Alberta Landscape #57

It had been over two months since I went field painting, and last week I finally got my kit together and made another foray.  The evening light on this hillside is so beautiful - and hard to catch!  The composition of my painting is also not as strong as it could be, but oh well, it was great to be out there meditating with a brush in my hand.

photo courtesy of a friendly passerby

environment

First:  I awake in a world in which there is no means of preserving knowledge apart from human memory.  Imagine that.  Imagine the structures necessary: the checks and balances, the formal positions.

Second:  I push the button on the machine that washes the clothes.

I am fascinated with the things we humans make - in particular the environments we create.  It seems to me that a growing part of our collective identity manifests itself in urban environments.  This is what we leave behind: relics of the practical application of our imaginations.  This is what I explore in my paintings.  I use various techniques and mediums to make aesthetically diverse work, but underpinning every effort is a further exploration of the urban environment: the environment we have evolved to create for ourselves.

It may be argued that we as individuals do not create our environments, but rather that a select few have that power and the rest of humanity learns to live with what the few create.  But I am talking about a broader scope of human evolution here, and for the most part do not care for political positions when I am working in the studio.

What I really care about in the studio is this: how this colour interacts with that one; how this brush mark has a certain feeling; how that shape resonates.  The paintings are built, layer by layer, from the ground up.  Like most built things, more than one choice of technique and material is possible for a successful outcome.  

That having been said, I have posted images of the completed outdoor paintings here.

journey

I have been working on several different streams of painting; here is one stream nearly complete.  These are my outdoor paintings - begun in May, they have been made entirely out in the yard.  There are 10 paintings in total, not all visible here.  

The Alberta Flood Rose Project

A few weeks ago, in addition to documenting the turbulent waters of the Bow river, I made and donated some small paintings to a very interesting flood relief project.

The project was initiated by artist Terri Heinricks, who wanted to help with relief efforts after several rivers in southern Alberta flooded their banks, wreaking havoc for many.  

Terri made the Alberta Flood Rose Project website and put out a call to artists, asking for 4x4" wall pieces depicting Alberta' provincial flower, the wild rose..  Around 450 artists responded!

Here's a short video about the Alberta Flood Rose Project, and a link to the site's gallery page, which shows all the work together.  They do look fantastic!

I feel so honoured to be able to participate in this initiative.  Like many other artists, I wanted to help with flood relief efforts in a substantial way.  How better to do so than to work collectively to create something larger than any one of us could do alone?  

I don't often paint flowers, and it was lovely to sit in our garden, enjoying the activity of the bees as they collected wild rose pollen, and finding inspiration in these seemingly delicate flowers that grow everywhere here, thriving in this harsh prairie climate which includes droughts and floods.

The experience of painting those roses was made all the sweeter with the knowledge that they would become part of a collective flood relief effort, joined by artists from all over Alberta and a few from Ontario - and even one from Australia!  

one thing becomes another

This week I've finished the commissioned painting which I had been working on for awhile.  Finishing paintings is always accompanied by a feeling of elation - a grand outward rush! - regardless of how long it has taken to make them.  Today I am happy with everything.

A brief recap: The client will be able to choose two of the three paintings I made, in whatever combination they decide.  In this way, they take part in the creative process.  :)

Here are the various combinations, some of which I like better than others:

One Thing Becomes Another

mixed media on 3 stitched canvases

widths: 32", 35" and 38" x 29.5" height

You can read about the making of this work here and (near the end of the post) here.

After photographing them in pairs, I began playing around with various combinations of all three together, with and without spaces between the canvases:

I am oh-so-pleased with this work!

The people who commissioned me to make it have given me a lot of creative leeway and virtually no time constraint.  This is how I work best.  The painting is finished within my own estimated time frame, and I feel it is excellent work, better in some ways than I had imagined.

opening

Looking through my files in search of an image to send to a friend, I came across this one:

Taken around 4am on October 6, 2012, during a bout of insomnia the night before my show opened.  My husband lay sleeping peacefully in the next room, and I was so envious of his ability to sleep!  Ha.

submerge

submerge  v.t.  to place beneath or as if beneath the surface of a liquid  ‖  to become as though covered by water  [fr. L. submergere]

Working in a studio located partially below street level, my mind functioning below the distraction of everyday concerns; my heart beats slowly and light passes through.

Four new pieces close to being finished:

recently discovered music which is to my liking

:)

it comes to resemble the shape of the heart

An idea sketch of some time ago is providing inspiration for a new series of paintings.  The first four paintings I made with this idea were part of my "Tintinnabulation" exhibition.  You can see them here, among the other pieces from that exhibition.  They are the ones titled "Little Things", "Shades", "Aerial", and "Then There is That Gap".

Now I want to make a more involved series based on the idea of more abstract shapes and lines, keeping the colour clean and clear, aiming for visual simplicity, elegance and sophistication.

First attempt:

layout begins on the wall

moves to the floor

and back to the wall before stretching

As usual, the work has changed a bit from initial layout to finished stitching.  I stretched this one yesterday.  While I am excited to begin painting, it is necessary to spend some time considering the colour.  Acrylic colour will keep its glow if applied carefully in sheer layers; too many layers and the colour goes dull and flat.  I'm not talking about surface sheen, I'm talking about the life of the colour.

second layout

My intention is to copy this layout as exactly as possible.  To that end I have traced around the shapes on the wall, and will measure their positions as I stitch them into the canvas.  This will be an interesting process for me, less organic in execution than most of my work has been.

Previous to this new series, I completed the stitching for the commissioned work:

And stretched them:

The clients wanted a diptych.  Husband wanted me to make a piece "just for us", wife wanted to be able to choose.  

