The biggest lie for artistse

The biggest lie is: "Art is what you do when everything else is done." Talent is not the biggest predictor of whether you will keep doing artwork. Persistence is. I saw many talented students when I was working on my BFA 20 years ago at the University of Texas. I suspect many, if not most, are no longer doing artwork. People much more talented than I was. With no one saying, "Group critique next Tuesday -- have your painting ready," or "You need to have 20 drawings by mid-term," most don't go on.

I can tell any art student right now how to predict if they'll be doing artwork even one year after graduation. "Do you do any artwork over the Christmas break? What about in the summer?" In other words, do you do artwork when no one is telling you to? Sure, you're tired at Christmas break. You're going to be a lot more tired living a real, true adult life. And, if that summer job keeps you from doing art all summer, what happens when you graduate? When you work 40 hours a week -- waiting tables, selling insurance, working in an office -- and no one cares if you do any art -- and you're married and have two kids -- or you're divorced and have two kids: it's hard to keep going. It is. I know.

The first year with the first baby, hardly any artwork happened. Then, it picked up. I used my Mother's Day Out time to do artwork. And, he napped two hours in the afternoon. But, the first year with the second baby and all the way to that one starting kindergarten, hardly any artwork happened. My second was a little bundle of energy. He walked when he was 8 months old. He would run out the door naked whenever possible. He escaped from the church nursery 4 times. He escaped from Mother's Day Out once. He didn't nap. The night before he started kindergarten, I cried. Tears of relief. Within a week, I started painting landscapes. Actually, skyscapes, with only the top of the trees showing. I finally had space.

Artists are not necessarily great human beings

We finally got around to watching the movie The Pianist. How strange to describe a film about the Holocaust as "beautiful". Yet, it truly is. Gorgeously filmed, wonderful cast. We follow a talented Jewish pianist (Adrian Brody, in his Academy Award performance) as he is caught up in the Holocaust in Warsaw, Poland. Deeply moving.

Directed by famous pedophile Roman Polanski.

How do we wrap our minds around this? We assume greatness in one area of life implies greatness in all. Alas, it doesn't. Polanski is a great artist, but not necessarily a great human being. With his recent arrest, Hollywood has flocked to his defense. It wasn't "rape-rape" proclaimed Whoopie Goldberg. Let's see. A 13-year old girl. Barbiturates. She said no. Oh, but it was a long time ago. Oh, but she was set up by her mother. Oh, but it was a different time. Oh, but he lost his wife and unborn child in a brutal murder. Oh, but he is a survivor of the Holocaust. All true. But. There is only one relevant fact: a 13-year old girl. And, I will add, one more relevant fact. Very few pedophiles have only one victim. Usually, they have as many as they can. They just don't get caught.

Bringing up The Holocaust as an excuse. This insults all Survivors. Contrary to popular belief, most trauma survivors do not become perpetrators themselves.

No. Polanski is truly a great artist. He may indeed be a wonderful man to his family, to his friends. Many perpetrators live "double lives". It's called compartmentalization.

Greatness in one area does not guarantee greatness in others. In cultivating our art, let us not neglect to cultivate our soul.

working on portraits

I've been trying to work on portraits in lifedrawing. Doing at least one a session. I think these were all 45 minute poses. Here are Paige, Hannah and Jamie.

They say every portrait is, in some way, a self-portrait. It is difficult not to bring into the drawing pieces of that face we see every day in the mirror.

Once, many moons ago, in Painting class at UT, we had an African-American woman as our model. We had her for several sessions with the same pose. In group critique, we pointed out to a young, white male student that his painting of her was a dead-on self-portrait. "My secret fantasy," he said.

Anthony

Anthony was my favorite male model. He died last year. He was found in the back of a U-Haul truck in the back of a pickup truck in the parking lot of a south Austin Walmart. His body had been there for at least a few days, and the weather had been warm. I was devastated. No one should have to die that way, alone. We didn't hang out, we weren't really friends. But, I had drawn him so many times. I was the studio monitor, so I would call him to set up a session. He would always say, "Right on!" when we had the session booked. He was smart, funny. An artist, performer, writer.

How to explain to someone who isn't an artist, the intimacy we feel with the model? Drawing the body, we come to learn the intimate details of the body. To draw is to caress. It is not necessarily sexual. Our culture in the United States is hyper-sexualized and puritanical all at the same time. Europeans think we're nuts. We are; every culture is nuts in its own particular way, I suppose. Most Americans cannot see the nude in any way except sexual.

I miss Anthony. A man that you could say I hardly knew. Yet, I felt that connection that perhaps only other artists could understand.

SENALKA

Senalka is my favorite model. She embodies dignity, strength, grace. This was charcoal, pastel and conte on chipboard. Yet another demonstration that the best drawings are always done on the cheapest paper.

