Replies: 15 Comments
on Monday, May 5th, jose said
Mark, when I’m at work I try as much as possible to stay in the moment as well, it wouldn't work for me either if I weren't at least trying to get there. The time between shows used to be sufficiently ample so as not to affect the work, and it wasn't as if I ever had a set date to show - I would paint and when the time came, someway or another an opportunity to show kind of came along and I would take it or not [I declined quite a few possibilities for different reasons I’d rather not get into right now]. I guess my blog isn't really accurate when I say there isn't an interest in showing what I’m doing in an exhibition somewhere down the line - the only time I truly didn't have that thought in the back of my mind was in those years in college when I was doing it for the heck of it. Ever since I showed them a first time and decided to become an artist I think I somehow lost the right to that claim to innocence - somewhere, even if deep down inside where I can forget t, the ego's thirst for recognition eventually comes to the forefront.
on Monday, May 5th, Mark said
I live in and love the country, no city boy here tho I was raised just outside of Washington DC, I need the sounds, smells and views of the country. I like the solitude as well.
Each painting for me is done for the joy of doing it. I can not think of future shows, dealers, galleries or buyers. I have to stay in the moment to create my best work. I am not saying it is the only way, as we are all different, just that is how I have to work.
on Sunday, May 4th, Brad Michael Moore said
"A mover is a trader of spices - how fondly we await the trader..." - Brad Michael Moore
on Sunday, May 4th, Ellen said
Jose-
It's there; trust me: if you can write about these feelings, at the center of you is the core that is expressing doubt, unrest, etc. As long as you recognize yourself, you are intact!
Andrew-
You can keep reinventing yourself & starting from zero, but your work is so impressive and wonderful...It's always difficult to raise your bar. That's why we work so hard
Sorry to sound pontifical, but if I didn't believe, I'd pack it in. I had a really rough winter filled with self-doubt and two wonderful people encouraged me. They, perhaps, didn't realize their impact, but I held on to their advice like it was a life raft. However, I could not give in/up. Keep working: it's better to look back having done it, than not.
on Sunday, May 4th, jose said
Andrew, I’m sure you have been going about your career the right way, maybe sculptors and painters just have different MO’s. It’s a fact that most sculptors I know show less than the painters I know and yet sell more and move along and make a reputation for themselves through commissions and public works. Perhaps this has to do with a sculptural piece having more presence, whereas for the painter the commission – the hefty ones for public places – only seem to come by when someone looks at the CV that accompanies the paintings and is suitably impressed. For some mysterious reason a painting doesn’t throw out such convincing a punch. Not that I relish the idea of getting a commission – I’ve had two in my career so far, for religious institutions; one I completed, the other I let slip away politely because I felt immediately we would never see eye-to-eye on the vision we each wanted to project. Here again, I think sculptors have more leverage in that department – more tools to circumvent the odds and get the job done. The painter is too easily cornered into painting the painting that goes well with the matching curtains and couch or not setting his eyes on the paycheque.
Or maybe it was simply my insecurity when I first set out to show my work and I’m looking for an excuse – maybe I didn’t believe in myself sufficiently to just come out and say: this is what you’ll get, don’t really care if you pay for it or not. I know now that I probably would have sold it if I had had the guts – but I didn’t know or feel it at the time. And so that maybe explains why I went about trying to build-up a semblance of a CV [I still don’t think it is particularly impressive, but I’ve learnt how to say ‘this is what you will get, regardless’].
Congratulations on your first Solo show, great news! Hope everything works out as you wish, that you sell en masse and are forced to start from scratch all over again. I know no greater felling, it’s like a cleansing of the soul.
Ellen, but that’s the toughie, I sometimes wonder if anything interesting and powerful enough has stuck at the core after all this moving about. What if they scratch at the veneer and there’s nothing underneath but stories I’ve made up and forced myself to believe along the way? Yikes!
on Sunday, May 4th, Ellen said
Being a stranger or a "fish out of water," is part of art for me. I really don't feel "part" of anywhere except my work when I am before it as it progresses. When it's finished, it's time to move on. Although I am an American, I felt comfortable in Europe, as well as the US, but most comfortable alone, in my studio: working and dreaming my day dreams. One of those silly "get-to-know-yourself & friends" questionaires was emailed to me. The questions ran like favorite TV show, drink, ect. Two of the questions stopped me cold: furtherest you have been on vacation and color crayon you would be in the big Crayola box (weren't those marvelous in school!). To the first I answered: my mind and the second I said "clear" or "colorless." I prefer to travel in my head constantly and I like going unnoticed so that I can quietly observe. Brad, you can always return. The question is what you will find in yourself. Mars is great! Jose, in my opinion, your work reflects your core which is with you no matter where you are. The veneer of other places just adds the details, perhaps.
on Sunday, May 4th, Andrew said
Jose, it's funny about shows, reading your article made me recall that I have never done a one man show since I started my life as a sculptor. My first is scheduled for next September, but even that isn't a sure thing. So when you mention that you have worked on things to make them become a part of something larger, and now find yourself painting just for the sheer joy of painting, I can't help but say to myself, 'well what is it that I've been doing?'
