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

October 23, 2020

STRIPES

Prismacolor markers on Tyvek, 24 x 24"
Everything counts. And everything's connected.

It's almost exactly a year ago that I started making these striped drawings. I was having a lot of anxiety at the time, and the only thing I could think of to calm my nerves was to color long straight vertical lines over and over. 

So much has happened in one year. I have gone back and forth, repeatedly, working on the stripes, then putting them away, working on more stripes, then putting them away, in different mediums, materials, and sizes. All along, I struggled to see their relevance within the context of my painting practice. I knew they were worthwhile to make, but I didn't know what to do with them. 




Four 5 x 7" drawings, prismacolor markers on card stock, the backs of old gallery postcards


As you can imagine, with the pandemic and quarantine, the need for anxiety reducing activity became paramount, and the stripes suddenly were brought to the forefront of my studio practice. Working on these scraps (literally, since some of the drawings are on scraps of cardboard, and the knitted pieces are mostly made with leftover scraps of yarn), has been a great source of reassurance and consistency for me. And, as with most things, the more you do, the more you discover. The work has grown in scope and importance. The stripes seem to have taken on a life of their own, infiltrating even the large paintings now.


detail of knitted piece


I still don't know exactly how it all fits together, but my color choices, and the energy behind them, the organic nature of so much of it, which includes the imperfections of the handmade and hand drawn object, all of that speaks to what interests me in my work. I can't say I'm pleased with the 'extra bout of anxiety' that first led me to the stripes, but I'm pleased I made something out of it, and that I keep making, in spite of not knowing why or where it's going.

I keep reminding myself, everything counts, and everything's connected. 


Grasping, prismacolor markers on fluorescent cardstock, with collaged elements


See more drawings on my website.






August 24, 2020

Pandemic blues and opportunities



This week I picked up the paintings from my show at Pen & Brush. Thrilled to have been asked to participate, thrilled that we were able to have an opening reception right before the pandemic, but crushed that no one got to see the show, and that those paintings are now rolled up in storage and will probably not get shown again. Also this week I finally got word about the artist residency program I was supposed to participate in this month at Arts Letters & Numbers. It is now officially postponed until further notice. 

I am extremely fortunate to be on my own, with a place to live and work, and the freedom of time and commitment, but having all communal activities shuttered or postponed, some indefinitely, is certainly bittersweet. 

Time itself is bittersweet. The state of the world, our country, our communities, leaves me feeling scattered and restless. 

I'm aware that this time I've been given is a gift, an opportunity to be focused and introspective, innovative, productive. So, each week I start all over with lists of how not to squander it. How to make the most of these moments. 

As today is Monday, I guess I'm sending this out into the world to say to anyone else feeling this way, stay motivated! Focus on the opportunities at hand, and keep working! 


Untitled Pink I, oil on canvas, approx. 46x40 inches

Untitled Pink II, oil on canvas, approx. 46x40 inches

Untitled Pink III, oil on canvas, approx. 27x35 inches





June 6, 2020

New Drawings

Learning patience is not an easy thing;
The second I asked for it, all my markers and pens ran out of ink simultaneously! No joke! I'm grateful for the lesson, and in spite of that, I'm really enjoying these drawings, not only for the process of making them, but because I feel certain they will make their way to larger paintings, and that makes me happy. The series is ongoing and is titled Fill My Cup, each one is 8 x 10 inches, art markers and colored pencil on paper











May 22, 2020

I'm still here. Pandemic update


pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches

pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches


I like my mornings for meditating, reading, writing, and drinking coffee, and lighting incense. I have often said that I am not a morning person, because I don’t like to talk in the morning, at all. But, contemplating, planning, adjusting to a new day, these are real activities that take up space. I am a morning person after all, very much so! I also do some of my best work when I don’t stop to question it, like sitting down to my drawing table without giving it a second thought, and this often happens first thing in the morning.

I am learning a lot lately about choosing to be present.

I'm still here. That's my go to answer when people ask how I'm holding up. I'm still here. I'm surviving. Some days I'm even better than surviving. 

I am so grateful that the weather is getting nice and I can go for long walks and appreciate the outdoors. I know what a blessing this is because I have friends in the city who don't leave their tiny apartments. It is also, ironically, the first time in many years that, not only do I not have a garden to tend to, I have zero outdoor space at all. It figures, after all these years of composting and growing my own vegetables, now that I can't do it anymore, the whole world has gotten into it! Today I went and planted a few pots of Swiss chard regardless. There's hardly any sun on my poor looking stoop so my options are limited, however, this feels good, like some continuity at the moment. 

