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

September 24, 2019

how to fall in love with yourself


Samantha Palmeri, Good Job, 2019, oil, charcoal, and pigment on canvas, 50 x 54 inches


It seems like everything happens in the fall.

Three years ago in October I was on the floor pretending to be a dolphin sobbing like a baby. sort of if I can remember correctly, in between writhing around and laying in a fetal position in a dark room full of strangers all doing the same thing. except for the sobbing part, because when the instructor said to give yourself a big hug and tell yourself you loved yourself, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who burst into tears. At that moment I couldn't have been farther away from knowing what that felt like or how to do it. Three years later I am not sobbing on the floor, but this notion of self-love still eludes me.

When you google self-love, some twenty something with a nose ring and perfect eyeliner appears on a video saying maybe you haven't done this or thought about it in like a year or so, so here's what you should do. really? Millennial self-help is such an oxymoron.

How to fall in love with yourself could very well be the most cliche thing ever. but what if it's like the most important question to ask. after all, trying to figure out how to fall in love with someone else or how to get them to fall in love with you is exhausting and counterproductive. I'm starting to understand, or at least pretending really hard to, that all that matters is the being okay with yourself part.

So, I'm willing to give this thing a try. TRY
or Don't Try as Charles Bukowski would say, but either way it's just there, and you're just there, and whether you meet in the middle, fall madly in love, or go to the bar and forget all about it, it's still gonna be there no matter what, so you might as well..........


This article might not legitimately be about life as a working artist, but you know, confidence goes a long way. My work is about relationships, and this probably is the most important one.









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.






March 18, 2019

Shaolin*: the forgotten borough

Who we are has so much to do with where we are from.

Something's been on my mind about place and belonging. So many artists talk about where they're from and how much it's influenced their work and their lives. Whether they left a place by choice or not, whether they stayed, returned, or were never able to, whether they hated it or loved it, it has played an important role.


I was born and raised in Staten Island, New York, and lived there until I was 29.



Staten Island has a very ghetto mentality. By that I am being quite inclusive as far as race and discrimination. It's less about poverty, but definitely about fear, isolation, and cultural starvation.

Staten Island is divided by neighborhoods. There are 19 stops on the Staten Island Rapid Transit. Each one has its own personality. In my era, neighborhoods were divided into territorial gangs. My neighborhood gang was called the Albee boys because we lived on the cross street of Albee avenue. The Albee boys were rivals of the New Springville boys. In 1991 Thomas Bickerton's big brother was beaten to death with a baseball bat by the New Springville boys and his name was spray painted under the overpass a block from my house. I remember this distinctly because Thomas Bickerton had jumped up to kiss me in the courtyard of PS 36 during our Kindergarten recess, and I had been friendly with him ever since. I graduated from a high school with a population of almost 4,000. There were exactly two African American students in my graduating class. In the last election almost 75% of the people from my old neighborhood voted Republican.

Staten Island is divided by the north shore and the south shore. My neighborhood on the south shore was made up mostly of people who had moved from Brooklyn to Staten Island, including my family. People who commuted to Manhattan to work every day but didn't spend much time there after working hours. My friends and I didn't hang out in the city, we hung out on the corner, in back of the high school parking lot, or literally at the giant rock in the woods by my house.

In 1986 I was accepted to the high school of performing arts for ballet. I didn't go. I have no recollection of what that conversation was like, but for a sheltered 13 year old from Staten Island, the idea of riding the ferry to the train by myself to Fiorello La Guardia every day wasn't even in my peripheral.

There are five boroughs of New York City: Manhattan, Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island. Staten Island is the only borough that doesn't physically connect to Manhattan. There is no bridge or train that goes directly to the city. Commuters take a train to a ferry, or a bridge to a tunnel, or some combination which often includes driving from New York to New Jersey to New York again. From Annadale it took me an hour and a half to get to midtown Manhattan. A half hour train ride, a 20 minute ferry ride, a ten minute subway, plus the walk to, and the wait for, each of these operations. There are three bridges that cross over to New Jersey and exactly one bridge that crosses to Brooklyn. This is not an accident. It symbolizes a great cultural divide. In 1993 65% of Staten Islanders voted to secede from NYC. With mostly no interest in taking advantage of/enjoying any of New York City's culture, art, spirit, energy, there was also no interest in paying its expenses/tax bill.

