December 4th -- Construction Cone 2 ('tis almost fairy time)

Today's December Countdown construction cone painting is a little off-kilter.  Maybe just a smidge mischievous.  Between the sense of off-balance and the more twilight colors (oh and maybe a bit hint of golden fairy dust), I was reminded of Mid-Summer's Night Dream (why construction cones would ever bring up Shakespeare, I don't know, but where the mind goes, it goes.)  So I subtitled this one tis almost fairy time.  You can see from whence the quote came beneath the pictures (and the buy now button which I would love if you click before proceeding to the passage :-).

Construction Cone 2 (Tis almost fairy time)
4" x 4"
oil on board

this is a side view -- these paintings are mounted to a 5" x 5" white frame.

 

 

 

SOLD

 

 

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:
Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
 I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn
As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
In nightly revels and new jollity.

Shakespeare, A Midsummer's Night Dream, Act 5, Scene 1

December 3rd -- "Caution"

Day 3 in the December countdown brings us to "Caution."  I loved the caution tape, the close-up perspective of the front cone, and the hint of a cone off in the distance. 

Caution
oil on board
4"x 4"
mounted on white frame -- 5" x 5"

SOLD

December 2nd -- Lunch Break

Here is day 2 of my Daily December Paintings. I loved the way the bright yellow jacket played with the bright orange cones.  The painting is oil on board, 4" x 4."  It measures 5"x 5" mounted to a white frame.  See previous post for side view.




Lunch Break
oil on board mounted to white frame
4" x 4"

SOLD

December Countdown!

Everyday from December 1st to the 22nd,  I will be presenting a new 4" x 4" oil painting on board for sale.  There will be a theme for each week.  The first week is construction cones!  The cost for each painting is only $55; each work is mounted on a 5" x 5" white wooden frame.  I don't make prints of my work, so this is a great opportunity to own an original for very little cost. I will be posting a new piece here daily.  I will ship the painting to you within 1-5 days of purchase via paypal (I have to make sure it is dry before I send it!).  If you would like to pay via cash or check, the work will be shipped or delivered as soon as payment is received.  Please e-mail me at saramzak@gmail.com if you would like to arrange to purchase a painting with a method other than paypal.

As today is December 1st, here is the very first 4"x 4" construction cone painting!

SOLD!

Quick Review of Dan Thompson Video On Artist Network TV

My notes and drawing from watching Dan Thompson's video

I took advantage of a free 4 day trial of Artist Network TV and watched "Figure Drawing 1: Anatomy of the Head with Dan Thompson" last night.  After being initially thrown by all the technical anatomy terms, I found myself learning quite a bit and really thinking about how to approach a drawn (and painted) portrait.  While my notes are fairly haphazard (I was drawing he taught), I record some key points here.

Dan really focuses on anatomical landmarks -- not the ones you'd imagine.  Terms like glabella, sternocleidomastoid, hyoid bone, and infraorbital foramen were quickly identified through the head and neck using a clay model and toothpicks jabbed into areas to show key relationships.  I would not do that portion of the video any justice here (or probably anywhere), but he did recommend some light anatomy reading -- The Human Figure by John H. Vanderpoel, Human Anatomy for Artists: The Elements of Form by Eliot Goldfinger, Atlas of Human Anatomy for the Artist by Stephen Rogers Peck, and one by Robert Beverly Hale -- probably Anatomy Lessons from the Great Masters, but I didn't write down which one. 

Dan starts by taking a measurement on his actual model -- one from the tear duct to the bottom of the chin.  He marks this length on the side of the paper and then doubles it.  *** The tear duct is approximately 1/2 way from the top of the head to the bottom of the chin.****  He then starts to place his portrait on the paper using long gestural straight lines.  He places the head closer to the top of the page so that he can include the neck and shoulders.  He makes the point that this is how you know the movement of the person.  From here on out it is wonderful to see him develop the piece using only long straight lines to indicate how angles relate to each other.  *** For Dan, the EAR is the most pivotal feature in getting a portrait right -- he seems to measure all the angles of the face from the ear.***  He is looking for Action, Proportion, Shape and Overall Design at this point.  He is "sneaking up on the head" as he calls it -- dancing around the entire drawing working out relationships and angles until he finds the ones that work. 