The larger thing that each work I do becomes a part of, is my lifetime collection. And I have to say, that with an increase in numbers, it becomes steadily harder to raise the level of quality of the whole through single works. Wish I could start again from zero!
on Sunday, May 4th, jose said
Brad,
how curious that you sometimes think about going back to the city. You’ve moved out to where I yearn to be – the vast expanses where we can hear ‘ourselves’ in our dialogue with this great orb that hosts us - and from what I can sense at this distance through your words you’ve placed new roots in a place that makes you feel whole and quite productive, judging by your artistic output. You mention adaptation. I sometimes ask myself how much of me is lost in adaptation and how much do I gain out of it? It is an important question to me because Art is, in my particular and personal sphere of action, about putting ‘myself’ into the work – not merely about superficial reproduction or show of aesthetics. Adaptation is all I know since the age of two when my parents took me on that boat south to Africa and it hasn’t stopped since - every three or four years, sometimes more frequently. I don’t think I could trace my way back as easily as you to who and what I was as a boy. I know there was a feeling of there being more space around me until about the age of 12 when I was shipped back to boarding school in Portugal, and Europe, where the feeling of there being a next country and closed frontiers [that I still feel today, even though they’ve been brought down] was always too close… I often wonder what went lost in adapting to that. In fact I often wonder ‘where’ the hell I really am. I manage to feel at home everywhere but I am profoundly aware that I am a stranger – someone who is merely passing by - everywhere, and nowhere more so than in my own country. So, if I am a stranger, even to myself, how can I pour myself convincingly and honestly into my work? I am back at the question of hiding behind alibis. Perhaps I am and I just have to face it.
on Sunday, May 4th, Brad Michael Moore said
Jose,
When I lived in the city (Dallas, Texas, and Los Angeles, California, USA) - I got around very well, and I knew where to go to find the most unique offerings available. I was a "city boy" - no doubt. However I yearned for the solitude of the country - to better hear my own thoughts. I moved, and became a "country boy." Now I cannot imagine how I could ever go back - but I do imagine - "What if I did?" It is scary to consider. Still, I know I could - if only to become that child again - the first time at the candy store. So many things I miss living in the middle of the 'wide-open' and away from all else. I miss going to the hand-made paper store, or the Neon Factory, and the sculptor's studios. We, as humans, are so adept at redefining ourselves to fit into changed environments - it is our nature to adapt. That is why we seek to reach Mars in our imaginations. Curiosity over new surroundings brings our feral receptors, most instinctive, back into play. It is our nature as humans to move, and our need to feed our ideas to continue stirring the pot of our imaginations. I know I am meeting only a small bit of your blog in this discussion - but sometimes - a turn of a phrase can begin a novel... Brad Michael Moore
on Friday, May 2nd, jose said
Fernando, meu querido amigo, que boa surpresa. Sabemos, tu e eu, que no momento em que proferimos aquele ‘nunca mais’ logo de seguida teríamos entregue os quadros que levantámos na bienal seguinte se oportunidade houvesse. Sozinho hesitaria com toda a probabilidade, deixaria passar um ano ou dois entre ‘desgostos’, ora um ano ou dois começa a ser uma preciosidade que custa deixar passar assim sem mais nem menos. Eu posso inclusivamente afirmar que sei tudo aquilo que me dizes mas quantas vezes esquecemos aquilo que sabemos e precisamos que, com amizade, nos relembrem. Possamos nós ter muitas mais oportunidades para dizer ‘nunca mais’ e, juntos, arrastar esta barca um nadinha mais para a frente.
Fernando, dear friend, what a pleasant surprise. You and I both know that the moment we blurted out that ‘never again’ we would have been ready to submit those very same paintings we collected to the next biennial had there been an opportunity to do so. Alone, I would have hesitated in all probability, I would have let one or two years go by between the ‘heartbreak’, but a year or two is starting to be something too dear to let slip by so easily. I could even say that I am already familiar with everything you say but how often do we forget what we already know and rely on others to remind us, kindly. May we have many opportunities to say ‘never again’ and nudge this boat just a tad forward, together.
Walt, don’t you worry. Let’s not fall into the obligation of commenting or feeling guilty for not posting a response, or feeling slighted [which I know you don’t] because none was posted. I know sometimes I have a hard time focusing on what to write, not because I disagree or am not moved by the text, but simply because other things in life take precedence at that particular time. This should be something we enjoy doing and not become a burden, and I am sure, and I hope, that Markus will let us know, on the sidelines, when we are driving viewers away and that it is time to let others step into our shoes.
About that prize, you are absolutely right – I think it’s about one dollar fifty to the euro. Great prize, ain’t it? It’s the 9th edition and this year it’s turned international, it used to be called the Vespeira Prize – Marcelino Vespeira [1925 – 2002] was one of our better known contemporary artists forging a name for himself in portuguese surrealism.
