Tour De Force

I agreed to do a lecture for the benefit of Downingtown Library last Thursday. The topic - "Influential books for and by artists - from the 15th to the 21st century". It began with Cennino Cennini and ended with the book I'm presently writing, "The Golden Age of Oil Painting - 1400-1800". The PAINT, PAPER, CLAY, WAX, WOOD show opening is imminent (November 10), so I had no business going off the rails this late in the process. But it got worse.

In the last few days, I began experiencing a new kind of fatigue. Around 3 or 4 PM in the afternoons, I would completely shut off. I'd find myself sitting in a chair or standing in a corner, vacantly staring at nothing, thinking nothing, practically unable to move and not knowing how long I had been there. Re-booting perhaps? It occurred to me later that this kind of mental exhaustion comes from trying to change yourself. Marie Paxson said to me a couple of days ago, "When you're going somewhere you've never been before, you have to do things you've never done before."

Thursday afternoon came, and what I feared most happened: total intellectual collapse and the lecture only three hours away! Getting in bed I thought, "Rest a bit and hopefully figure out something to say." Surprisingly, I fell asleep and awoke with a start. The entire lecture, presented itself complete and I immediately went around purposefully collecting books, paintings, drawings and etchings. I spoke for one hour extemporaneously, entirely without notes, surrounded by books and art. When asked for questions, an enthusiastic woman announced to the audience, "Each one of us has to go out and tell twenty people about this show coming up!" On the way home Leah said, "Adrian, that was a tour-de-force."

What just happened? Did I dream a lecture? Was it inspiration? Fatigue? Strange things can happen when you're trying to change.

Adrian

ENGRAVING IS DONE-15 DAYS TO GO!

My limited edition engraving for our catalogue is done. Having a limited edition piece for the show catalogue was Jeff's idea. I know at the time he brought it up everyone was thinking, "No way!" but he insisted it was a good thing to do and we should do it. So we did and now I can't imagine not doing it. It will be a great addition to the catalogue and the show.

With 15 days to go, I've got to move on to the next project, but first a pause to reflect. As I write these words, I know the other three artist are hard at work. It is difficult to speculate on just how much we have influenced each other, but I know we have. Being in such close and constant contact, reviewing each other's work and being energized by it has kept us all simmering in a bath of adrenaline.

An artist's profession tends to be a solitary one. As much as we love being around people, we all treasure our time alone. When you are alone, holding a cup of coffee, watching the steam curl up, with paint or clay all over your hands - that's when the magic happens. In my case, when I'm actually painting I'm probably in some sort of trance state because I lose all sense of time and myself. The times I'm actually aware of joy, inspiration, consternation, or outright fear is during those in-between moments.

Like right now. And yes I'm feeling all of the above.

Adrian

Not Shoulder, but Actaeon

After two days, the engraving has transformed from Shoulder to Actaeon. The shoulder is an anatomical mechanism. Actaeon was a famed huntsman in Greek mythology who stumbled upon the goddess Diana, naked, bathing in a sacred spring. Actaeon was hunting and the impertinence was totally unintended. Too late, he saw what no mortal should see and in revenge Diana turned him into a stag and his own dogs tore him to pieces.

What does all this have to do with shoulders, or engravings for that matter? First of all, you may be able to see in the photo of the plate after the first day's work a dark spot to the left of the figures elbow. This spot was a deeply corroded area that I could not easily polish out, so I left it thinking, "I'll deal with this later." At the end of the first day, I was musing on how to proceed and the thought occurred to me that that spot was a eye. But and eye of what? An eye of a dog. Why a dog? Because it's Actaeon! After all, he was already looking rather classical.

The next day, I started to work. Going through my dog pictures, I pulled out an Ibeza hound - perfect! The same animal is featured in my paintings, Picnic and Peaceable Kingdom. But first, my Greek hero needed some luxuriant hair. I wanted turbulent lines to contrast with the mostly straight hatching marks that made up the head, plus a dark area was needed on the side of the face to give it more depth and roundness. Tomorrow, I'll pull my first proof - always an exciting moment.

