Thinking About My Art

It has been a little while since I posted new work.  Things have been a bit slower in the studio lately and I delayed some photography until I purchased better studio lighting.  With all that taken care of, I can share the three newest pieces from the studio.  Each is quite different, so I’ll try to explain what’s behind them.

First up is a painting that falls in line with what I made in Vermont and when I first returned to my studio:

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on Walnut plywood
24″ x 24″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on Walnut plywood
24″ x 24″ x 1″
2010

There are two new developments in this piece.  One, I’ve used two “body” colors instead of the usual one.  Two, the pinstriping does not surround a solid block of color, but instead follows the path of the wood lines.  I think this is a successful departure in that it’s a different way to move the viewer’s eye through the piece and it activates the space in the picture in a more cohesive way.

Here is the second piece I wanted to share:

Through and Through
Polyacrylic on Luan Plywood
23.5″ x 23.5″ x 1″
2010

Through and Through (digital composite view)
Polyacrylic on Luan Plywood
23.5″ x 23.5″ x 1″
2010

This second piece is not a huge departure for me as it follows in the path established by a piece created two years ago for a show called “Aquifer.”  In that piece, I used clear coat to create the appearance of saturated wood.  It was clear coat on raw wood.  Here, I’ve used a glossy top coat on top of matte clear coat.  The result is that from the front, the piece looks like a regular piece of plywood with no alterations.  However, as you walk across the piece, light will catch the glossy top coat in such a way to reveal the saturation.  It’s a very subtle piece and I imagine that most viewers will miss it completely.  I’m ok with that and will instead embrace the experience of those viewers who do see it.  I look forward to seeing viewers’ reactions first hand as this piece will be in an upcoming show that opens on May 14 (details to come).

Here is the third piece:

Not Yet Titled #2
Polyacrylic on Red Oak Wood
21″ x 21″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #2
Polyacrylic on Red Oak Wood
21″ x 21″ x 1″
2010

Of these three new pieces, I am most excited about this one.  For almost 4 years now, I’ve had the idea of creating my own version of the wooden pallet, much like what you might see at Home Depot.  These crude devices are instrumental in commerce, but I imagine their form is often overlooked.  I am drawn to both their utility and their appearance.  In the piece above, I have created a more refined and impractical version of the pallet.  1/4″ Red Oak slats are laid on top of a Red Oak support frame.  It is only held together with glue, whereas the standard industrial pallet is held together with rusted nail or maybe screws.  I wanted to connect my non-utilitarian pallet to nature, though, so I have used polyacrylic to paint a rough circle on the piece.  The idea here is that perhaps the pallet is actually useful and at one point held a barrel of some sort on it.  Perhaps the barrel overflowed with rain water or maybe condensation that formed on the side ran down to the pallet.  With the barrel removed what remains is a pallet with a saturated circle impressed upon it.  The circle has a perfect edge on the inside and a wavy/rough edge on the outside, perhaps caused by different amounts of saturation.  From a distance the piece reveals itself as a very refined object with a perfect circle on it.  Up close, however, hints of practicality and real experience are revealed.

This piece will lead to many more and, in fact, I have a much larger one almost done in the studio now.  It measures approximately 37″ x 47″ and is made of Poplar.  It will take on some of the characteristics of Through and Through above.

Good things are happening in and out of the studio.  In my next post I will share details about my four upcoming group shows.

Although certainly not true for all artists, many have a strong desire to show their work in Chelsea, the Manhattan neighborhood where hundreds of contemporary art galleries are located.  It is debatable, but for many the art capital of the world still resides in New York.  Being shown in a Chelsea gallery is a sort of validation – for better or worse – that your work matters.  For those who live outside of NYC, this validation can be a game changer.  Your local galleries may view you and your work differently.  Your peers may give you greater respect.  It can be like taking a giant step forward with your practice.  Personally, I’ve longed to show in NYC for several years.  While I have much respect for the art scene in Washington, D.C., there just isn’t much room to maneuver.  There are a few galleries in D.C. that might be a good fit for my work.  In NYC, there are dozens.

The toughest challenge for artists is how to make a connection with a Chelsea gallery.  You will hear any number of strategies.  Over the past few years, I’ve tried several of them and they’ve treated me fairly well.  As a result, I have relationships with several gallery owners and directors.  But as of yet, no show opportunities.