Dan's drawing in the video

After he has this straight line drawing in place, he works in one "false value" to indicate the areas in shadow.  The he goes on to tonal development -- massing in a 5 value drawing.  He first articulates his darkest dark to establish range (usually in the hair or clothes),  then the lightest dark, then middle light, then highlight, and finally the darkest light.  Dan used a 2H and a HB for darkest dark -- he uses a lot of layering and a blending stump.   The darkest dark is the tone anchor.   The false value is too light for the shadow, so next he works in the lightest dark.  At this point, he still is not committed completely to a likeness. 

Tip:  Avoid "shading the shadow:"  we should compress the range of values in the shadow so that we have more values to play with in the lights.

Dan goes on to explain alignment (making sure all features are in alignment/perspective), morphology (the spacing between features)-- the specifics of the individual's face, and finally he breaks down all the features by planes. I love planes. I have Katherine Hannigan (one of my college teachers) to thank for truly understanding planes and thus understanding how to draw the human form -- before that it was all line, and I was never quite accurate. 

I highly recommend this video!  I know I will watch it a few times - -there's a lot here -- perhaps I will even have time to update with more info.

This is Dan's website: http://danthompsonart.com/.




Dan Thompson (1972-) Self Portrait Oil on canvas 32" x 28"

Dan Thompson (1972-)
Self Portrait
Oil on canvas
32" x 28"



Dan Thompson (1972-) The Warrior Oil on canvas 40" x 30"

Dan Thompson (1972-)
The Warrior
Oil on canvas
40" x 30"

A painting kindred spirit: Phil Durgan



Phil Durgan, a very talented Buffalo artist, died so very young a couple of days ago.  I feel somehow guilty in writing about him; I'm not particularly good with death or emotion associated with it.  But as a fellow painter, I will want people to write about my work when I am gone.  Phil's work is definitely worth writing about -- it is full of nuance, observation, rhythm and the lights and darks of life. Phil and I admired each other's paint; I think we saw strengths in each others work that we wished we had.  Phil's work has a natural rhythm; he guides you through a piece to music that he knows intrinsically (he loved Jazz). Phil brought MOAB (the painting above) to an exhibit I coordinated in 2011 at Statler City.  It was the first time we talked and the first time I saw the really big painting seen above.  The prospectus indicated that all the work in the exhibit be related to Buffalo's architecture and/or communities.   This piece resembles a street map of the city; an inviting, familiar, yet possibly dangerous location.  The shimmering pavement flows throughout - letting you move through and around the sharp corners, bump over squiggles and seek out sanctuary in small nooks.  When I see the scissors I think immediately of Diebenkorn, they are open but non-threatening --I get the feeling that Phil's scissors are kid's scissors.  The eye is also the sun is also a light bulb -- this could be a wonderful metaphor for how opening our eyes to our surroundings allows us to view our world through both intelligent realism and optimism.  There is also a dark undercurrent woven into the canvas.   The skeletal figure with the large red dot covering most of his skull is very ominous, and the sun's rays could simply be dangerous spikes.   Phil mentioned in an interview with ELAB that he liked to read artists bios including those of Basquiat, Pollock, De Kooning, Picasso.   One can see the conversation his work has with these artists on canvas as well as to other artists he admired including Jean Dubuffet, Cy Twombly, Joseph Bueys.  His material usage is often identical to Basquiat -- acrylic paint and oil sticks.  Basquiat said that every line had meaning -- this is true of Phil's work.  I certainly don't know the meanings, but you can feel their purpose.  

His artist statement is brief, but true.  He wrote: "I am always amazed by the little things in life and equally impressed by the daring. My paintings seem to always encounter the ideas of: Bebop jazz. Cigarette smoke. Road maps. Women. Beat literature. Mid-century colors. Hymnals. Sumatra. The Gospels. Raconteurs. Drag queens. College radio. Women. Street musicians. Nag Champa. Fireflies…and my children."

