Here's a pic of the lovely Lucy and me at Red Gallery, at the opening of 'Flick of the Wrist' in February.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Lu and I at Red Gallery in Nelson
Here's a pic of the lovely Lucy and me at Red Gallery, at the opening of 'Flick of the Wrist' in February.
More things I'm thinking about
"We don't just think with our brains. We think with our bodies." Jürgen Steek
"It's not that the creative act and the critical act are simultaneous. It's more like you blurt something out and then analyze it." Robert Motherwell
"It may be that the deep necessity of art is the examination of self-deception." Robert Motherwell
"It's not that the creative act and the critical act are simultaneous. It's more like you blurt something out and then analyze it." Robert Motherwell
"It may be that the deep necessity of art is the examination of self-deception." Robert Motherwell
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Five minutes
To write some thoughts.
Things I want to remember and build on:
• Camouflage - how else do we hide? (disambiguation - what a cool word!)
• passages of light
• metaphors for movement and change
• independent of thought - what is that? - automatic?
• What else contains memory but chooses to obey?
Things I want to remember and build on:
• Camouflage - how else do we hide? (disambiguation - what a cool word!)
• passages of light
• metaphors for movement and change
• independent of thought - what is that? - automatic?
• What else contains memory but chooses to obey?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Sunday Batucada drum day...
... End of the fun day.
We broke down the show today to the sounds of the Batucada drummers upstairs and now I'm chilling wearily to Eddie Vedder with the last of my single malt whiskey and a low key sense of completion.
What a cool week.
Yesterday was wonderfully wild - I did a floor talk for the folks from the Deaf Association, and their spirited interest was a total delight. Their CEO Rachel Noble has bought 'Words Emerge Like Birds' (the large key piece from the exhibition) for the national office in Auckland so everyone in the deaf community can enjoy it (and to me it's where it belongs - I'm SO pleased). It feels like the whole project was worth it for their total engagement, I couldn't have wished for a better response to my work.
You know last time I felt it; and this week's been the same... this sense of privilege about being there and being part of the Thistle fabric for a short while.
You sit with your work in the quiet times, contemplating the completion and incompletion of it, (planning where to next and thinking about what the hell it is that viewers respond to) and you talk about it ad infinitum on request... And then you meet all these GREAT people.
In my Moleskine there's a page of addresses, websites and insights. Incredibly precious. Richard, if you're reading this, talking to you was great, I'd like to stay in touch - and Gill too, I'll be there tomorrow at your opening.
On Friday Peter McLeavey came in to see me. I hoped he would, but you know... mumble mumble (somebody slap me why don't you).
He sat and talked about painting from your heart (and listening to the murmur it -I didn't realise he operated so much on that level, and I'm glad; a consummate salesman who appeals to and operates from the heart - no wonder he's been so successful), of finding someone to represent you (or waiting for them to find you) who loves your work with the same passion you do, and of consolidating and doing the work over the next two years before showing again. I'm not sure I can manage that - but I know where he's coming from.
I think I'll always fight the need to paint versus the ability to draw, and the frustration of being less eloquent in one medium than I'd like, but I reckon it just means plenty of room to grow and lots to learn. A wealth of possibilities. Gad the potential of it's so exciting!
Only one regret - I didn't get anyone definite to photograph the opening night. Alan's translation was apparently something to behold as I read my speech. Six foot, built like a lock and standing behind me as I talked... I wish I could have seen.
OK, so now I'm off to bed and not much looking forward to a gear change tomorrow. Has anyone got any bright ideas for the reentry phase? - I'm totally crap at it !!
We broke down the show today to the sounds of the Batucada drummers upstairs and now I'm chilling wearily to Eddie Vedder with the last of my single malt whiskey and a low key sense of completion.
What a cool week.
Yesterday was wonderfully wild - I did a floor talk for the folks from the Deaf Association, and their spirited interest was a total delight. Their CEO Rachel Noble has bought 'Words Emerge Like Birds' (the large key piece from the exhibition) for the national office in Auckland so everyone in the deaf community can enjoy it (and to me it's where it belongs - I'm SO pleased). It feels like the whole project was worth it for their total engagement, I couldn't have wished for a better response to my work.
You know last time I felt it; and this week's been the same... this sense of privilege about being there and being part of the Thistle fabric for a short while.
You sit with your work in the quiet times, contemplating the completion and incompletion of it, (planning where to next and thinking about what the hell it is that viewers respond to) and you talk about it ad infinitum on request... And then you meet all these GREAT people.
In my Moleskine there's a page of addresses, websites and insights. Incredibly precious. Richard, if you're reading this, talking to you was great, I'd like to stay in touch - and Gill too, I'll be there tomorrow at your opening.
On Friday Peter McLeavey came in to see me. I hoped he would, but you know... mumble mumble (somebody slap me why don't you).