Last fall, I began hearing about a new gallery in Chelsea that was making a bit of a splash.  I learned that the gallery would be giving a two-person show to a friend of mine and a solo to another friend, both of whom make work in a similar genre as I do.  I took a look at the exhibition schedule and found that every show indicated a likelihood that the gallery owners may be receptive to my work.  I discovered on their website that they had a submission policy and I gathered up some of my strongest images and sent them off.  I’ve done this several times before and usually received no response.

This time was different.  The gallery director wrote back and expressed interest in my work.  Based on what she said, it was clear she spent a lot of time looking at my website.  She stated that she would love to meet me in person and see my work.  She even hinted at a possible exhibition opportunity in early 2010.  I was ecstatic and followed up immediately.  We continued a sporadic dialog for a month or two.

When I began creating my new Clear Coat pieces, I sent an update to the gallery sharing the new work.  The response, this time, was colder.  Again, the images of the new work seemed to actually turn someone off (this happened with two galleries around the same time).  Like I’ve said before, there’s a huge difference between the jpeg and the actual work.

I left for the Vermont Studio Center in early January still without a firm meeting scheduled.  Bolstered by the great feedback received at the residency, I emailed the gallery again letting them know what I was up to.  This time, the dialog warmed back up.  I was asked to let them know when I’d be back from Vermont.  Obediently, in early February I emailed them again letting them know I was back home and sharing news from the residency.  The next email back requested my availability for an in-person meeting for early April.  They wanted to see work from my Holes series.  After some back and forth, the meeting was scheduled for April 8.

I found myself very nervous and unsure about what works to bring with me.  Ultimately I decided on an assortment of pieces ranging from 6″ x 6″ to 36″ x 36″.  I brought seven pieces from the Holes series and since I had a captive audience, I brought two new Clear Coat pieces and two new Paintings.  I started out on the five-hour drive early that Thursday morning and pulled into Chelsea with some time to spare.  The meeting was scheduled for 4pm.

At 4pm I pulled up in front of the gallery building and turned on the flashers.  I went upstairs to the gallery and introduced myself.  I was instructed to bring the work to the freight elevator.  In the gallery (a small space), they set up a couple of chairs and a table.  While I left to find a parking space, they asked if they could begin unwrapping the work.  Sure!  Ultimately I had to park in a garage and I hiked it back to the gallery where I found most of the work unwrapped and the director and owner looking it over.  No time for small talk!

The next 90 minutes flew by.  They carefully looked at each piece I brought.  They asked questions.  I tried my best to answer them.  It was actually a lot of fun.  The owner had to leave early and the director and I continued the conversation.  She clearly had a strong opinion about what work she liked better than others.  As I unwrapped more work, I handed the director a binder that had images of other works I’d made.  This was a huge hit and I can’t recommend enough how helpful this binder is.  I’ve made sales from the binder and now a gallery director was oohing and ahhing over some of the images.  Now that she had real work in front of her, she was better able to visualize the work in the images.  Work that was sold had a red dot next to the title to indicate it was sold.  I have to imagine that seeing so many red dots was a good thing for the director.  She began picking out favorite works and even snapping quick pictures of my images.

As our meeting wrapped up and I began packaging my work, she began talking about my exhibition schedule this year (pretty busy… details to come) and about how the gallery likes to schedule their shows.  She said she would discuss my work with the owner and that we should keep in touch.  The conclusion of the meeting seemed to go well and I left excited.

Once back home I emailed the owner and director and thanked them for their time.  They said they enjoyed the meeting and would be in touch.  I took this to mean that they would be thinking about our schedules and show possibilities.  However, until something is scheduled and a contract signed, I will keep my expectations in check.  Of course, though, I hope to show with this gallery.  I hope to be able to have a concentrated showing of my work in NYC for friends, collectors, curators, and critics to see.  I hope this can be an introduction to the NYC market.

Regardless of the outcome, the meeting was thrilling and great preparation for future ones.  I take it as a great compliment that a gallery would want to meet with me.  At a minimum, it means they like and respect the work.

I will keep you updated on how things progress.  With any luck, I’ll announce an upcoming show for Chelsea.

It has been almost two months since my residency at VSC and already some of my memories are fading.  However, I wanted to sum up this series of posts with probably the biggest idea to come from it (not related directly to art production).

The Big Idea

“The Big Idea” certainly sounds dramatic, moreso than it really should.  But you’ve continued reading and that’s the important thing.  It quickly became very clear to me that one of the benefits of VSC is the diversity of artists in attendance.  Some are young, others are old.  Some are inexperienced (still in college), some have quite the resume.  After attending a couple of slide talks by fellow artists-in-residence, and based on conversations I had in the studio or at meal time, I discovered that many of the artists had no idea where they fit in the hierarchy of resident artists.  Further, I realized just how important it is to be aware of your place within the hierarchy.  Let’s talk about each of these separately.

