Showing posts with label works in progress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label works in progress. Show all posts

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 anyone else feeling this way-
Keep working! little by little by little... 


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











June 20, 2018

Gratitude for Summer solstice and dirty fingernails

I think I remember telling someone once how much I loved having dirty fingernails if it was from gardening or painting!

I'm writing this just as the summer solstice is about to circle back around to us, and I couldn't be happier. I'm starting to think the six months of cold weather we get around here is like five months too many. So, this summer I am making every effort to celebrate the weather and outdoor living.

I'm always looking for opportunities for artist residencies or fairs in places like Italy and France, but this week I realized I can create my own artist residency right here. I've been working on my pastel and charcoal drawings en plein air, aka the patio, in between dips in the pool and visits from friends. Life is good!

Every morning I go out to the yard and switch my slippers to rubber boots to water the vegetable garden. There's something about the ritual of this activity that makes me so happy. I'm not a very patient person, but I seem to be really good at watching the plants grow...

Anyway, Happy Summer. Hope we are all able to make the most of it!

















Plants and drawings: all works in progress

All images © 2018 Samantha Palmeri
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January 4, 2016

My Art Studio

 The studio today looks like this:

Samantha Palmeri drawing
a room full of black and white drawings on new 22X30" watercolor paper

Samantha Palmeri drawing
figuring out where they want to go all on their own..


    
Samantha Palmeri
dirty hands
Samantha Palmeri art studio
I mean, cold, dirty hands. in 4 hrs. the temp. moved only 3 degrees: 57 to 60




Tomorrow the studio will look completely different, I guarantee it...

December 3, 2015

A Safe, Easy Way To...

I'm currently working on a project with a writer friend. He sends me writing, I send him pictures in response. At least that's the plan. So far all I've managed to do is read and re-read the words he's sent me over and over. It's more challenging than I first imagined because every time I read them, they sound completely different and I keep coming up with different answers...

It's making me realize how easy it is to misconstrue things, and with all our preconceived notions, how quick we are to jump to conclusions and assign swift judgements. Human brains do this automatically. We categorize everything the second our senses get hold of it.

When it comes to the written word, there's no doubt that the more times you read something the better you understand it. I'm sure that I've thrown out and deleted so many letters and messages that I completely misunderstood because I looked at them too quickly. You read something like a text message once and immediately respond thinking you know exactly what it's all about, but it happens that if you read it again three or four times you start to hear that person's voice a lot clearer and realize that you may have had it all wrong. I'm sure there are little misunderstandings like this going on all over the place all day long.
But I'm getting off the subject...

What I want to say is that when you look at a painting, it's exactly the same thing. It needs to be contemplated over and over. Because art is complex, every time you look at it you might see something different. It's naive to expect viewers to be open minded but it's kind of a requirement when looking at art. Letting things go opens you up, opens your mind. Letting go of the quick judgement/categorization that automatically happens when we look at a work of art frees us to see it in a more truthful light, as it really is.

Once you've assessed and categorized something it's like you've closed the box on it. For example, it looks like a whale, it must be a whale, all I see is a whale, end of story. You've already dismissed it and you probably only spent about 15 seconds on it. According to statistics, the average museum visitor spends an average of 15-30 seconds in front of a work of art. 
(It took me longer to write this paragraph.)


detail work in progress, charcoal on canvas
Lately I've attempted through the strictest frugality of materials to discourage this kind of quick categorization of my own work, but it's nearly impossible. I'm fine with people seeing whales or dancers or whatever else they see in my abstractions, as long as the story doesn't end there. There should always be more to discover the more you look at a work of art. No simple explanation should be able to easily dismiss it.
Like great poetry or jazz, you should be able to discover something new every time you stand before it.

detail work in progress, charcoal on canvas
I recently had an interesting conversation about the significance of working in a museum. How profound an experience it is to be exposed to a collection of artwork something like 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. Being in the presence of great works of art for that amount of time, especially if there are few others around, can be a meditative and intimate experience. (The Rothko Chapel comes to mind.) One gains a rare understanding of the work in a way that the average viewer never could. When I worked as a gallery assistant during an exhibition in 1997, After The Fall curated by Lilly Wei, I learned so much. I would say I learned more about abstract painting from that experience than 4 years of college. 