There is something about this pandemic that is bringing some real truth up to the surface. Everyone is suffering in one way or another, but I feel the power of all of us being in this together. 

This morning while meditating I got a picture in my head. I am like a black and blue, and maybe I'm not the only one. I'm healing, and there’s no rushing the process. What it implies is that the damage is already done, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore, and it is almost recovered. Here is an opportunity for change. If I choose to keep bumping into it over and over, it will be like getting more black and blues on top of this one. Why would I do that?! 

So, I’m not. I'm taking a breath. I’m here making drawings, planting seeds, and accepting the moment as it is.



pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches


pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 8x10 inches



pastel and colored pencil on cold pressed 300 lb. paper, 9.5x10.5 inches

Part of the Beacon of Light Fairground Fundraiser May 26 - June 2
















February 21, 2020

In Defense of Painting

Installation view of the exhibition, In Defense of Painting, at Pen + Brush





Pen & Brush is a not-for-profit organization showcasing the work of female artists and writers. They have over 125 years under their belts fighting for gender equity in the arts. Amazing! I am so excited and honored to be showing my work here, and to be part of such a wonderful history. Oops, I mean, herstory!












at the opening February 27


In Defense of Painting
February 27 - April 11, 2020


Pen + Brush

29 East 22nd Street, New York , NY


Opening Reception: Feb. 27th, 6-8pm


In Defense of Painting brings together three contemporary artists, Julia Jo, Samantha Palmeri, and Hojan, who are working with the age-old medium through the basics of form, color, shape, and materiality on a flat surface to embody feelings, emotions, and possibly new ways of seeing. In the twenty-first century context, generations have now lived through the death of painting many times over – yet the medium’s capacity to hold an expression of who we are as humans remains boundless. This boundlessness seems ever more compelling in the internet age.


Each of these artists grapple with pigment, allowing it to dry at various stages of abstraction and, at times, giving way to figuration and from there, animations, all while definitively leaving moments of ambiguity on the surface. Through their invention of forms, viewers are encouraged to enter at their own point of reference, to dive in, to swim, to see, to think, and to feel. This way of painting is a humanist act. It connects us. It doesn’t have to be new every time but somehow it is. Yet, perhaps that is beside the point.


Samantha Palmeri uses personal experiences to inform her painting and in turn “exteriorize our human and cultural interactions” through the examining of the natural, physical, and spiritual world. Born in Staten Island, New York, Palmeri received her Bachelor of Fine Arts from the School of Visual Arts in 1996. She has exhibited throughout New York and has been awarded the Arts Letter and Numbers Residency for 2020. Palmeri works with both figurative and abstract shapes to intentionally create ambiguous forms that aim to challenge the viewer. Focusing on materiality and movement, Palmeri obscures the everyday to explore the relationships and forces that pulse through both objects, space, and the paint itself.


Julia Jo uses paint to push against and with the boundaries of figuration and abstraction in ways that are both founded upon the cannon of painting and innovation. Born in Seoul, South Korea, and currently based in New York, Jo received her Master’s of Fine Art from the Parson’s School of Design from the New School and has exhibited across the United States. Using oil, acrylic, and flashe on a large scale, Jo aims to capture the ephemerality of life and inhabit the moments that are indescribable through language. On her process Jo says: “I chase after moments where abstraction and figuration form a necessary companionship in order to cling to this moment when the feeling inept for description bubbles to the surface. I begin with human forms for compositional elements, and through layering and piecing together, the bodily curvatures form a space. It is through an accumulation of numerous overlapping of forms and lines that the finished painting departs almost completely from figurative roots. In the final painting, the forms disintegrate into an all-over weave of visual movements that turn the surface into a spatial experience made up of brush strokes that harken back to the organic forms of the body. “


Using styles and methods that are both universal and timely, Hojan creates works that speak to the interconnectedness of the medium to the space it occupies. Born in Keelung, Taiwan, Hojan received her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Painting from the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn , New York in 2019, and studied Communications Design in 3D Animation at Shih-Chien University in Taipei, Taiwan. Her work has been exhibited throughout New York and Taiwan, and in 2019 she was awarded the Pratt Circle Award. In John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, he suggests that “The way we see things is affected by what we know or what we believe.” Hojan uses paint to create a narrative within space that is indicative of both the artists’ and the viewers relationship to the medium of painting. In speaking about her work, Hojan states: ”My painting is dealing with the relationships of the color shapes in the pictorial space. Those shapes are turned into characters, which becomes the main elements in the paintings in order to develop the relative position in the space and to create the seeing movement by their gestures. They are meant for the composition. Space embraces them, and they become indispensable in it. Viewers, as they feel the space is believable and comfortable, they enter the painting with what they know or what they believe, finding out that in the pictorial space, those characters are extending the emotional space”.