More of Phil's words about his work at Buffalo Rising.  Phil's obituary in the Buffalo News.

 

 

Phil's poem on FB that accompanied this painting:

"I hear cars racing down my street
Neighbors yelling 27yr greetings
Cat dogs plows mufflers bottle breaks
I hear love being made
Deals broken
Taxis on flat tires
Children escaping school buses"

 

The association between jazz music and the cacophony of sound that accompany the day to day is striking and it makes complete visual and auditory sense. 
 

The colors and brushwork in this piece are sensual and confident.  It contradicts the the text... "No. 8 Pathetic."

 

This is my favorite Phil Durgan painting.  The broad bands of off-kilter color clash with the pale centered woman.  Her face is worn, seen both as in the process of being created and in being deconstructed.  the paint of her body and dress is so full of life and movement when compared with the flat, unyielding, yet unbalanced bands of color.  Phil had said he wanted to trade work with me... I always thought we'd get around to it eventually... now that Phil has passed away I regret that I never got around to the "trade." But his paintings, along with his friendly smile and energy, will live in my memory always.   Especially this painting -- for me she is a reminder that I need to keep painting and that I need to enjoy my children and husband cause it could all be over too soon -- there isn't always a tomorrow -- a lesson I first learned from my dad who passed away when he was only 28.   I can't get stuck in routine, but need to be fresh and full of life and keep things off-kilter.   I don't want to sad or stress (she looks both); I want to be like the paint that creates her -- joyful, spontaneous and layered.  I don't know what Phil intended with this painting -- but it has taken on a lot of significance for me on how to move forward with my own existence.

 

 

 

 

On Philip Guston

Voyage, 1956 by Philip Guston

I was in Baltimore a few weeks back for just a day, but I stopped into the FREE Baltimore Museum of  Art and was reminded just how influential Philip Guston has been to my thought process as I paint.  A long while ago I read a book, Philip Guston: Collected Writings, Lectures, and Conversations , and I think that it should be required reading for all painters.  Before reading the book, I had enjoyed the above piece at the Albright Knox for it's palette and brush work, but I didn't realize the depth of thought behind Guston's painting process over the course of his career.  Guston's eradication of color or marks or subject matter from his canvases make his work about the journey -- the history of paint is on the canvas.  He thought in-depth about paint, what makes a painting, the purpose of paint and the place of painting in modern art.  He repeatedly went back through the history of painting to inform his work, including Piero de Francesco, Mantegna, Goya, Manet and Cezanne.  Guston's book sent me on many investigations into the same subject matter and helped me solidify paint as a medium I will utilize and defend as relevant.  As a representational artist who believes that great representational art is also abstract art, I find that erasures and letting the picture live it's own life are really important to me.  I think reading the Guston book helped me articulate, both in words and paint, my own process of working from a plan to abandoning the plan to allowing the picture to form itself -- sometimes it even returns to the plan after seeking other ways first.  Guston shares a metaphor of having the plan of climbing Mount Everest and almost reaching the top, then thinking "I forgot some supplies," turning around, but finding new paths down the hill, making new discoveries; the experience of the climb wasn't about reaching the top even though that was the plan -- it is about all the things that happen when we change direction.  I find it intriguing that two of the abstract painters I admire most, Guston and Diebenkorn, both returned to figuration and representation at some point in their careers.  While in Baltimore, I saw "The Oracle" from 1974.  It is part of a series of work that uses the KKK as characters in a story -- Guston states that he was interested in evil, but wanted to think about what evil did when it wasn't planning evil thing -- evil having dinner, looking art, etc.   As an artist whose work has been socially conscious, I find this narrative intriguing.   His distance from activism and his humor are important elements to this work. 

The Oracle (the colors in this photo do not do it justice!)

 

This video is an amazing example of Guston's thoughts on painting as he paints!!! 

