Tonight's been productive, as far as I'm concerned. I spent part of the day looking through old notebooks from my senior year art classes, and reading journal entries I made during that time and just after graduation. I was reminded of brainstorms and ideas I'd totally forgotten about. Hopefully, in a few years, I'll stumble upon this blog and it will fulfill the same purpose! One thing I was reminded of was how much I experimented with tracings in my junior and senior years, to various effects. I pulled out my handy pad of tracing paper today, and magic shot from my fingertips like some sort of strange energy field! Before I knew it, four lovely Wesleys lay before me. (Pictures soon!) I took my tracing paper home from the studio, and tonight, during two consecutive viewings of Desperado (commentary off, then on), I maniacally traced Rubies. Part of me wants to consider tracing a form of cheating, and I probably would if I was just going to take the tracings and hang them on the wall. But they're building blocks to a bigger piece of art. Tracing is just another form of duplication in this case, like photocopy transfers, except with more handwork going into the duplicates. I also love the layering possibilities presented by the transparency of the tracing paper. Tracing is comparatively mindless, so the parts of my brain that weren't concerned with getting Ruby's inane expression right or listening to Robert Rodriguez's brilliance or admiring Antonio Banderas' shooting skills were pondering MEANING. On the car ride to my studio today, driving through a heavily latino neighborhood, I started to think about culture, and how much inspiration I get from Mexican art, though I have no ties to their heritage. Do I have a right to borrow that aesthetic, or the ideas behind it? America is such a young country, and we have no long-standing identity. Our modern identity is one I struggle to eschew when abroad. My own cultural heritage is pretty white-bread - I have no deep connection to my Jewish heritage, though I've found Chagall to be incredibly inspiring partially because of the way he incorporates religion into his work. I've talked a lot, and in college written a lot, about how through painting I'm building my own religion, setting up my favorite actors and artists, pop culture figures, as deities. In college, a lot of the aesthetics of my work were drawn from both Medieval religious art and Mexican votives. I feel like I've moved away from that to an extent. At this point, it feels more cultural than religious. I'm building around myself a cultural language. A lot of it references other cultures, but a lot is American. I mean, what is more American than Point Break? (Though hey, the climactic parachute scene takes place over Mexico!) Today at my studio, and tonight while watching Desperado, (more Mexico! My subconscious was really working tonight!....or perhaps Mexico is just a great place for shootouts) I thought a lot about Andy Warhol. It was impossible not to, while working on a painting tentatively titled "Ten Rubies." I'm not as obsessed with celebrity as Warhol was - my choice of subjects is a lot more personal than his Marilyns or Jackies, (Ruby Keeler instead of Angelina Jolie, for example) and hence the paintings I make will be a lot less universal. But I remember reading in a biography of Warhol that he was obsessed with the movies and was absolutely referencing religious art when he created his modern icons. I had admired, but never really liked his art before; once I read that, everything clicked into place. I got it. So I'm glad that these tracing paper duplicates reference that language, because there's definitely a similar idea behind them. I don't really expect anyone to read all of this, it's more for my own reference in a few months (or tomorrow) when I start feeling all dispirited and think my art has no direction or purpose. Oh, yeah. Dave Foley crept in there. I guess I reference Canadian culture, too.