Wait! What about the dog? I lost the dog - too much of a distraction. The blemish got scraped and burnished off the surface and now it's smooth as a baby's butt.

Adrian

collector's edition

The catalogue for the show is looking amazing! Adrian and Jeff have been meeting with Bob from Brilliant Studio and continue to make it better each time. Just to give everyone a "head's up", there will be a small portion of the catalogues that will contain original pieces of artwork from each artist! These will be part of a "collector's limited edition" that will be personalized by each of us. I have just finished making my tiles for the catalogue...however, they still need to be fired, glazed and put back into the kiln. We are all currently working on our original pieces of artwork that will go into a select few of these catalogues. These will be for sale the night of the opening and during the show, don't miss out, they are limited in number and fabulous!
Rhoda

Shoulder

I started my new engraving today. It's called "shoulder", because that's what it is. I'll be working on it the rest of the week and into next week, so you can't see it yet. Hopefully, it'll be done and printed in ten days. The plate is a thick 4" x 6" piece of copper that I bought over 30 years ago. Originally, it was 18"x24" but it's been clipped smaller and smaller over time, and used for very special prints. I found it all crusty in the bottom of a box in the attic (yes, we have a real attic - including bats and cobwebs). It took an hour to polish the surface and bevel the edges so the plate won't cut the thick paper when it's inked and run through the press.

The basic drawing is already scratched in lightly with a drypoint needle, and I'll start the actual engraving tomorrow. The last thing I've got to do tonight is sharpen the burin. The burin is a small tool and there's not much to it, but it hasn't changed for thousands of years. Of course, it's only been used for printmaking in the last five hundred. When the burin is resting in the palm of your hand and you're pushing it forward like an index finger extension, there is a barely audible sound of copper coming up in curls as it's cut away.

Tomorrow, I'll spend five or six hours hunched over a table with my nose a few inches away from both hands as they work the plate. This probably sounds impossibly uncomfortable and, believe me, after six hours it is, but most of the time I'll be oblivious - lost in the reflections of a small gleaming piece of metal. The print must be built up line by line. During all this time you must hold to your vision with intensity, remember every stroke made, and anticipate every stroke to come. Six hours will pass as if they're sixty minutes.

Adrian

Part 3 - Inspired by Rhoda

"Remember that there are parts of what it most concerns you to know which I cannot describe to you; you must come with me and see for yourself. The vision is for him who will see it."

Plotinus said that more than 1,500 years ago. In two sentences, he has described the very core of art. Voice, vision - I have used both words interchangeably in this blog. The point is all artists must do two things...make and share. When I was a young artist (like all young artists), I tended to borrow what I wanted to share from older, greater, more mature artists. How could it be otherwise? I had skill but little experience. As I've aged, that has changed. With mastery, it's all me. Whether quoting in my work a beautifully painted passage from Piero Della Francesca (Florence 15th century) or Clifford Still (America 20th century) I make it mine. This is what Picasso was referring to when he said, in his typically pugnacious way, "Mediocre artist borrow, great artist steal!"

Does this mean that I think every artist's personal voice is ultimately somehow stolen? Is this a paradox, or worse, an irony? You can't steal what's given to you. No matter how ingeniously crafted or elusive a great work of art is, no matter how shy or evasive an artist is, what's ultimately created is meant to be shared.

"The vision is for him who will see it."

Adrian

Humbling Experience

Asking for help is never easy. I usually don't ask when it comes to something for myself, but this show is different. I have the privilege of working with these amazingly talented artists and am constantly in awe of what they can do...you would be surprised at their range. But now, it's not just the talent of these artists, but the support of friends, colleagues and art supporters. The old saying, "It takes a village.." is so true. When I am in my studio creating, my mind often wanders to past show openings, recalling all the friendly faces coming out to support me...wow...that's powerful. What a motivator! As Artists, where would we be if we didn't have people coming to view our masterpieces? The support from this show has been humbling, and we thank you. We need you and look forward to seeing you on opening night 11/10.