Many people don’t like to think this way, but whether we like it or not, some artists are better than others.  This becomes evident either in the work itself, the studio practice, the slide talk, or in a number of other ways.  All of those factors combined give a sense of the quality of the artist.  Based on my interactions with my fellow residents, I came to realize that many of the artists had no idea where they truly fit into the hierarchy (I don’t know this for a fact, just an impression I got).  In some cases, artists thought they were much better than they actually were.  In other cases, artists thought they were much worse than they actually were.  Some, however, knew exactly where they fit in and there was something special about these people regardless if their position was high or low within the hierarchy.

I think the reason why artists don’t understand their place in the hierarchy is because they lack critical self-examination.  Perhaps an overrated artist has been boosted by the feedback of their friends.  Perhaps an underrated artist lacks the confidence in themselves or their work to feel proud of their accomplishments.  I think the artist who overrates themself suffers from the worse of the two afflictions, but an under-confident artist would benefit from a more accurate self-assessment too.

I believe a hierarchy of artists is inevitable and beneficial.  It’s present in all life pursuits (sports, business, etc).  Art, though, has to be one of the most challenging pursuits in which to understand the hierarchical structure.  But by understanding your place in the hierarchy – your relative position to your peers – you can better understand the areas in which you can improve and you have a model for doing so.  If you incorrectly place yourself in the top 10% of your peer group, you might miss the opportunities for improvement that you really need.  If you incorrectly place yourself in the bottom 10%, you might miss what truly sets yourself apart from your peers so that you can push those things even harder.

Additionally, by understanding your place within the hierarchy, it suggests to me that the artist has a good grasp of what is happening around them.  They know what other artists are doing.  They know the current trends.  They are simply more informed.  This isn’t a necessity for all artists to be good, of course, but for those who choose to attend a residency with a large group of their peers, it seems to me to be critical.

Even if you find yourself in the bottom of the hierarchy, your position is not fixed there.  With the tools and motivation to rise through the ranks, you can make it happen.  And you will recognize your ascension as you do so.

Once this “big idea” came to me, I began looking at the artists around me at VSC and reflecting on my own work.  Over the period of four weeks, I ranked myself against my peers and adjusted accordingly with each new bit of information.  By the last week I began to look closely at the artists I had positioned above myself.  What made them better than me?  Did they work harder than me?  Were they more focused than me?  Were they more experienced than me?  Did they have a more creative vision?  Were they just born with a huge amount of talent?  With such an assessment, what then can I do in my own practice to elevate myself to the level of  #1 Bob Q. Artist?  Am I willing to do what it takes to improve my work so that my position in the hierarchy is better?

Bringing this idea back to D.C., I’ve begun to evaluate my position in this larger pool of peer artists.  Where do I fit in?  Am I being recognized accordingly?  If not, why not?  If so, am I satisfied with it?  Furthermore, do I want to consider just D.C. as my pool of peer artists, or the entire world as well?

My ultimate takeaway from this idea is that I have lots of room to improve.  While I am somewhat pleased with my current position, I am not satisfied with it.  I want to rise through the ranks of the hierarchy.

I’ve got work to do.

One of the reasons I was so excited to have a residency at the Vermont Studio Center was to interact with up to four successful professional artists.  Having no formal art training and having never participated in a critique, the chance to hear constructive feedback was invaluable.

The Visiting Artists

During each month, VSC invites four artists to be visiting artists: two painters (p) and two sculptors (s).  In January, those artists were:

Susan Jane Walp (p) - biography / art
Brenda Garand (s) - biography / art
Peter Schumann (s) - biography / art
Jill Moser (p) - biography / art

The Studio Visits

At VSC, you are gauranteed a visit with the artist who works in your genre, should you elect to schedule the meeting.  For those visiting artists outside of your genre, you must snag one of the limited available slots if you want to meet with them.  Given my lack of previous critiques and that my work very much crossed over between painting and sculpture, I opted to meet with all four artists.

As you might expect, my experience with each artist varied significantly.  Without revealing too many details, I’ll quickly summarize my experience with each.