In conjunction with In Defense of Painting, Pen + Brush launches a new initiative, Project Space: Margaret Roleke in its downstairs gallery space. This space is intended as a separate project driven space that will engage the public in more immersive contemporary art experiences. In its first iteration, Pen + Brush presents the exploratory constructs of Margaret Roleke, who creates work that investigates current issues of gun violence and consumption. Roleke, who has shown her work extensively in New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey, works with small toys, guns, and spent bullet casing in Project Space to explore the relationships and contradictions within popular culture when it comes to consumerism and violence. The artist received a Bachelor of the Arts from Marymount Manhattan College and a Master of Fine Arts from Long Island University, C.W. Post. Roleke has shown work at Spring/Break Art Fair, 14C Art Fair, and Flux Art Fair. Her work has been written about in various publications including Hyperallergic, ArtNet, and Artsy.

February 11, 2020

finding meaning



Samantha Palmeri, Unravel, 2018, oil and charcoal on canvas, 60 x 60 inches

When I titled this piece, a little over a year ago, I pictured unraveling as a breaking apart of things, and it felt like a good metaphor for me. 

So much has changed since November 2018, and I can now appreciate that to unravel is also to untangle, and resolve

I've never shown the painting before, so I'm excited that the timing seems so perfect to have it included in a group exhibition coming up in March in Beacon, NY. 


Loss doesn't equal failure

This is hard to sink in because we are brainwashed to believe we need things that we don't really need, and that we are supposed to want things that we don't always want. We can make our own rules and find our own way of doing things. Things that make us feel most like ourselves. Even if, and especially when, it doesn't make any sense to anyone but us.


lovers
friends
husbands
children
houses
possessions
mothers
brothers
I lose them all
little by little
and then all at once
still
in this sea of loss
I find things
in packing your bags
my lost kimono
and in filling my voids
without warning
the answer
Here all along









February 1, 2020

fake it till you make it

detail of working painting, oil on canvas



This morning I made coffee, put on my favorite Chopin, peeled an orange, fried up two beautiful eggs with butter and crusty bread, which I slid onto my grandmother's perfectly sized Jadeite plate. I even lit a candle. 
A good friend recently said to me, I’ll know you’re in a real relationship Samantha when you gain those relationship 10 lbs. The other day I said to her, hey you’re right! I’m finally having a real relationship. With myself. Apparently it’s going really well I’ve already gained 5 lbs. Cue drum laughter..
Listen, I know how to wine and dine myself
The spirit of self-care has extended into my art studio as well. I am feeling a new sense of freedom and independence. I am no longer painting angsty continuations of what came before. I've decided to paint the joy I want to feel, and damn if it's not working. Is that the expression, fake it till you make it? I'm okay with that. My studio is a positive ray of light, and I've got the comments on instagram to prove it, Lol
I know the world is falling apart and all, and I'm here writing self-help messages to myself, but sometimes you just have to go in the studio and close the door. 


detail of working painting, oil on canvas


detail of working painting, oil on canvas

January 23, 2020

newest painting, as of now


Samantha Palmeri, detail, Turning, 2020, oil and oil stick on canvas, 96 x 64 inches

In just six weeks it will be the middle of March, which will officially mark the passing of a great and terrible year. Great in its enormity and terrible in its finalities. In the meanwhile I will not wish away this moment. I can taste every desire on the tip of my tongue, but I'm here now and this is a good hour of day. This is a good second to sit here and write this. I finished this painting this week and am knee deep in two others just like it.

I'm happy with the new paintings, especially after having not done much work since my solo show in September. I'm so glad I did that show because it got me to see my work more clearly, and to make clear intentions for myself. It's funny that the things I wanted to change in the work are the same things I've wanted to change in my personal life, and I think I am; like opening up and getting less tangled, being freer with the shapes and the color, and letting go and not having it be such a struggle. I'm so ready to keep accessing those things in me to bring to the canvas. I feel like I am turning, and the work is turning, like a piece of wood that gets turned to bring about something new and beautiful.


Samantha Palmeri, Turning, 2020, oil and oil stick on canvas, 96 x 64 inches


To see better quality images go to my website: samanthapalmeri.com


Samantha Palmeri, detail, Turning, 2020, oil and oil stick on canvas, 96 x 64 inches







September 18, 2019

PAINTING WITH ACTION

Samantha Palmeri, The Things Between Us II, 2019, oil on canvas, 60 x 60 inches

Actions speak louder than words, and my paintings speak louder than me.

Unless you put your words and thoughts into action they lose meaning. In the end wishful thinking is just wishful thinking.