Had to call 911 at Life Drawing yesterday

Here is a ten minute pose from yesterday's life drawing studio. We never did get to the longer poses. Here is why:

We had just started back after the first break, when one of our older members collapsed and fell on the concrete floor. He was unconscious for only a moment. I believe he fainted first, then fell. I told one of the others to call 911, and I kept him from getting up until EMS could come assess him. He had a bump on his head, but was alert, coherent, knew the date, knew where he was. I called his wife. I asked him what meds he was on. He said none. He's about to be 78 years old! An American man that age, not on medication? Amazing. His mother recently died at the age of 104, so he must have good genes. He told me he had fainted the day before as well. The EMT's came, assessed. Took him to the hospital. His wife met him there. As you would expect, no one wanted to draw after that, and the model was certainly too upset to pose. I paid her the full amount anyway. After getting the studio squared away, I took the rain jacket, umbrella and cap he had left behind to the hospital. He had told me not to bother coming, so I was happy to have the excuse. Again, he was alert, looked fine. His wife was by his side. They still didn't know what was up. I had thought perhaps dehydration. The elderly don't hydrate enough, and, altho we had rain that morning, we had triple digit temps in the days before. I called his wife that evening to check in. The episodes had been caused by an irregular heartbeat. He was scheduled to get a pacemaker today. I'll call tonite to be sure it all went well. It's a pretty routine procedure these days. Bless his heart. He was so embarrassed that he fell. I'm just relieved that it appears everything will be fine. Whew!

I love happy endings!

Let's see if I can reformat my latest blog

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Let's see if I can reformat today's blog. Here are, for your perusal, a World War II poster, and my painting of Leslie as the Good Samaritan.

I am wondering, how do I create art regarding torture? As a Christian, I could do a work about the Crucifixion, which was truly death by slow torture. But the average viewer would not connect it with current events. I could, in the background, have the words: Torture is Wrong. I must ponder this.

My church has regular art exhibits. I doubt such a painting would make it into an exhibit there. Too controversial. That is a shame.

For you Austinites reading this blog, I once did a painting of our colorful local character, Leslie, as the Good Samaritan. It didn't make it into an exhibit at church, and I was truly disappointed. Here is my artist's statement:

We are so used to the term "Good Samaritan" that we don't realize how shocking it was to those hearing Jesus tell this parable. The Samaritans were a despised people group. Jesus tells the story of a man who has been robbed and left for dead by the roadside. A priest passes by, sees him, but fails to help. A Levite (one with responsibilities in the Temple) walks by, sees the man, but walks on. So, the religious leaders fail to show mercy. Jesus' audience would understand that touching a dead body made one ritually unclean. To serve in the temple, they would have to go thru the ceremony making them clean again. What a hassle. So, I think the implication is that they rationalize. "He sure looks dead. He probably is dead. There's no point in checking." The despised Samaritan sees the man, tends to his wounds, puts him on his donkey, takes him to an inn, and pays the innkeeper to look after the man. He continues his journey, but tells the inkeeper he will be back to check on the man's care. I made Leslie the Good Samaritan. He is a homeless cross-dresser, a local colorful character here in Austin. Everyone knows who he is. Some people greet him with kindness, but many turn their heads, as if to say, you are not even worthy of a look from me), and some, often drunken frat boys, get in his face and scream obscenities. I talked with him, and I found him to be a gentle soul, with obvious addiction and mental health issues. His short term memory was obviously impaired. He could keep a conversation going for a while, bu then he seemed to tire out, as if the effort was great. How does God see him? With love. What does Jesus Christ look like? He looks like a homeless crossdresser in Austin, Texas.

How much can you do in 15 minutes?

Here is my favorite model, Senalka.  She has  a great presence:  strength and sweetness, both at the same time.   For this 15-minute pose, I concentrated on the face.  A lot can happen in 15 minutes.  Now, I work on a painting from the sketch.  As always happens, the sketch is so much more satisfying.   I ask myself the question then: why paint?  Why spend hours on a painting when I love the drawing process the most?  Why?  People take a painting so much more seriously than a drawing.  Perhaps I should break free of painting altogether for awhile.  But first, finish the one I've started.  It is for an exhibit, after all.

Here is a photo of Renoir to go with yesterday's blog

Renoir, old, crippled by rheumatoid arthritis, unable even to pick up the paintbrush, so it has to be wedged between his fingers.  He wrote: "The pain passes, but the beauty endures."

Artwork --- yes, it is work

One of my favorite artists, Kathe Kollwitz (1867 - 1945).  Here is one of her lithographs, "Widows and Orphans".  

And, now:

Non-artists think that art just effortlessly flows from your hand, thru the brush, the charcoal, the pencil and onto the canvas, the board, the paper.  They think it must be such a relaxing activity and that you must leave the easel, the drawing board, feeling so calm and renewed.  I do feel that way at the end of a yoga class.  But after a long session of drawing or painting?  My neck hurts, my shoulder hurts, my back hurts. I try to remember to sit up straight, but I get into the "zone" and start slumping.  I try to remember to take stretch breaks.  But I am focusing so intently, I forget.   My pointer finger hurts because I'm so darn aggressive with the charcoal.  In fact, it's been swollen for over a year, and it never gets better because I don't give it a month off, like I should.  After a long session, I look around in a dazed state.  Sometimes I leave feeling totally frustrated, because it just isn't coming together.  Tranquil?  No, sometimes I'm upset and worried.  Will it be done in time for a deadline?  Sometimes, I leave with a feeling of accomplishment.  Maybe it isn't all there yet, but it's coming together.  And, once in a while, I stand back, look at what I did, and I think, "Wow.  That turned out well!"