Susan Jane Walp – Susan’s own work came across to me as very accomplished yet traditional still-life painting.  When she visited my studio, I had completed several clear coat on wood panels and only a few new paintings.  When she entered my space (at the end of her 5-day stay), she scanned the room quickly and stopped when her eyes found the paint.  The paintings were the work that she could grasp and we talked for a few minutes about so-called rules of painting and how they are often made to be broken.  She told me which paintings were her favorite.  Other than that, I didn’t get much for the visit.  However, it was a good warm up for what was to come.

Brenda Garand – Brenda gave by far the best slide talk of all the visiting artists and because of that, I was excited to meet with her.  When she entered my studio she was full of energy, thoughts, and questions.  She gravitated towards the wood panel pieces and told me that she felt they were very successful.  She pushed me to create more of them.  She saw the paintings in the earliest stages but felt that something was there to keep exploring.  Her visit was dynamic, positive and inspiring.

Peter Schumann – Boy, where do we start?  Peter is the creator of the Bread and Puppet Theater group and for several resident artists, this was significant.  I had never heard of it before.  Peter’s slide talk was actually a one-man performance.  In an effort to be nice, I’ll just say that it wasn’t my cup of tea and afterwards I kind of dreaded my coming studio visit.  When he arrived in my studio, it was clear he was disappointed.  Although he seemed to be full of art historical information, his one big suggestion to me was to “make it messier.”  If you read this site you know that messy is the exact opposite of what my work is about.  I thanked him for his visit and he left after half the allotted time.  I heard he suggested to numerous other artists that they include dead bodies in their work.  As of that time, no one was certain if he was serious or joking.

Jill Moser – Somehow, prior to my arrival in Vermont I had not seen the list of visiting artists.  Imagine my surprise when I learned that Jill Moser would be visiting.  I was thrilled!  I was not familiar with the work of the other three artists but I knew Jill’s work very well and I greatly admired it.  Being a painter, Jill visited with the sculptors on her last day.  When she entered my studio I got the greatest compliment I could hope for.  She immediately engaged with my work and although she got the wood panels, she was most drawn to the paintings.  At this point, I had completed all of the paintings I made in VT so she got to see the full progression.  She thought the paintings held great promise.  She was enthusiastic and demanding, making me move paintings around the studio so that we could appreciate various relationships between the works.  She stayed almost an hour, about twice as long as the scheduled time.  Her visit, only a couple of days before the very end of the session, represented a wonderful conclusion to my residency.  I felt that my hard work had been successful.

Without a doubt I plan to do more residencies in the future.  The reason for that is not only do you have focused studio time and a creative environment, but at many residencies you have the opportunity to meet with artists who are willing to share their experiences and constructive feedback.  Meeting with Brenda Garand and Jill Moser are two experiences I will never forget and always cherish.

I wanted to take a quick break in the VSC experience posts to talk about something that has been on my mind lately.  I’m not sure what I expect to come from this topic, but I feel the need to write about it.  I think I was finally prompted write this when I read the following on Lenny’s blog today:

As an art student and years afterwards I was always very attracted to the geometrical minimalism of Piet Mondrian. Then, a handful of years ago, I recall the massive Mondrian exhibition at the National Gallery, and what happened when I walked into gallery after gallery full of works so similar that they were almost indistinguishable from each other.

Mondrian had found a formula and stuck to it. He never went on “trying other things.”

While I am sure that artists all over the world find their own formula and stick to it, I feel like I see it quite a bit in D.C.  I don’t fault any artist for doing so as it typically only happens when the work is selling well.  And who knows, maybe if one of my bodies of work sold like crazy, I’d just churn out product over and over again.  Since that isn’t my current reality, I feel it’s important to try new things whenever inspiration strikes.  I feel comfortable moving on because I feel that I own the past work and can revisit it at any time.  Over the past 10 years, I’ve worked in following ways:

• Derivative paintings of established art stars %
• Spray paintings on MDF %
• Hand-drilled holes in wood #
• Ink drawings on scrapbook paper #
• Traditional landscape photography %
• Altered digital photographs #
• White paint on wood constructions #
• Clearcoat on wood paintings #
• Paint on plywood paintings #

% Work that informed my practice, but I will not revisit
# Work that I feel is significant, that I own and can revisit at any time

All of the work above has helped me get to where I am today.  I feel that except for the first bullet, all of this work is related.  However, I do think they are all quite different.

What I mean by own is that I feel this work is in my distinct voice.  I don’t think the work would be confused for someone else’s (I say this based on years of looking, but maybe I just haven’t found similar artists who are out there somewhere).  Once I feel that I have established ownership, I feel that I can move forward and pursue new ideas.  I keep in mind that should the need arise (or the desire) to revisit past work, I can do so and leverage all that I’ve learned since last working in that way.