Staten Island, often referred to as the "forgotten borough", if you didn't already know, was also once home to the largest garbage dump in the world. T h e   w o r l d.  It was seen from outer space... for real. On a particularly stale day one could smell the dump from miles away.

It took me years to accept that the place I grew up in was, well, kind of embarrassing. A way more suburban than urban, left out, dumped on borough under a giant shadow of one of the greatest cities in the world. When I worked in the city I never volunteered that I was from Staten Island. People would make fun of the dump or the ferry or the fact that New Jersey was easier to get to.

I hated Staten Island when I was growing up. I was shy and artistic and I didn't get anyone's inside jokes about the Staten Island mall. I was a cheerleader but I couldn't do a cartwheel. I had no connection whatsoever to the place I was from. When I was a senior and about to graduate high school, my parents went to an open school night and incidentally met with my art teacher. Mrs. D'Agostino was shocked that I had absolutely no plans for any specific college or to pursue art in any way. She's the reason I became an art major. Not because she was particularly inspiring, but because she was the only one who'd suggested it.

I think I let the place I was from define me for a long time. I'm beginning to understand that the place itself is just part of a story I tell myself about who I am, and that's something I can change.




*Shaolin is what the Wu Tang Clan called Staten Island in the early 1990's.


February 6, 2019

#artistproblems

Some of you already know, but just to say for the record, I have left my job at the Garrison Art Center.

That's a long story but the positive is that I've been able to get my painting schedule back and focus on full time work in the studio again.

Here's how it's been going. Last week out of sheer frustration I threw my paint brush on the floor while exclaiming, I can't believe I forgot how to paint! A few days later I was feeling like a painter again and actually enjoying myself. Hashtag artist problems. This morning I added a new painting to my website www.samanthapalmeri.com. I'm excited that work for my upcoming show in September at the Catalyst Gallery is finally well on its way.

I've decided to leave the paintbrush on the floor just to remind myself, every day is a new day.


half blurry picture of paintbrush on the floor.
palette table with that little rubber hand I won at a Funky Spunky Literature Night
I'm kinda obsessed with it. 
my newest painting. doesn't have a title yet. oil on canvas, 40 x 40 inches



January 29, 2019

Kiki Smith, Art Exhibitions, Journal Writing, Inspiration, Vulnerability


from the exhibition Genevieve and the Wolves, Sainte Genevieve, 1999, ink on Nepal paper, 7 feet 8 1/4 inches



Kiki Smith


My Blue Lake, 1995, color photogravure with a la poupée inking and lithograph in colors, 33.7 x 45.8 inches


Sojourn installation image at the Brooklyn Museum, 2010

book cover



I got a great book for Christmas this year, Kiki Smith: Photographs
Published on the occasion of the exhibition I Myself Have Seen It: Photography and Kiki Smith, March 6-August 15, 2010, at the Henry Art Gallery, University of Washington, Seattle. Organized by Elizabeth A. Brown.

I've been following Kiki Smith's work for a long time. I remember one of the first exhibitions I saw of hers in the 1990's of black birds and bent over bodies hanging on the wall and scattered on the gallery floor. The psychological, emotional, and physical relationships she explores: self to nature, nature to animal, animal to human, and so on, mesmerize and enthrall me. She seems to be an artist who is so completely enveloped in her work, consistently working on numerous projects at once, in complete servitude and surrender to her art.

It both inspires and intimidates me. On Christmas Day I wrote in my journal,

Kiki Smith inspiration. I am not an artist/person who lets it all hang out. I am full of fear not vulnerability. I do not photograph myself naked or give myself tattoos. I am not fearless. I am covered. I want to break through like piercing the yolk of a poached egg. I want to completely dissolve and disappear into my absolute. I wonder if this is a thing everyone is even capable of. I'm starting to think this is the thing that makes great artists, and this is the thing I do not have.