 

 

Evidence 1970 (click for video)

 

 

 

 

 

Unlock Art: Where are the Women

Much of what is discussed in the recent Tate video, "Unlock Art: Where are the Women," with Girls' star Jemima Kirke succinctly and humorously explains much of the impetus for my 2012 "Re-Model" installation.  Participants in this installation were asked to essentially white-out Ingres' Grand Odalisque (a copy I created faithfully using his palette and methods -- probably about 60 hours of time) by squeezing latex breasts -- for me this piece looked to reset the canvas in the museum -- to make it more female friendly.  

First, the woman in Ingres' painting does not own her real identity; she is simply a decorative figure, in this case made even less herself through decorative elements meant to convey orientalism.  We hold the image of this woman in our minds, but she is forever of the painting and never herself.  The model helps make the career of the figurative artist, but if their identities are not celebrated, than they are negated.  Hence, one of the reasons I wished to remove her from her confines in my installation.  I cannot give her an identity, but I can remove her from a symbolic state that is not her own. 

Second, the female artist, in her fluidity, communicates through the gaps.  In  the fluid consumption of Ingres, a stoic male figure of the French Academy, the female artist forces viewers to contemplate both the semiotic and symbolic.  Almost as if returning to mother's milk, a purely semiotic state, will clear the way for a new, more balanced playing field for women in the art world. And yes, the audience is asked to squeeze breasts mounted to plaques, something that would seem solely objectifying. And yet the breasts are not there to looked at for pleasure, but rather, much to the surprise of the participant, when they are squeezed they lead to the destruction of the painted symbolic image of objectification.

Third, I have read a lot about the ways in which women have worked to infiltrate the art world, and yet as is the debate within feminism as a whole, I wonder at the lack of recognition of the maternal role as something worthy of serious investigation in art.   Neo-Maternalism: Contemporary Artists’ Approach to Motherhood, an article by Sharon Butler, holds up a few examples of women artist who have successfully integrated motherhood into their work, but takes a moment to disparage new mother artists for making art that is "idiosyncratic, excessively inward-looking “baby art." that is "too sentimental for leading edge galleries."  This article makes a strong case for the changing tides of acceptance of female created art about motherhood, but also begs the question right there -- why is the sentimentality of parenthood invalid for cutting edge galleries?  The denial of the sentimentality, of the softness and attachment, is a denial of a portion of motherhood -- the exact portion that fathers often say they cannot feel until their children are old enough to do something -- to make their way through abjection ("This process of separation whereby the child must reject and move away from the mother in order to enter into the world of language, culture, meaning, and the social." Wikipedia, Julia Kristeva)

Other recommended reading: Feminism and Contemporary Art: The Revolutionary Power of Women's Laughter by Jo Anna Isaak. 

Oh, and lest anyone think otherwise -- I really love Ingres's work and a lot of other male painters too.  As an aside note, this installation was very much about my own desire to paint using Ingres' methods! 

So first here is the video that inspired the blog, and after there are images from my installation and a video I threw together (it deals also with the "other" and colonization, because I don't think you can look at Grand Odalisque and not deal with those issues).


Pictures of Re-Model from Show-Offs: Hallwalls Artists and Models

 

 Lastly here is the my first video ( or my crash course in Adobe After Effects); it a collage of me painting, images from Shakira videos, and a number of appropriated clips from youtube meant to convey motherhood, artmaking, and colonization. 

Video Component of Re-Model: a painting installation by Sara M. Zak from Sara Zak on Vimeo.

 

 

a crowd of small metamorphoses

Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea, oil on canvas, 20" x 20" 

              I recently had an invitational solo exhibition 464 Gallery in Buffalo, NY.   I see this work as a turning point for me.  It reaches into the interior -- not just in subject matter, but in concept and in my technique.  Moving beyond the concrete building facades, I am really looking to find the painting as opposed to recording the objects.  This body of work is all about the shifting nature of time, place, and painting.  It is an exploration of instants and history.    I have engaged the painting process, influenced by Degas, Diebenkorn, Uglow, Saville, and Kanevsky, to conduct a visual examination of Jean Paul Sartre’s reflections on existence in the novel Nausea – the instants annihilated, the inability to hold anything as solid.  Oil allows for erasures, pentimenti, revealing transparencies, and covering impastos.  I paint an entire image, scrape or turp away, and then repeat the process.  There are always remnants in the layers.  A piece comes into being, looks complete, and then is destroyed to make way for another story.  Upon stopping a painting, each new viewing and viewer brings forth a combination of shifting past, present, and future reflections.  This body of work is ongoing.    I hope you enjoy the first installation of work from "A Crowd of Small Metamorphoses"  --- more to come mid-April at Starlight Studios and Gallery in Buffalo, NY.