It's a serious luxury to have that kind of intimacy with a roomful of great artworks, but there are great luxuries to be had everyday by most of us if we pay attention. Knowing first hand how challenging it is to keep an open mind, if anything at all can be gained from a better understanding of the world around me, of art, of life, I'm willing to make an attempt to slow down a tiny bit and give it at least a few more seconds of my time.

Hopefully you are too...








June 10, 2015

"You see, I want a lot"

One of my favorite books of poetry is
Rilke's Book of Hours/ Love Poems to God
by Rainer Maria Rilke

detail of current painting in progress titled Save me from my Desires

I've read it through so many times yet I always find something inspiring.
Written in German and translated, here are two worth rereading:
 

Ich glaube an Alles noch nie Gesagte

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.
I want to free what waits within me
so that what no one has dared to wish for

may for once spring clear
without my contriving.

If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,
but this is what I need to say.
May what I do flow from me like a river,
no forcing and no holding back,
the way it is with children.

Then in these swelling and ebbing currents,
these deepening tides moving out, returning,
I will sing you as no one ever has,

streaming through widening channels
into the open sea.


Du siehst, ich will viel

You see, I want a lot.
Maybe I want it all:
the darkness of each endless fall,
the shimmering light of each ascent.

So many are alive who don't seem to care.
Casual, easy, they move in the world
as though untouched.

But you take pleasure in the faces
of those who know they thirst.
You cherish those
who grip you for survival.

You are not dead yet, it's not too late
to open your depths by plunging into them
and drink in the life
that reveals itself quietly there.








December 30, 2014

the life of a painting

started the day finishing these two paintings...



...and ended the day with something entirely different
I guess I missed my old lines


How do you get a line to smile at you or say hello to the line standing next to it?
or "Merry Christmas" or "I saw you in the supermarket last week"?
Is this possible? Can lines exchange such pleasantries?
Should they be required to make such small talk?

There comes a moment in the life of a painting when
it's not enough to leave behind an idea that something may have just happened here.
There comes a moment when line needs to speak to line,
with color asking all the questions for a change.

This way we could all be in it together, frolicking around, acting out.

I'm not quite there yet... almost.


















November 14, 2014

scenes from my art studio, November 14th


I have had a renewed determination lately to get as much work done as humanly possible. It all started with an amazing and inspiring talk at the Garrison Art Center by artist Judy Pfaff (who I'll write more on later as she is my absolute new favorite artist). It also coincided with what I thought would be an open studio event at my studio building last week, which by the way, didn't even know had a name: "KUBE". Although it turned out to be free chips and red wine for someone else's opening, I ended up with an organized and raring to go studio space, which is always a much needed good thing.

here's my space last week just about ready for company

This morning I started my day looking around and thinking,
"I don't know what the hell I'm doing but I sure am doing a hell of a lot of it".

studio view this morning November 14th, 2014

sculpture pieces

It's been an interesting week. Monday I met my studio neighbor for the first time and another painter down the hall. Tuesday I brought my daughter to work with me. Wednesday I went and bought some new painting tools to play with and a space heater to keep me from freezing. Guess whose landlord decided to turn the heat on as soon as I plugged it in?

space heater
painting tools

my new favorite toy
Thursday I ended up cleaning all my brushes before I went home. I also may have had a great moment of clarity (which doesn't happen often by the way), so much that I changed my plans for Friday so I could spend another day working.

dirty paint brushes


I now have 6 paintings I am working on simultaneously, the source of which is all the same two globs I've had tacked to my wall for years.

meet my muse: the mark on the right and his dialogue


















After all of this and due to all of it, the end of the day, and week, appeared much more promising than the start of it.

the two pieces I worked on today
this one might actually be finished
this one definitely isn't






September 18, 2014

art studio activity

this was my studio at 10 am this morning. lots of activity going on. all very new works in progress.

studio view




this series of small paintings each measure 16X20"
remember those drawings I did of the ocean?!

oil paintings 
I'm still having fun with my spray foam and have been going back and forth between the painting and the sculpture. new this week are the braids.
braided sculpture 

I'm also trying out different metallic paints on them. it just occurred to me this is my spray foam ball and chain!

Samantha Palmeri spray foam sculpture 2014
oil paint and metallic pigment

and here's the studio at the end of the day. a little cleaner and with three new canvases on the left just barely started.

studio view