Ribs, 1987, terracotta, ink, and thread, 22 x 17 x 10 inches

Silver bird, 2006, ink on Nepal paper with silver gouache, mica, glitter, and graphite, 72 1/4 x 58 1/4 inches

Lilith, 1994, bronze, silicon, and glass

Lilith detail



Fawn, 2000, Etching and aquatint, 22 1/2 x 31 1/4 inches


Daisy Chain, 1992, steel and bronze, chain 100 feet


Untitled (red man), 1991, ink on gampi paper in four parts


Rapture, 2001, bronze, 67 1/4 x 62 x 26 1/2 inches






Touch, 2006, suite of 6 prints, aquatint, etching, and drypoint, 30 x 22 inches


Wolf Girl, 1999, etching and aquatint on paper, 8 x 11 inches




Jewel, 2004, suite of three prints, aquatint and etching, each 14 x 17 inches





Cat, 1999, cast porcelain, 3 x 3 x 3 inches





Kiki Smith


further looking and reading:

Art21

ArtObserved

Shoshana Wayne Gallery




January 21, 2019

Reference images for paintings


I've spent the last week preparing canvases. Cutting, pasting, screwing, priming, etc. I have not decided how to tackle the actual painting part yet. Today I printed some reference photos as a point of departure, a jumping-off point to get me started. 
It is everyday things that I find most interesting. I catch a glimpse of something and imagine a whole world within it and around it. These glimpses can sometimes be very personal parts of me and my day. Mostly they evoke something greater than just color or composition, something I can't really articulate. One day I would like to publish a whole book of my reference photos and collages. 
 
dreadlocks. this color. 


cherry tomatoes from the garden



this is dough.


a dwarf maple tree in my backyard



 


food that's gone bad and ends up in the trash is both an ongoing challenge, and resource for my work.
stemming from my desire to never let anything go to waste and my guilty conscience when it does



spotted this giant ball of rope at a friend's studio



                                                          
clearly I'm obsessed


this is not a staged photo. the dirty dishes were really piled that high 


Some photos are from Instagram and Pinterest. Sorry some image credits are unknown. If I've swiped a photo from you unknowingly, thank you! and let me know so I can give you credit.



January 8, 2019

Pragmatic distances

There are two things I've learned over the years, from running my own business, working for non-profits, and painting in my studio.

  • One is, don't take things personally, and 

  • Two is, most answers to most dilemmas are found in the most practical details. It's usually staring you right in the face, though sometimes it's your own face that's in the way of seeing it, if that makes any sense.


Relating to my studio work, the practical details start with my work space. When I'm in the studio I'm having a physical relationship with my work and my environment. Sometimes the simplest things make the biggest differences and I have to laugh at myself for not realizing it sooner.

How I go about the physical act of painting is so important to my work. Like the distance between me and the canvas while I paint. I have had days where nothing was working and all of a sudden I realized I was standing too far away from the canvas. Even six inches too far made a huge difference. I'm interacting with my paintings as if I were swimming around inside them almost. So anything that disconnects me is a distraction. For example, I spent years wearing rubber gloves while I painted. In the summer I'd be sweating and have to change them every hour, in the winter they'd get stiff and tear. Without them I'm so much happier. I'm able to literally feel the paint, and that adds a great deal to my relationship with the work.

Stolen burnisher is second from the right. Second from the left is an antique wooden handle screwdriver that belonged to my grandfather.

Other practical details include the tools I use. I've grown a serious attachment to some unlikely utensils, like toothbrushes and old screw drivers. For unknown reasons, back in (I think) 1992, I stole a burnishing tool from my printmaking class. Don't ask me what I thought I was going to use it for. It's been floating around every studio I've had, at the bottom of every pile of things I never look at, all these years. Until recently. I don't know what made me finally start using it, but it scrapes off paint like nobody's business and I can honestly say it's my favorite thing right now!

Speaking of utensils, there's a giant icing spatula (aka palette knife) I've been eyeing at the fancy kitchen shop on Main Street for a while. It could seriously be the next best thing...

It's good to get older because you do get wiser after all. I'm learning a little more each day what works for me, and that tiny changes can often make huge strides.