a crowd of small metamorphoses, oil on canvas, 36" x 36"

It slides by interminably, yellow as mud, oil on canvas, 20" x 20"

into the lure of the mirror, oil on canvas, 20" x 20"

on the surface of solitude, oil on canvas 24" x 36"

the irreversibility of time, oil on canvas, 22" x 48"

Something is beginning, oil on canvas, 90" x 60"

It's been awhile

So I can't even begin to capture the last two years of my artistic ventures in a blog post.  So instead I will share the process shots of one of my new paintings.  It is much like the last two years... a work laid in, and repeatedly tweaked.  Building a career as an artist is a very fluid thing; every decision opens some doors and closes other. I am really excited to be returning to my roots as an oil painter, but also to be venturing into uncharted territory!  This painting is called "a crowd of small" metamorphoses,"  title from Jean Paul Sartre's Nausea.  He writes, "a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place."  This is how I feel every day, especially when I paint.

Working my tail off

So I haven't been here in a while, but you can check out a great deal of my activity on my blog for Painting for Preservation.  I began this artists' movement in March, and it took off.  Check out Broadway-Fillmore Alive video interview about the project.  The last month or so though has been a real return to serious art production... I've finished 5 new pieces in rapid succession and have another 3 to go before the middle of October!  Some will be on view at The Statler Towers in an exhibit I'm organizing with participants of Painting for Preservation, and the others will be on view at The Carnegie Art Center in N. Tonowanda in an exhibit that I'm curating and participating in titled City Strings and Lines.  I'm really excited about both, but City Strings and Lines is really pushing me in some cool ways.  I'm including an image of one of the pieces for that exhibit here (Please excuse the photo quality)

Coming Apart at the Seams

 

 

 

 

 

"Bolt and Screw"

Bolt and Screw (2011) Oil, gold leaf, pumice stone on canvas 24" x 24"

So this painting is a little different in that it is more abstract and more textural.  I used goldleaf to add a sumptuous important quality to this very ordinary overlooked element in bridge architecture.  There is pumice stone mixed into the acrylic base to give it a gritty texture.  This rusted bolt and screw are on a walking bridge that traverses the thruway at Riverside Park in Buffalo.  Riverside is a Fredrick Law Olmsted Park, and it was the "park with a view" looking out over the Niagara River.  You can still go down to the river, but you have to walk over a bridge over the 190 to do so.  This bolt and screw was honestly the most beautiful thing I saw in this location.  I'm looking forward to doing a few more of these that sit on the abstract fence.  I'm finding that all of my work is seeking a history, a true history, a false history, a skewed history, but a history nonetheless.  I'm excited to work on this series as I think it has real potential to juxtapose the intention of the space with it's current condition in a way that relies more on perception... in taking this "park with a view" and confining the viewers' view, I think I can make some pretty decent commentary on city planning, shortsightedness, and the destruction of a piece of art for commercial gain (as a well designed city or park is).

Finished Storefront

I completed Storefront Comtemplation a couple of days ago.  See the previous posts for the progression.

Drained

I'm working on a new series of intimate portraits that explores the female in the role of mother and wife.  The series seeks to communicate the draining aspects of these roles on women.  This is not to say that these roles don't also bring tremendous joy to women, but there is no doubt that it is possible for women to pour all of themselves into these two particular roles, thus losing or subjugating other aspects of their personhood.  The series is intended to be graphic and at times seemingly inappropriate as a juxtaposition of how motherhood and wifehood are normally portrayed. 

The first in the series is "Milked."

Milked
Oil on Canvas
30 x 24
2010
NFS
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