Rhoda

Printmakers Part 2

After the preceeding blog, you might be saying, "Considering all the great artists you just mentioned what's the point of even trying to make art today? There is nothing left to say." Andy Warhol was the first "famous" artists to address this essential problem of modern art directly, but artists have been chewing on this indigestible piece of gristle beginning with Dada to Marcel Duchamp to Damien Hurst. For myself, I have come to my own conclusions.

Conclusion No. 1: Old geezer that I am, I'm still passionate about the past masters. I'll never be able to stop painting, printmaking, drawing or sculpting using traditional techniques.

Conclusion No.2: Harold Bloom the poetry critic and scourge of intellectual mediocrity once said something like, "Contemporary poets and writers have complained that there is nothing left to say, and this is how they justify their literary abortions and grotesqueries. But! provided one finds his own voice, there is everything left to say."

I'm guessing, you're now thinking "So what's this 'your own voice' stuff?" If you are, I commend you, but you'll have to wait for Blog Part Three.

Printmakers Part 1

In preparation for my next engraving, I've been intensely studying my favorite printmakers - Rembrandt, Meryon, Whistler, and Hopper. You might say, "But these aren't engravers, they are etchers." And you would be right. For those unfamiliar with the process, engraving is cut directly into the metal plate with a sharp burin. The etcher, on the other hand, lightly scratches through an acid resistant film, then puts it in a liquid bath and lets the chemicals do all the work.

I only mention it because the first takes strength and great control. The second can whip along with the freedom of a sketch. Of course, neither of these techniques guarantee great art or even good art. I've worked a lot in etching and engraving and, believe me, they're both extremely demanding - taking years to handle skillfully. Still, relatively speaking, technique is the easy part; the difficult part is seeing everything in terms of black and white lines. This takes artistic vision and an extraordinary memory.

For a number of reasons, I do mostly engravings. A great artist and the greatest engraver of all was Durer. But his technique is over the top and rather scary. As far as etchings are concerned, compare technically superb but artistically limited portrait etchings by an artist like Anders Zorn with some Rembrandts. If you do this, you may get an inkling as to why Rembrandt is such a great painter, draftsman and etcher.

Adrian

Rhoda and Mike Came to Dinner

Rhoda and Mike came over for dinner last night. We went over Jeff's beautifully designed catalogue again (as per his instructions) to see if there were any changes to make. Every time this catalogue goes through Jeff's hands he makes it more beautiful, more perfect. I don't know what his limits are but we have not found them yet.

Rhoda and I made a pact yesterday promising we would not talk about art all night. We didn't really stick to it, but the four of did have a great time talking about other stuff and our lives in general. Rhoda and Mike are such a great couple, as well as being wonderful individuals.

But! before I appear too disingenuous, I must admit I did have a minor agenda: Paint and Clay. A week ago Rhoda returned a plate she had bisque fired for me. It's a non-functional plate with a snake and frog and I still have a lot of work to do before it is finished. The piece is inspired by the great ceramicist Bernard Palissy (1510-1590) and his 19th century French followers like Joseph Landais and Charles-Jean Avisseau. I can't control ceramic glazes well enough yet so I painted it with oils. When Rhoda came over I showed her my plate and the Palissy website, and asked, "Will I be able to do this?" She said, "Yes!"

Adrian

Today I Finished a Painting

I put the finishing touches on a self portrait today. The last time I could stand looking at myself that long was 30 years ago. I was 30 years old then (you do the math). For my age I don't look too bad, kind of gnarly though. In the background of this current painting is the very same portrait I did so many years ago. It will also be in our current show. It's a very good painting and I find myself wondering, "Of course it's very different, but is it any better?"

Technically, there is a world of difference. The earlier work is done "Alla Prima" - all at once. The paint is laid down with total self-assurance. The current painting is done with glazes, scumbles and layers upon layers of the thinnest color, this painting will never be cleaned, it's too fragile.