I’ve been thinking about this specifically because a wonderful opportunity has recently presented itself.  I have been asked to bring my work to New York City for a meeting with a Chelsea gallery.  They are most interested in my Holes in Wood body of work.  As first I was concerned about this since I haven’t worked in that way (except for last year’s Artomatic) since late 2006.  Given the potential opportunity before me, I realized that it’s not at all an issue to revisit the work.  I’ve always thought it was significant work.  And I feel OK coming back to it now.  In fact, it’s exciting to begin working this way again and leveraging all that I’ve learned in the past 3 years.

Personally, I feel it’s better for me to pursue as many different bodies of work as possible and to own as many of them as possible.  Later this year I will be participating in a variety of shows (more on this and the Chelsea gallery development later) and will be showing work from three different bullet points above.  Had I simply followed the Holes in Wood line of art making non-stop, only one of these opportunities would exist today.

For those of you who don’t sell everything you make, what do you think about this?  Do you pursue a variety of bodies of work?  Or do you follow the same line year after year?  What’s your thought process for your specific approach?

I apologize for the delay in publishing the second part of my Vermont Studio Center experience.  A week ago today my wife and I had to put down our wonderful cat, Maisy.  She had suffered a stroke the week before and was unable to recover.  We miss her terribly.

OK, back to the residency experience…

The Studio

Once registration was complete, I was taken to my studio in the Schultz Sculpture Studio building.  My studio was located on the first floor just steps away from the shop area.  If I am being honest, I was a bit disappointed in the size and finish of my studio.  I found it to be a little on the small side and a bit dirty.  However, I think I felt this way because of how spoiled I am with my at-home studio space.  Based on the feedback from other residents, these studios are pretty nice to compared to what they’ve used in the past.  I later discovered that the studio spaces on the second floor of Schultz are quite a bit larger than the one I had.  I guess I was unlucky in being assigned the smaller space, though it was nice to be close to the equipment.

Once familiar with the facilities, I began unloading my car.  I had packed everything I could possibly think of because I wasn’t sure how accessible supplies would be.  My aching back hardly made itself known during the excitement of prepping my studio space.  I carried some 50+ plywood panels through the snow into the studio.  I carried my paints, clear coat, framing clamps, etc.  I was just excited to get started.

I set about organizing the studio.  Once everything was in order (or ordered enough), I got straight to work.  I worked up until dinner time and afterward I returned to my studio.  I probably worked until 1am the first night.  That’s quite late for me.

The rest of the first week followed a similar trajectory.  I got to the studio at about 9am and finished up between midnight and 1am.  My only breaks were for meals, work study and other programs.  Although I wasn’t overly impressed with the facilities at first, they were certainly conducive to working, and work hard I did.

The Room

At some point on the first day, I was taken to the house where I would be staying, Bradley House.  I was shown to my room on the second floor.  I guess I can say it was adequate.  It was not luxurious accommodations but you wouldn’t want that anyway… you want to be in the studio.  Well, I guess there are times when more luxury would have been welcome, but we’ll get to that later.

My room was a bit of the small size.  It had a closet, twin bed, vintage dresser and a chair.  The colors used to paint the room were not chosen by a colorist.  I thought that they were “oops” colors from the local hardware store, but later discovered they were not and that a movement was underway to change the colors.  While I might prefer the serenity of beige, I certainly don’t begrudge VSC for the paint in the houses.  After all, the purpose of the residency is to make art, and it is successful in facilitating that.

Although each resident gets their own room, they do have to share a bathroom.  For me, I shared the bathroom with three other guys.  The bathroom was adequate although the lack of a shower head caused water pressure to be intense.  Think acupuncture.

I should note that during my first week at VSC, I never saw a single housemate.  Occasionally I heard a door open or shut, but I never actually saw someone.  This illustrates just how varied people’s schedules were.

The Back

I’ve already talked a great deal about the art I made while in residency.  A consequence to the productivity in the studio was that my back injury got worse and worse each day.  Standing on my feet for 12+ hours a day turned out to be a bad thing for allowing my back to heal.  As the first week progressed, it became more and more difficult to bend, lift, stand up and sleep.  To give a sense of the pain, when I would have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, it would take up to 15 minutes to get out of bed.  Every strategy I used for getting up would cause severe pain.  Eventually, I would just push through the pain.  It was that or wet the bed.

