 x 36 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Winter painting I, 2016, oil on canvas, 50 x 54 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Winter painting II, 2016, oil on canvas, 50 x 50 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Invitation, 2017, oil on canvas, 30 x 36 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Winter painting III, 2016, oil on canvas, 50 x 50 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Winter painting IV, 2016, oil on canvas, 50 x 50 inches

Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Save me from my desires, 2015, oil on canvas, 58 x 58 inches











January 7, 2018

February Painting

This looks like a great show. Guest artists were invited to show alongside current members of the gallery. Thanks Barbara Smith Gioia for asking me! Looking forward to seeing these pairings up close. 




Souvenez-vous de cette peinture? I just realized it's funny that I painted it in February 
three years ago, and even labeled it February painting before I titled it "Trepidation".
Now it will be hanging during the month of February. Perfect.



Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Trepidation, 2015, oil on canvas, 36 x 36 inches












January 3, 2018

TIPS FOR THE NEW YEAR


For some reason writing 2018 seems totally natural, like it's been a long time coming. This year I'm not making resolutions. I mean what's to say a resolution at the beginning of the calendar is any more special than at the end of it, or the middle. I do have plans however... yup, plans are good. I'll have some work included in a few exhibitions coming up:



  • January 12-21, "Member Exhibition" at Garrison Art Center, Garrison, NY. Opening reception: January 12, 5-7pm
  • February 2-25, "Conversations" a group show at Buster Levi Gallery in Cold Spring, NY. Opening reception: February 2, 6-8pm
  • June 2018, Three person show at Hudson Beach Glass Gallery in Beacon, NY. (exact dates tba)


with artists Jackie Skrzynski


Jackie Skrzynski, Studio view of Clapper2016, charcoal on paper, 50 x 80"

and Tanya Chaly

Tanya Chaly, Unravel, Installation View March, 2017, The Cluster Gallery, Brooklyn, New York


I'm also planning to apply for that good ol' NYFA Fellowship grant again this year, and more surprises, a couple of people have shown interest in purchasing a painting here and there. So... things are feeling pretty good. At the moment I have a few small pieces in the Small Works show at the Catalyst Gallery in Beacon. The show closes with a reception this Sunday on January 7th. 


Samantha Palmeri Contemporary Artist
Samantha Palmeri, Untitled, 2016, oil on canvas, 30 x 36 inches
This morning I had a lovely studio visit, which I hope is the first of many this year. I get stuck in my own world of time management and obligation and studio work etc. I forget how important it is to stay connected with other artists. Studio visits are awesome! A win-win for everyone. So, maybe that's some kind of a resolution after all, to stay connected. Send me a message if you want to have a studio date... Oh, and happy new year!













December 14, 2017

How Much Of The Audience Should I Be Concerned With?

This is a repost of something I wrote back in 2014. It's crazy that I just stumbled across it and it's like I could've written it yesterday! 

Thankfully I feel like the new series of paintings I'm working on is resolving this very issue. I guess we'll just have to wait another 3 years to see if it still applies!

.................................................................................................




laundry meat after a funeral, 2011, 44X44", oil on canvas
caress, 2009, oil on canvas, 54X56"

March 2014

I've always been interested in the figure, but not necessarily in figure painting. I prefer a blurry line between the figurative and abstract. I'd much rather offer a question to the viewer than a declaration. 

Although it's been a while since I made the more definitive transition to pure abstraction, lately I've been looking at some of my older figurative work with a discerning eye.

I notice a big difference in the way people respond to the recognizable versus the unrecognizable. And now that I'm thinking about it, I notice a big difference in the way I'm responding myself. It's like there was more to look at before, more of an essence. 

Most viewers had a much stronger reaction to the work that was more recognizable. I thought it was just that figures and faces were more familiar. It's also hard to experience abstract work when you're spending the whole time trying to 'figure it out' instead of actually looking, which is what people tend to do.
ugly head, 2009, oil on canvas, 54X54"

detail, in like a lion, 2011, oil on canvas, 50X76"
These paintings have a lot in common, but I do feel that there is something almost tangible in the figures that is missing in the abstractions. If I could just get that thing into the abstract paintings...

It's that human connection I've been searching for in all my work, but perhaps it was clearer to a broader audience before. 

I wonder, how much of the audience should I be concerned with? 

What do you think?

the new swimmer, 2009, triptych, 178X50", oil on canvas
skinny, 2012, oil on canvas, 30X50"



































girl with pearl earring, 2008, oil on canvas, 54X56"



snowy november, 2012, oil on canvas, 56X56"





























baby, 2009, oil on canvas, 50X84"