December 31, 2018

Happy New Year

Sending you a very Happy New Year's greeting! 


Today, New Year's Eve, will be a feast with friends. Boeuf Bourguignonne, chocolate mousse, sparkly decorations, and champagne cocktails like "Ernest Hemingway's Death in the Afternoon".

A good title to lead with: Green, 2018, oil on canvas, 40 x 40 inches


It's been a busy year, so much that I currently have 35 posts in the drafts folder half written and waiting to be finished. But, hey, that's 35 half finished essays I can look forward to completing.

I had a conversation with a friend recently who reminded me that all artists struggle to some degree with an often debilitating balancing act. The times when we are filled to overflowing with great new ideas and motivation are coupled with times when we can't find the energy to get dressed in the morning. We talked about creating deadlines and goals to anchor us throughout the year, and especially the winter months.

So..., I have been stockpiling ideas and materials lately in anticipation of what I'd like to be a busy art making season ahead. I've started a knitting project, a drawing project, and just bought a miter saw and tools to literally cut and paste some wonky stretcher bars together. I've been wanting to do this for years and I am so excited! I mean, I bought a saw! It's totally going to be a good year.

I'm thrilled to announce that I'll be having a solo exhibition of new work at the Catalyst Gallery in September. I am also very pleased to have been asked to be part of a group exhibition, curated by artist and owner of Theo Ganz Studio, Eleni Smolen, celebrating Women's history at the Howland Cultural Center in March.

There is so much more I hope to share with you in the coming months.

Thank you so much for continuing to read and support the ArtWrestler blog..


September 6, 2018

unfinished paintings; new beginnings



This morning I put on my painting clothes and sat in the studio for the first time since the beginning of August. My studio literally has cob webs and the stale smell of mildew. Every year the end of summer feels like this, a little sad for the end of the season, for all the artwork I inevitably didn't get to work on, and the momentum I didn't keep going; at the same time, excited and a little anxious for a new season, new schedules, new times. Is it insanity when you keep doing the same thing expecting different results?


At the moment I have four half finished paintings and a new box of supplies waiting for me. I have a calendar that is about to get the word STUDIO scrawled across its days. My daughter just went back to school, and my husband just went back to work... 



detail of unfinished painting






























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



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.


March 14, 2018

Abstract Heart



FOCUS: Abstract Heart

Abstract Heart: Passion, emotion, deeply-held beliefs – how do we express and convey these concepts through an abstract vocabulary? Abstract Heart solicits work that speaks from the soul through a personal visual language. ...

Read more
www.woodstockart.org
March 17 – April 29, 2018
Juried by Katie Schmidt Feder
Director Garrison Art Center

EXHIBITING ARTISTS: 
Paulette Esrig, Nils Hill, Henry Klimowicz, 
Jerry Michalak, Samantha Palmeri, Tracy Phillips, Stephen Rose, Barbara Smith, 
Kat Stoutenborough, jd weiss

GALLERY TALK: FRI. MAR 23, 5 PM
RECEPTION: MAR 24, 4-6 PM

I'm pleased to be part of this show opening March 24th in Woodstock, NY. 
I'll have three paintings in it. And how nice they used my image for their advertising!

FOCUS: Abstract Heart




March 17 – April 29, 2018

Gallery Talk: Friday, March 23, 5 PM
Reception: Saturday, March 24, 4 – 6 PMMAIN GALLERY
JUROR: Katie Schmidt Feder, Director Garrison Art Center
AWARDS: Linda Freaney Award $100
Exhibiting Artists:
Paulette Esrig, Nils Hill, Henry Klimowicz,
Jerry Michalak, Samantha Palmeri, Tracy Phillips,
Stephen Rose, Barbara Smith Gioia,
Kat Stoutenborough, and jd weiss
Introduced in 2017, the FOCUS series features the work of ten artists in a theme-based exhibition. Selections are curated by a different juror for each exhibition with each artist represented by multiple examples of their work in service to the particular show’s theme.
Abstract Heart: Passion, emotion, deeply-held beliefs – how do we express and convey these concepts through an abstract vocabulary? Abstract Heart solicits work that speaks from the soul through a personal visual language.

In The Press