My solution: make 3 paintings, any two of which will work together, and any one of which can stand alone.  (In a later post sometime I will show the 6 different potential diptych combinations.)

The logic: what I do as an artist is to disassemble my experience of the world and re-assemble it in my studio.  Here then, my clients can be a part of that process when they, in effect, disassemble this work and re-assemble it into a diptych.

Brilliant, no?

In between working on my new "elegant and sophisticated" series, I will keep this commissioned work in the periphery of the studio.  In this way creative ideas and information are circulated.

Here's a poem that sums up a part of the creative process quite nicely.

spindle and float

And here is piece which I began several months ago.  It has been languishing in the painting rack, waiting for further inspiration.  Often the creative process works like a brewer's yeast, bubbling away at the bottom of the cask, creating a chain reaction that gradually moves to the surface.  (haha, I recently read an article on beer-making.)

Now looking at it, I'm thinking it only needs a few small tweaks.  Soon, soon.... !

enough for everyone

A few weeks ago I agreed to be one of 24 artists who each painted one letter of "Canadian Artists for the Poor".  You can see the beginning and end of my letter-making process here.

And on the CAP website, all the letters together.

This was a fun project which got me out of my usual studio routine to do something different.  It also appealed to my sense of altruism: not only do the funds raised by CAP go towards helping people in impoverished countries, but also, in the auctioning of the letters my "E" may wind up in the possession of someone who could not afford one of my larger, more involved paintings*.

The letters are being auctioned off at CAP's facebook page, and here is my "E".  Bids are ongoing until September 7, 2013, when each letter will find its home with the highest bidder.

*There is a lot of information out there regarding "giving art away", most of it cautioning against donating one's work because it is not a good way to gain exposure, that the donated work is in fact devalued by being sold for often a lower price than it ought, to people who do not understand its value and who will then undervalue other work of a similar nature, thus hurting the whole arts industry.

I think these points are valid, though a bit limited.

Here are some of my thoughts:

In primitive societies everyone eats when there is just enough to go round.  When there is a surplus, people starve.  This is because when there is a surplus people begin to hoard.

The fact that we have surplus allows us to do things like make art, since through hoarding our physical survival is ensured.  We make art and we give it a value, which enables us to continue to ensure our survival, and a cycle is created.  Within this framework, donating our work devalues it, thus undermining the cycle, which must be preserved so that we can continue to make art.

But what if one looks at the world from the point of view that there is enough to go round?

I suppose that idea could eventually lead to the capitalism vs. communism argument, neither one of which works very well when taken to extremes, as past and present examples demonstrate.  

I think perhaps we make assumptions about human nature.  It's a conundrum, isn't it.

How about this:

I do not donate my work for the purpose of gaining exposure, nor would I encourage any artist to do so.  I do donate work, very occasionally, to fundraising events which support my own values.   

When donating to this type of event, I hope that my work will end up in the possession of someone who cherishes it, whether or not they are aware of its monetary worth.  I also hope that the sale of my work will bring in more rather than less dollars, and to that end I try to promote the fundraising events to which I donate work.

I want to live my life through love, not fear.  I want look at this world as a place of plenty, not scarcity.

Perhaps because I've recently been reading about the philosophies of Milton Glaser, among others, I've been examining my own view of the world and thinking I could improve on some points.

sustenance

It's raining really hard outside.  I've left a glass on the deck to collect rainwater, which I will drink later. I did this a few days ago and discovered that rainwater tastes kind of metallic.  Perhaps the metallic taste is due to pollution, or perhaps it's due to the lightning and thunder that has lately accompanied rainfall here.

Meanwhile, rather than working in the studio, which had been my plan for today, I am reading and thinking.  Here is a very interesting article on beauty.

About two months ago I agreed to do another commissioned painting.  Commissions can be quite a challenge for me, because usually the starting idea changes a great deal during my process of making work, and the end result is as much a surprise to me as to anyone else.  In this case I am feeling good about doing a commission because this client is willing to trust my process.

After some initial conversations and a studio meeting, I made a visit to their home to get a sense of the space and how my work might fit into it.  We agreed on a size and a price, and since then things have been simmering in the back of my mind.

I had already begun with some preparatory work, using photo references to paint thinly on pieces of canvas which I intend to stitch into the commissioned piece, though still not knowing how it would all come together - and then, last week while I was prepping paper and canvas for landscapes, an idea came to me as to how I might stage this commission, and I think it's a really good idea!

So here I am, feeling good and excited, relaxed in the process and with a direction for the next step.

And look, the rain has slowed and my glass has fresh water in it.
:)

let it be

Last week in the studio I did a bit of re-organizing and some prep work for making more small landscape paintings.  In addition to using canvas, I want to try gesso-ed paper.  I've done this with portraits - see here - and find I really like the surface of gesso-ed paper, so why not try it with landscapes.

In between studio re-organizing and landscape prep I worked on some urban things.  

Above, a painting that has been underway for some time.  Below, the final finishing touches.  

Here are two that were begun last October:

Unfortunately I was careful with neither choice nor application of colour when I began working on the larger one.  After many layers, it has come to here:

The original open and delicate feeling of the stitched canvas has been oppressed by too-heavy colour.  

Ah well, I can only move forward, trust in my painting skills and know that this work is becoming something other than originally conceived - like so many others!  In fact, it is this refusal of the work to behave itself and progress as planned that keeps me intrigued, ha.

I recently read Stephen King's book "On Writing", which I thoroughly enjoyed, and in which he talks about starting with a character and a situation, and letting them develop.  The fact that his characters can surprise him is essential to his writing.  Well then, the same is true for my paintings.