Ellen, I couldn’t agree more. One of the things that troubled me in the initial stages was people insisting that I would have to find a defining style. They would say this implying, of course, that once you found it, you stuck to it, because that was what would make you known – people would know you to be this or that. The moment you start being this AND that you risk throwing them off balance because they cease to know where to box you in. We spoke about this in one of Walt’s recent blogs. Like you I need to look for different experiences and perspectives on how to approach whatever it is I want to do, there is no ONE way to tackle everything and some things simply can’t be tackled unless you find the right angle. The style thing is, in my modest opinion, a myth. In the end it’s how an artist moves through different styles and experiences that makes it interesting.
on Friday, May 2nd, jose / for fernando said
Walt, Ellen, let me first translate what Fernando has posted before I get down to responding to the three of you.
Olá companheiro [dispenses translation I’m sure]
That’s right, ‘never say never’. If we knew everything today, tomorrow wouldn’t be any fun. You know, when an artist has inner strength and his own voice, and when he doesn’t sail with the flow of the currents, and sometimes even against the current, it isn’t easy for the minds and the powers that are in place to accept him. Easy, is more of the same; recognizing and applauding what others recognized in the past; without facing obstacles or discussion; to sing in chorus with the powers that be.
You know that the ‘click’ of discovery/difference isn’t only within us, it is also in the gaze of others. And there is very little we can do about that, except to say ‘never again’, and then do it all over again to give the World an opportunity.
on Friday, May 2nd, Ellen said
Jose- This constant shifting, changing, evolving is, in my mind at the core of art. Attempting new projects and moving on seems to be positive. I took a workshop with a well known water colorist a number of years ago. The artist's work could not be dated for although it spanned over a 50 year period, it all looked very similar. The subject matter never changed, the way a tree was painted remained the same: hundreds of paintings. There was one significant change in the work: the artist limited the palette to only three pigments later in life. From these colors (they changed with each painting), the work was created. The effect was a slight dulling down of the images. The art was reflected in the home of the artist: nothing had changed in 40 years. I don't fault this artist, who had a large following and consistantly sold and won prizes from the most enviable US societies. We were friends and I never expressed anything but positives when I was with this artist, who was a sensitive individual. But, personally, I continue to move on. I continue to explore and expand, not shrink, my world. All the best in your future explorations, Jose!
on Friday, May 2nd, walt said
Jose, I haven't commented because I fear I'm in one of those dark moods and my curmudgeons nature is coming through too strongly. It's the end of the school year and I begin trying to push lazy students to work harder. It tends to bleed over into other topics. Not that you have anything to do with that. In fact I so enjoyed reading your thoughts on this project and your progress and your future goals that I relaxed a little. I so admire your energy and your focus.
What I would like to point out to artists in the U.S. is the dollar amount of the prize you are speaking of. I'm not sure what the value of the Dollar to the Euro is exactly at the moment, maybe less than I am thinking. But 15,000 Euros would be somewhere between 20-25,000 Dollars. There simply aren't any competitions in the U.S. with that kind of prize money these days. And there haven't been any purses like that in quite a long while. It certainly makes one wonder about our supposed economic domination of the world.
on Friday, May 2nd, walt said
Jose, I haven't commented because I fear I'm in one of those dark moods and my curmudgeons nature is coming through too strongly. It's the end of the school year and I begin trying to push lazier students to work harder. It tends to bleed over into other topics. Not that you have anything to do with that. In fact I so enjoyed reading your thoughts on this project and progress and your future goals that I relaxed a little. I so admire your energy and your focus.
on Friday, May 2nd, vidaldasilva@gmail.com">Fernando Vidal said
Olá companheiro.
Pois é, 'nunca digas nunca’.
Se soubéssemos tudo hoje o amanhã não teria graça.
Sabes que quando o artista tem força interior e expressão própria, e não navega ao sabor da corrente, muitas vezes até contra a corrente, não se torna fácil aos poderes ou mentes instituídas aceitá-lo.
Fácil, é mais do mesmo.
Reconhecer e aplaudir o que já foi reconhecido por outros no passado. Não tem entraves nem discussão. Fazer coro com o que está instituído.
Sabes que o 'clic' da descoberta/diferença não está só em nós, está também no olhar dos outros. E quanto a isso há muito pouco a fazer.
A não ser, dizer 'nunca mais', para depois fazer tudo outra vez, dando uma oportunidade ao mundo.
Um abraço amigo. [FV]
There, I’ve done it again. I said I wouldn’t but I’ve fallen for it one more time: wrapped two paintings up last week and drove them south of the river for the Montijo International biennial that is scheduled for August. You’re thinking that I’m not a man of my word and you are right – in one of my last videos [and a blog] you do hear me and fellow studio-buddy Fernando Vidal saying ‘Never Again’. He’s to blame; not so much for the ‘never again’ but for luring me into the trap when he walked in to the studio with a devious grin on his face and the application forms in his hand. The prize is too good to ignore: 15000 euros for first prize in painting – and, as Fernando keeps reminding me, the worst that can happen is for the jury to say no and we’ve both accumulated sufficient anti-bodies to rejection to come out of it with any significant bruises.