Friends who constantly say to you, I'd love to, I wish I could but can't, and never do, aren't really your friends. Friends actually show up, physically and emotionally. And isn't it wonderful when they do!

Then there's my paintings, which is what I really want to talk about. I'm so proud of this work that is now showing at the Catalyst Gallery in Beacon, New York.

My amazing artist friends who have seen this work in progress know what a struggle it was, my constant questioning, uncertainty, and doubt. And yet somehow the work has ended up speaking  louder than my trepidation.

I guess I'd say these are paintings of action. They showed up! Somewhere between my brain and my hand came some resolute power to pull it through.

The work is all the things I'd like to be: vibrant, decisive, satisfying.

(other people's praise not mine btw)

This reassures me, and we all need that reservoir of surety don't we, that I am doing exactly what I was meant to be doing.

Installation view, Samantha Palmeri, The Things Between Us, Catalyst Gallery, 2019


The Things Between Us is showing at Catalyst Gallery through September 29th.
I am at the gallery weekends 12-6 and by appointment any day of the week.






February 22, 2019

NYC ART: 3 MUST-SEE SHOWS

I went to see some gallery shows yesterday, in particular Dana Schutz at Petzel Gallery, Judy Pfaff at Miles McEnery, and Brenda Goodman at Sikkema Jenkins.

Judy Pfaff, detail of Quartet II

Judy Pfaff, Quartet II, 2018, Photographic inspired digital image, steel frame, acrylic, expanded foam, aluminum discs, lightbulbs, wood, melted plastic, Styrofoam. 128.5” x 160” x 60”

Dana Schutz, Trouble and Appearance, 2019, Oil on canvas, 90 x 96 inches

Brenda Goodman, Let the Match Begin, 2017, oil on wood, 60 x 72 inches

Brenda Goodman, Possibility of Age, 2018, oil on wood, Two parts: 80 x 144 inches overall


WOW. These three artists are kicking ass with uncontained, unbridled energy, intention, and material-love. Monsters of color, detail, and form. I saw the shows in that order, Schutz, Pfaff, and Goodman. I left the Dana Schutz exhibition feeling like I should just give it up right now. The work feels so big, and a lot of it is so big. Big and bold and juicy. I imagined my paintings next to hers like little puny specks. Then I walked into Judy Pfaff's show and just started smiling uncontrollably. She is total exuberance! I was still smiling when I got to the Brenda Goodman show. Goodman has been at it for so long, I think of the saying, slow and steady wins the race. She is persistence. The surface details and little unexpected moments everywhere are too marvelous!

These women are laying it all out there. Led by a very personal, intuitive layering of material and meaning. I am so inspired. I feel like I have to go back and soak up some more.

These shows prove that seeing is believing. Visual art NEEDS to be experienced in person. Not one online image I viewed of any of these artworks came even close to what it feels like to be in a room with them.

Both the Dana Schutz and Brenda Goodman exhibitions end tomorrow, so if you haven't been, high tail it over there. Judy Pfaff's exhibit runs through March 9th.


Dana Schutz, Painting in an Earthquake, 2019, Oil on canvas, 94 x 87.75 inches

Brenda Goodman, Bringing it Home, 2018, oil on wood, 16 x 20 inches

Judy Pfaff, Quartet I, 2018, Photographic inspired digital image, wire frame, acrylic, melted plastic, aluminum discs, fungus, paper, glitter, Styrofoam, florescent light. 120.75” x 156” x 32”

Judy Pfaff, detail of Quartet I

Dana Schutz, Washing Monsters, 2018, Oil on canvas, 94 x 87.75 inches

Dana Schutz, Boatman, 2018, Oil on canvas, 88 x 75 inches

Dana Schutz, Smoker, 2018, Bronze, 28 x 30 x 12 inches

Brenda Goodman, Pink, 2018, oil on wood, Two parts: 50 x 72 inches overall

Brenda Goodman, Pushing Through, 2018, oil on wood, 14 x 18 inches

Brenda Goodman, Say It's So, 2018, oil on wood, 12 x 16 inches

Dana Schutz, The Visible World, 2018, Oil on canvas, 108 x 140 inches

Judy Pfaff, Quartet III, 2018, Photographic inspired digital image, acrylic, expanded foam, aluminum discs, Melted plastic, paper, acrylic, melted plastic, Styrofoam, lightbulbs. 121” x 149” x 21”

Judy Pfaff, Installation view

Dana Schutz, Washing Monsters, 2018, Bronze, 44 x 38 x 17 inches

Dana Schutz, detail of Strangers, 2018, Oil on canvas, 88 x 84 inches