He sat and talked about painting from your heart (and listening to the murmur it -I didn't realise he operated so much on that level, and I'm glad; a consummate salesman who appeals to and operates from the heart - no wonder he's been so successful), of finding someone to represent you (or waiting for them to find you) who loves your work with the same passion you do, and of consolidating and doing the work over the next two years before showing again. I'm not sure I can manage that - but I know where he's coming from.
I think I'll always fight the need to paint versus the ability to draw, and the frustration of being less eloquent in one medium than I'd like, but I reckon it just means plenty of room to grow and lots to learn. A wealth of possibilities. Gad the potential of it's so exciting!
Only one regret - I didn't get anyone definite to photograph the opening night. Alan's translation was apparently something to behold as I read my speech. Six foot, built like a lock and standing behind me as I talked... I wish I could have seen.
OK, so now I'm off to bed and not much looking forward to a gear change tomorrow. Has anyone got any bright ideas for the reentry phase? - I'm totally crap at it !!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Two more sleeps...
The title says it all. 'Beyond Words' opens on Monday night and I think I'm ready, a little flighty but ready. Despite losing the studio keys and creating a minor tornado in the looking... I really think I'm sorted now.
I feel like a media slut (thanks Sarah so true!) this week - the PR arm is working overtime and the show publicity is being seen in the best possible places. I've done some online Q&A's - fun 'cause they make you think (what would YOU make with a stick, a piece of fabric and a piece of string?) and make you dream (if you had a million dollars to spend on your art what would YOU do?)
After the framing, eyeleting, DVD making and projecting, catering and bar service have each been sorted, there remains the ever sodding burden of pricing.
I've not met any artists who don't put themselves and their doubts to the test on this one. It's not easy. I've asked a number of people what they think and I've been reading up on it this afternoon.
One site here says ..."Any insights, enlightenments, sufferings, or inner pain you experience while creating art are your own business. Don't bill collectors for it. People in all professions have intense emotional experiences just like you, but you rarely see the prices of milk, plumbing, clothes, or other goods or services fluctuate wildly as a result."
Nice.
Or this lovely image from another site: " In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back, while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are "limbs" therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the expression "Okay, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg."
Great -that'd make my drawings priceless - they're all limbs and hands!
Here's another option - not much better, but funny. San Francisco painter/printmaker Abigail Linfert joked, "Sometimes I think I should do what professors reportedly do with term papers-throw them down some stairs. The ones at the top would be most expensive and the ones at the bottom would be cheapest."
Actually the rest of the advice on this site's not bad.
I tend to go with size, comparable work by comparably experienced artists (which relies on you knowing a few) and a theory of value to me.
What I call 'Jesse's offer'. It goes 'if I gave you $100 would you give me that painting or will you keep it? - Ok If I give you $150 etc ...' It works in combo with the size method (especially when you add framing costs into the mix too).
Bob's advice was to price affordably and build slowly and steadily throughout your career. He's done that, and now I can't afford one of his lovely paintings!
In the end after all that - I go with a hunch, I mean in your gut you DO know. You certainly know when you're being untrue.
Well, off to the wholesaler to buy scrummy food for the opening now.
I feel like a media slut (thanks Sarah so true!) this week - the PR arm is working overtime and the show publicity is being seen in the best possible places. I've done some online Q&A's - fun 'cause they make you think (what would YOU make with a stick, a piece of fabric and a piece of string?) and make you dream (if you had a million dollars to spend on your art what would YOU do?)
After the framing, eyeleting, DVD making and projecting, catering and bar service have each been sorted, there remains the ever sodding burden of pricing.
I've not met any artists who don't put themselves and their doubts to the test on this one. It's not easy. I've asked a number of people what they think and I've been reading up on it this afternoon.
One site here says ..."Any insights, enlightenments, sufferings, or inner pain you experience while creating art are your own business. Don't bill collectors for it. People in all professions have intense emotional experiences just like you, but you rarely see the prices of milk, plumbing, clothes, or other goods or services fluctuate wildly as a result."
Nice.
Or this lovely image from another site: " In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back, while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are "limbs" therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the expression "Okay, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg."
Great -that'd make my drawings priceless - they're all limbs and hands!
Here's another option - not much better, but funny. San Francisco painter/printmaker Abigail Linfert joked, "Sometimes I think I should do what professors reportedly do with term papers-throw them down some stairs. The ones at the top would be most expensive and the ones at the bottom would be cheapest."
Actually the rest of the advice on this site's not bad.
I tend to go with size, comparable work by comparably experienced artists (which relies on you knowing a few) and a theory of value to me.
What I call 'Jesse's offer'. It goes 'if I gave you $100 would you give me that painting or will you keep it? - Ok If I give you $150 etc ...' It works in combo with the size method (especially when you add framing costs into the mix too).
Bob's advice was to price affordably and build slowly and steadily throughout your career. He's done that, and now I can't afford one of his lovely paintings!
In the end after all that - I go with a hunch, I mean in your gut you DO know. You certainly know when you're being untrue.
Well, off to the wholesaler to buy scrummy food for the opening now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)