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Sore Arm Part Two: The Sorening. Struggling not to make an incomprehensible Star Trek joke here.10/30/2009 Yet again, my arm is killing me! But this time, it's from a delightful evening of bowling. Regular bowling balls are a lot heavier than those of the candlepin variety! Magically, I've spent a month doing nothing worthy of my art blog! Well, to be fair, I've been wrestling with many real-life problems, the outcome of these internal struggles being that it seems I'm moving to Portland in a month or so. It's not exactly the East Coast destination I had hoped for, but at least it shares a name with an East Coast city. Oh, I jest. I hear that Portland has a young art scene rivaled only by its meth scene, not to mention buckets of rain! Strange to be sick of sunlight. Well, I'm never sick of sunlight. I'm sick of static weather. Portland may not be the best solution to that problem, but for a while it'll do! On the art front, I've been working on several things, but nothing has reached the finished stage. A few things are coming close, and the prospect of updating my website is a delightful motivator! How depressing. I really want to start doing some more paper art. I've been looking at a lot of drawings I admire, and I'm able to loosen up with charcoal in a way I can't with other mediums. A lot of my ideas I feel don't need an entire painting devoted to them, especially the themed "sets" I keep thinking of. Painting out all these ideas simply takes too much time. I think drawing/mixed media would be a good compromise. And there's almost nothing I love more than making a huge charcoal mess! By this time next month I'll be firmly on the path to the next stage of my life. I fully expect to have a mazillion more things to upload here! You know what's annoying? When you're working on a painting, but you can't talk about it or put pictures of it on the internet because it's a gift and must be kept hidden from the world until CHRISTMAS. Shhhh, it's like it only exists in my mind! I'm also moving forward with my dialogue paintings. I spent four hours straight lettering the other day, and my shoulders are SORE. A sneak peak: It still needs to be cleaned up. Also, I was so motivated to begin that I didn't give as much thought to my colors as I should have, and ended up with an unfortunate Dunkin Donuts / Juno effect. In the future, I'll actually put some consideration into it! The idea is to have it be pleasing (or at least interesting) to the eye from afar, a general impression of color and shape, and then resolve into dialogue as the viewer approaches. The conflict between the two characters (almost all the dialogue I've chosen is an intense moment between two people) should be reflected in the tension between the colors, the way they control different parts of the conversation, and canvas. Ok, is that enough Senior Review language for you? Sometimes I don't know if I even mean what I'm saying, or if my brain was forced by art-school environment to make an unfortunate evolutionary leap.
Well, I'm off to read "The Good War"! Only 12 years after it was assigned in school. Sorry, Christopher! I finished a new painting! Sold it, too, which was an exciting first. I'm very pleased with how Data turned out. I'm especially happy about the experience of painting Spot. I haven't tried to paint an animal in some time, and it was fun to attack his face with no clue as to where to start. By the end, I felt like I had lost control. All I know is, I didn't intend for him to look like the demon's spawn, and he kind of does! I don't know how that spirit got in there, but I love it! It made me want to stretch my boundaries more, at the same time as the whole experience made me want to paint more portraits. I'm comfortable with that format, I feel fairly competent, and I enjoy all the baggage that comes along with a portrait - the question of, who is this person, really? Why were they chosen to be immortalized? The idea that a portrait will live on long after its subject is gone, a record forever, fascinates me.
I've also become re-interested in an idea I had a while ago, of painting dialogue from movies I love. I really like this idea because in the most blatant sense, it's one of the things I'm trying to convey with a lot of my paintings - that what can be seen to many as junk can also be viewed as art. And then again - is a canvas with words painted on it art? Oh, so many Benningtony levels of MEANING! I also like the possible relationship to illuminated manuscripts. Hence, I have spent the last two and a half hours watching scenes from movies I love, pausing every few seconds to transcribe the dialogue. (I don't trust IMDb's memorable quotes section OR what screenplays I can find online; I want the genuine article, right out of the actors' mouths!) As a result I have sixteen pages of my little notebook filled and a painful blister on my ring finger from the pen. Oh, the lost art of handwriting! I read an article a few days ago that suggested that cursive may be vanishing from this earth. As an honorable Montessorian, I shuddered - I learned cursive before print, from those wonderful sandpaper letters. ANYWAY, I've now got scenes from Point Break, Damien: Omen II, Black Narcissus, and A Matter of Life and Death a.k.a. Stairway to Heaven. An even split between schlock and brilliance. One thing I'm always amazed by is how many words are in even the shortest of conversations. It makes me want to be even more taciturn. It's no secret to those who know me that I love Patrick Swayze. Or, to put it more precisely, Bodhi. Sure, I'm a girl, so of course I've seen Dirty Dancing a million times, and when I was fifteen I went through a phase where I thought I was S.E. Hinton, so I love The Outsiders and was peeved when one obituary referred to Swayze as Dally instead of Darry. But Point Break was truly the greatest Swayze movie of all. His most powerful onscreen pairing was not with Jennifer Grey or Demi Moore, but with the handsome dullard Keanu Reeves. They were perfect foils, "fire and wood" if you will. They made the tired cliche come alive. You may laugh (many do) but I find that however silly the story may be (delightfully so) the relationship between Bodhi and Johnny Utah feels real and heartwrenching. Swayze spoke every line in that movie like a prophet letting wisdom tumble from his lips. Even "Back off, Warchild. Seriously." I think of his words every time I find myself creeping along the freeway in my metal coffin. The final goodbye absolutely kills me. I rank the last ten minutes or so of Point Break up there with The Searchers and Notorious as Perfect Endings.