I think as I get older I can afford to fret more, doubt more, improvise more than I could have tolerated as a young artist, or as a young man for that matter. A little older, a little more confused. There is one thing I'm very clear about; my passionate feelings for art have never changed. Our show; PAINT, PAPER, CLAY, WAX, WOOD is, for me, tying up loose ends, settling accounts, reckoning the score while I prepare for my next thirty years in art.

Adrian

I Love Everything About Printmaking!

I love everything about printmaking, the gooey black ink, the polished copper plate, the hand tools unchanged for centuries, the quiet hand-powered press as it smoothly shifts the steel bed back and forth, but most of all I love the paper. The paper I use comes from ancient French, Italian and English paper mills, some in operation since the 13th century. I've held in my hands a young scholars vellum-covered edition of Virgil printed in the 16th century. The paper is the same as I use today. Most modern high end prints and books today unfortunately use crappy paper and consequently they have no have no soul.

It's good to look at a fine print closely, but it's even better holding it in your hand while you're doing it. Feel the pulse as well as drink in the image. My stuff is old timey, basically the same technique as Rembrandt. Jeff Schaller uses multiple cutting edge techniques in his prints but he uses exquisite paper as well. Jamie prints his lustrous black and white photographs on the best paper. And Rhoda? Offhand I'm not familiar with anything she's done on paper, but knowing her I'm sure she has. Probably some thick, felted, delicately stained thing that, of course, she made herself.

Adrian

tile and more tiles...

Oh, thank you for those nice compliments Adrian. You are so kind.

So, my new studio that seemed so large when I moved in, is getting awfully crowded. Every flat surface has a board with a tile on it, a sculpture, or part of one, or a wad of clay that seems to have some potential that I need to harvest. The tension is rising as the contdown continues. I find myself thinking about art even in my sleep (or lack there of) these days.

I just finished my "Splash" series of tiles that were inspired by a photograph of a drop of water hitting the surface of a pond...thus, a microscopic "SPLASH"! I took that idea and made its' motion -concrete. Given an artistic liscence, I made it a little more exciting, by adding high temp wire, broken glass and oxides, all on top of a porcelain surface...so cool.

Today I am folding up a large clay bowl that I finished last night at about 2am. I am making it into a giant shelter or birdhouse. Now, this isn't going to look like just any birdhouse, this is going to be a "contemporary" home for the aesthetically appreciative bird. It's filled with texture and surface decoration....so yummy for the eye. I want it to mount on a tree and look like a giant pod or nest or even "growth" coming out of the tree.

After that, I will continue on my Alphabet City Tiles...I am making some of the biggest yet...oh, where will I put them all? I need to buy more shelving!
Rhoda

Rhoda's Studio

I went to Rhoda's studio the other day. I have always been a huge fan of her art, but she is pushing the envelope and doing astounding work. Some pieces are very small, you could hold them in one hand - some have truly heroic proportions. One piece is already easily over one hundred pounds. Looking into the unfinished top you can see the elaborate clay structural supports.

On a drying shelf nearby is a platter, supported by a garland of organic shell-like forms. The smooth inside of the platter puts me in mind of a giant mussel shell held aloft with an exuberant encrustation of barnacles. I told her I've dreamed of making such a thing. I think she has that effect on artists.

Adrian

West Chester, PA hosts the arts!

Sometimes things aren't flowing and I wonder why I'm an artist...but not last night. At the opening of my flower pieces from Brandywine Cottage (Sunset Hill Gallery in West Chester) the response to my work was overwhelming. People were literally standing in line to shake my hand, hug me and kiss me. Friends, patrons and strangers who might soon be friends all turned out for a beautiful night of art and I am so grateful to everyone who was there. An artist's work isn't complete until it has been seen.

Jeff's show was just down the street at the Serpentine Gallery, Rhoda and Jamie were showing in the lobby of the Franklin Mint and there were many more artists spread throughout the town. Art happened. And you can bet I brought up Paint, Paper, Clay, Wax, Wood. Sandy Riper, the owner of Sunset Hill Gallery who is an amazing and supportive patron of the arts, generously put out invitations to our upcoming show and there is a definite buzz in the air.