Censorship on MySpace

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I have a MySpace account (under the nom de plume prettytexasgal).  I post artwork and drawings and thoughts.  It's somewhat different than this blog.  MySpace doesn't allow any nudity, period the end.  Doesn't matter if the pics are made private.  I think Michelangelo's David would get pulled.    They can't have enough staff to look over the millions of pics that  get posted every day.  They must have a fuzzy logic program.  The software guys give the program parameters, it scans all incoming pics, and rejects the ones that fit the parameters.  They apparently made it more sophisticated recently.  It used to be that my life drawings would pass muster if they weren't full frontal or side view obvious.  Well, I posted these two, and they were pulled immediately.  The software jockeys still can't write a program that can differentiate between porn and Art.  Sooner or later, they could make a grand leap in artificial intelligence.  It will be a while.  For now, since they never answer my emails to customer support crying "foul", Meanwhile I shall try to be sneakier.  

The painting that gets the most comments

This is the painting of mine that consistently gets the most positive responses.  Well, not enough to motivate people to actually buy it.  You know how that goes.

I painted this after Hurricane Katrina and titled it: "The Three Graces".  I wanted a feeling of richness, color, and decay, which I associated with New Orleans.  The fur pieces imply both richness and decay.  Nothing is yummier to the touch than real fur.  Yet, it is part of a dead animal.  I remember the first time, as a child, that I saw one of those small mink stoles -- the ones that are the bodies of the minks, sewn together, with the heads and feet and tails still attached.  I was perhaps 10 years old, at church, and I saw a woman wearing one.  I thought, "She has a dog around her neck."  When I got closer to her I realized, "It's a dead animal!"  I though it was completely bizarre.

Hurricane Katrina was sad to me in two ways.  First, the the terrible destruction, dislocation and death.  Second, and more personally, a friend, a dear friend, emailed me her opinion of the residents of New Orleans.  Specifically, the poor, black residents of New Orleans.  I knew this friend had become more and more conservative over the years.  But, I had not yet accepted that she had tipped over into being a reactionary.  Her words were racist and classist.  I felt sick to my stomach when I read them.  I confronted her thru email.  Her reply boiled down to: "you need to figure out why you hate middle-class white people."  Considering I am a middle-class white person, that seemed strange.  I emailed back that, if I were poor and black, that would be the community that I would critique and try to make better.  But, I am white and middle-class, so that is the community I see up and personal.  That is the community I am qualified to critique.  Then I said, let's just let it be.  

Alas, the arrogance of the middle-class.  We have nothing to learn from others, we think.  They have everything to learn from us, we assume.  The middle-class sees the splinter in the eye of the poor and misses the plank of wood in its own. 

Gestures

In life drawing, we normally start with one-minute "gesture poses".  The model chooses more difficult poses that are doable for one minute, but not much longer.  Because we only have a minute to draw, the gesture drawings are free, loose.  I like the word loose.  Think of: breaking loose, cutting loose, letting loose, on the loose, and turning loose.  The best thing about a gesture drawing?  You can't overwork it!

I consider gesture drawings to be calligraphic.  The master calligrapher creates the forms very quickly.  It looks so easy.  But, backing it up?  Years of practice bring mastery.  In the same way, the experienced artist creates a gesture drawing.

I showed my gesture drawings to a gallery owner.  She said they were great for practice, but not something one would frame and hang in a gallery.  I disagree.  I consider them my best work.  

Life drawing

Which of these images is more pornographic?  Let's explore the question. 

 The best way to learn to draw is by drawing the human figure.  I live in Texas.  Texans like to say that Texas is not part of "The South".  So,  I was shocked when a friend rebuked me for life drawing.  She called it a sin. To many people, particularly in the South, the human body is inherently pornographic.  Our culture has so hyper-sexualized the human body, some people cannot see it any other way.  

 I believe we are hardwired to pay close attention to other human beings.  We notice their faces, their body language: is this one friendly, is this one threatening? Therefore, for the artist, the human figure provides a compelling subject.  Truly, the best way to learn how to draw is by drawing the human figure.  The atmosphere in a life drawing session is one of quiet concentration.  The lurid imaginings of non-artists do not exist in the real studio. 

 I am the studio monitor for a life drawing group that meets twice a week.  I book the model.  Drop-in fee is $5.00.  There is no commitment.  An artist could come once or a hundred times.  We have all skill levels.  The person drawing for the first time is as welcome as the artist who has drawn for fifty years.  No instruction, no group critiques.  How freeing it is to simply draw, with others who find it both challenging and fulfilling.  No grades.  No customer to please.  Just the model, the artist, and the sheet of paper.

So, I will ask you, the reader....which of the images above might qualify as pornography?