Showing posts with label artwork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artwork. Show all posts

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 and no longer allowing myself to disappear…

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
















April 16, 2020

coronavirus studio update


I held a paint brush today for the first time in months. Got the palette and the fingers dirty, officially inaugurating my new studio. I had some scraps of styrofoam I've been wanting to play with, and a small canvas that was barely started a while back. I didn't do much, because I haven't been able to focus for more than short spurts, but it was something.


Usually when I am faced with overwhelming circumstances I react in one of two ways. I either let it all out and paint non-stop, or I'm unable to paint at all. When I'm unable to paint, I draw, and glue stuff, and knit, and these are the things I've been doing for the last couple of weeks.


Each drawing: 5x7", Prismacolor markers on heavy cardstick, bottom right has collage element





I've gotten quite a few drawings done during odd hours mostly in the mornings, but I don't do much else.

Today I baked banana bread, thanks to a fun FaceBook group that's been inspiring all kinds of banana inspired silliness.

Last night I cooked the first legit meal for myself in a while. After weeks of cereal and forkfuls of peanut butter for dinner I decided it was time!







I'm still a little in shock from the stress of moving during all this, specifically from a house to an apartment, which is also my studio. I'm living completely alone for the first time in almost twenty years, which at the moment is changing my view of isolation quite a bit. Normally I'd be perfectly content to self-quarantine. It's a necessary and welcome choice for most artists, including myself. I think it's more that I am adjusting both to my own new space and living situation, and simultaneously to the new living situation and confinement of an entire society. It's disorienting.

There has been family drama and loss as well, adding a lot of stress and sadness all around. My sister-in-law's father-in-law passed, and several others were infected and are suffering with the virus, including my mother who was hospitalized but is now in recovery.

It's clear that everyone right now is suffering and adjusting in one way or another. I keep hearing people say, I'll see you on the other side of this. I'm very much looking forward to there being an other side to this. Attempting to be present and live in the moment has never felt more relevant, so that is what I am trying to do.

Hopefully today's little success will continue and increase a little each day. I hope you are also able to make the most of this time, and take care of yourselves and each other!

The drawings are available individually or in groups. Please inquire for details. samanthapalmeriart@gmail.com

















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







October 8, 2019

Art Studio Upheaval



I am in the midst of a serious reorganization-upheaval of my art studio. Somehow the studio has become a dumping ground for a lot of shit I don't want to deal with.

I've been going through boxes and piles of artwork that I've been avoiding for over twenty years. Drawings, photographs, journal entries, scraps of paper with scrawled notes and sketches from age 18 until now.

IT IS SO MUCH!

And most of it is clearly like my worst depictions of teenage (and twenties' and thirties') angst and depression. Not to mention postcards, receipts, and tax papers from every failed business and art gallery I've owned or managed. All neatly piled in boxes that I've hauled from one studio to the next, over and over throughout the years.

So, here I am happy to report that I have not only mustered the courage to look at all of this head on, but I've been able to purge most of it once and for all.

Can you say Catharsis?

The memories are there, and of course I'm still the same person, but I don't need the baggage anymore. I have saved a few gems, and tossed the rest.



Tossed
This is a drawing I made when I was 18. Pastel on newsprint, 18x24". My eyes have never been that big btw and my hair has never been that straight, but there it is! It was part of an application for something and I remember the person reviewing it saying to me, what did you get bored by the time you got to the hair? Obviously I didn't get accepted into whatever it was.

Tossed
This was a school assignment from I think St. John's University, ca. 1992. copied from a photograph. Pencil on Bristol paper 16x16". I was damn cute as a four year old wasn't I?! The brown dots are moldy bits from being stored in a basement for too long.

Saved
This doesn't actually look like me either but I do like this little painting. Oil on canvas, 1999, 10x11"



























... self portraits


My mother has often referred to me as stubborn. I used to agree with her but mostly because I liked thinking of myself that way. It implied that I had my own opinion, which gave me a personality, which I desperately craved when I was younger because all evidence pointed elsewhere.

But it has more to do with something else I think. It's not that I refuse to believe certain things, it's just that I need to see it for myself first. I can't believe in anything until I've made up my own mind about it. My daughter is the same way. She won't take my word for it. Maybe it's not the worst thing, except that it does end up taking an awfully  l o o o o o o n g  time to process things.








August 10, 2018

Abject Felicity

When Not looking is as important as looking!

I was just thinking how important it is to be able to put work away and come back to it. When you're deeply involved in a painting, sometimes you just can't see it anymore and you need to be able to not look at it for a while. When you come back to it and can actually see it for what it is, one of two things will occur: you'll realize it's a mess and what were you thinking, or you'll realize how much better it is than you thought and wow, who even painted that.

The same thing happens with writing. I do the same thing with this blog. I re-read my old posts, not very often, but occasionally. Sometimes I actually put them back in the draft folder! But sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised that what I was thinking really came out in words.

Today's blog post was meant to be about something completely different, but I came across this excerpt from a recent exhibition proposal I submitted. Oh yeah, writing proposals and grant applications also falls under the category I'm-too-immersed-in this-to-even-know-what-it's-about-anymore. In this case I'm really pleased to have read it this morning and thought, who the hell even wrote that! Take a look:

Samantha Palmeri, Waste not, 2018, oil on canvas, 60 x 60 inches



Concept:
Abject Felicity is an exhibition of new abstract paintings. My work explores the interconnectedness of nature, body, spirit and metaphor. The relationship between our internal and external influences is played out through color and form; with entangled lines and texture often personifying internal struggle, or joy. The repetition of knitted braided forms unfolding through mood and chance are all obscured within the process of making, and through the filter of abstraction.
The paintings in Abject Felicity will be directly informed by my daily living as a woman, artist and mother. Specifically they will reference the discarded food that ends up in the garbage, piles of dirty laundry, and other domestic cast offs. The term abjection literally means the state of being cast off. The concept of waste is rife with metaphor and can be interpreted in a multitude of ways both culturally, regarding social change, and personally, regarding identity and spirituality.
The reference images I work with are not chosen randomly. I am not simply drawn to intertwining lines and forms, I am interested in how they are entwined and how that interaction personifies our human and cultural interaction; the moving in and out of each other. The dualistic nature of all things.

Relevance:
Painting is a means of connection. I've found that the more personal and specific I am in my work, the more people can relate to it. If I have a personal connection to the work, I'm opening up for the viewer a chance to experience a real and compelling connection as well. The only way to elevate the cultural is through the personal.
It's important to present the work in a proper setting; an intimate space but large enough where each piece has breathing room, and where the work and the viewer can get the experience they deserve.


For all intents and purposes this proposal is still active if anyone is interested...

All images © 2018 Samantha Palmeri
To join my mailing list please click www.samanthapalmeri.com



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



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