I never met Patrick Swayze. I don't feel too sad about his death, maybe because it wasn't much of a surprise. But I have been thinking of him a lot since his death. Mostly I'm just very, very grateful to him for playing such a big part in such a fantastic movie. Like Bodhi, Swayze will live on forever after death. "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through narrow chinks of his cavern."
Doorways! Windows! Arches! Handles! Can you picture what will be? So limitless and free. (The Doors rule, too) My most recent painting is a portrait of David Kennedy, a dear friend of my parents' who has done some amazing work with inner city gangs. His approach to gang violence and gun control had an amazing effect in Boston during the 90s, and he's been coordinating similar programs in other cities. He was recently profiled in the New Yorker, and to honor this prestigious event, my parents commissioned a portrait of him embodying one of the phrases used in the article, describing him as a "high plains drifter." This is quite apt; David looks like Jesus dressed like John Cusack in "Grosse Point Blank."
I like how this painting turned out, but I fear it can't rival the illustration of David in the New Yorker. Once you've got that, you know you've made it! I'm working on a portrait right now of this cool guy which will be done in a few days, so in lieu of any new pictures I'm going to make a handy list of artists I admire! I'll try to stick to living artists, since my list of historical figures could go on forever.
www.martin-munoz.com/ These two artists, Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz, do a lot of amazing stuff, but I particularly love their perverse series of snowglobes. I want to steal their ideas. www.brandonbird.com/ I first became aware of Brandon Bird in college. At a very stressful point in my education, his work reminded me that it was ok to have fun with painting. Plus, his subject matter is awesome! His Deep Space 9 paintings singlehandedly convinced me to give that show another try (and I loved it). I only mourn that I missed the Law & Order art show. www.pamgolden.com/ Pam was my art teacher from 3-13, and is no doubt one of the main reasons I'm pursuing art today! She instilled in me a great respect for spirals, and the belief that art and life cannot be separated. Her chair sculptures are beautiful. I love her use of mixed media. faithmouse.blogspot.com/ I have an absurd love for anyone who paints one thing obsessively. (See also Louis Wain, painter of cats). www.gallerypauleanglim.com/Gallery_Paule_Anglim/Enrique_Chagoya.html Chagoya is probably my absolute favorite living artist. Everything he does blows me away. The clarity of his ideas, the simplicity of the way he puts them across, and the incredible collage of images and ideas he achieves both inspires and intimidates me. I would love to see some of his work in person! A new painting is up!! They're Like Ghosts was meant to be the first in a Point Break series, but halfway through the painting I realized that what I really wanted to do was a Keanu series. The painting was put aside, poor Lori Petty still pupil-less. I finally finished it today in an unheard of burst of productivity. Even though it no longer fits into my series, featuring only Petty and a blurry Swayze, I have great fondness for it, because its beginning heralded my return to oil paint after more than two years of acrylic. I had forgotten the delicious, foodlike texture of oil paint, the flexibility afforded by the long drying period, the colors.... I'm never going back.
Once the paint is on the brush, I'm set. I know what I'm doing, I do it, and I have fun. But the effort it takes to get there! I don't know why, but from the moment I enter my studio I have to talk myself into working, step by step. I can spend an hour just staring at the wall, thinking, when I know that I don't really have to think, I just have to do. On this note, I have resolved to pick up a thread I dropped ages ago, and do some less formal, more improvisational work, in the form of movie posters. Awesome movie posters. Like these: Except, you know, pertaining to my daily life. Or how I wish my daily life was. I suspect Zac Efron will be making an appearance. It's been far too long since I last painted his glowing blue eye.
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Julia Cooper
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