By Thursday my productivity and happiness began to decline.  I decided that I couldn’t work like that for the entire month.  I found a chiropractor in a nearby town and saw him on Friday.  By this point my back was severely curved and I limped noticeably.  The chiropractor tried several treatments and finally said the words I dreaded most: BED REST.  In order for the injury to stop progressing, the chiropractor said I really needed two days of bed rest.  How miserable!  I knew, though, that sacrificing two days to bed rest would likely make the remaining three weeks much more productive.  I drove back to my house, went to my room, and laid down.  Other than meals, I stayed in bed for two days.  It was awful.  No TV.  No internet connection other than through my phone.  I tried watching DVDs on my laptop, napping, etc, to pass the time.  By Saturday night I called my wife and told her I wasn’t feeling any better.  I told her that if I didn’t feel better when I woke up on Sunday that I wanted her to come get me.  I refused to stay in Vermont for three more weeks in such agonizing pain.

Sunday morning finally came and when I opened my eyes I had a strange sensation.  The pain had significantly declined.  I was actually on the mend.  Although I had to be very careful doing my everyday activities, I could go back to work.  Five to ten minutes working followed by five to ten minutes sitting.  Still, I was back to work!

With the worst of the pain behind me, I was determined to make the most of my remaining time in Vermont.

[to be continued]

I’ve written a great deal about the work I made while at VSC.  Without a doubt, the month of January was the most artistically productive time of my life.  Remember, I was able to complete 43 works in 24 days, and this only counts the work I felt was worthy of hanging on the studio wall.  It still amazes me that I was able to finish so much.

But what was my time at VSC like?  Well, let me ramble my way through describing it for you.  It all starts well before I departed on January 2…

Pre-VSC

Once I received my acceptance letter from VSC, I knew I only had a few months to prepare.  I began to formulate an elaborate plan for the work I would make in Vermont (recall the story of how the paintings evolved) and gathering the materials needed.  I wasn’t sure what would be readily available in Johnson, VT, so I acquired all of the plywood panels I would need, as well as all the other necessary studio materials.  I wanted to be able to get to work right away in the studio so I prepped some 50+ panels (cutting, sanding, finishing, etc) prior to leaving.  I felt like I was pretty well-covered from a supply standpoint.

At some point after the acceptance letter came, Tracy Helgeson (an online art buddy) and I figured out we would be going to VSC at the same time.  Tracy had been to VSC in the winter before and warned me about how cold and snowy it could be.  She encouraged me to purchase UnderArmor ColdGear and so I did.  I bought sweatshirts, heavy socks, gloves, hats, etc.  I was prepared for the cold!  Additionally, I stressed out over what car to drive and finally settled on my Nissan Maxima, front-wheel drive being the deciding factor.  It needed new tires so I stressed about which type to get.  I finally settled on highly rated all-season tires.  I felt somewhat ready for the weather, though I remained worried about driving conditions.

Another concern for me prior to leaving was that I injured my back in mid-December while playing basketball.  It was a fairly serious injury that caused a lot of discomfort, but fortunately it began to get better the week before I left.  I worried about the long drive and having to unload my car once there.  A hurt back would be no good during a residency.

The Drive

Stacey and I loaded the majority of my stuff the night before I left.  On Saturday morning we awoke early and finished packing the car.  I was sad to leave my wife but excited for the adventures ahead.  The forecast looked good and my back felt loose.  On the road I go!

The drive was uneventful.  I headed north at a good clip and stopped only twice during the 10-hour drive.  This was probably a bad decision.  Sometime during the second half of the drive I noticed that my back was tightening up.  I didn’t worry too much about because I thought it could rest once I arrived.  I didn’t see a single flake of snow until I hit Vermont.  It was dark at this point and I only had an hour or two to go.  The roads became mildly slick and GPS took me on some country roads.  I held up traffic on those two-lane roads but hoped my Virginia license plates would buy me some latitude from the more experienced Vermont drivers.  With an hour to go my back was hurting so bad that it became difficult to push the clutch.  I just wanted to make it to the hotel.

The arrival time at VSC is Sunday afternoon.  Due to timing, I opted to stay in the nearby town of Burlington, VT, for Saturday night and drive the remining hour on Sunday.  As I pulled into my hotel, the snow was falling hard.  Accumulation may have been 3″ or so.  I limped into the lobby and talked to the young guy behind the desk.  He said that the forecast was for a total of 6-10″ of snow overnight and that by morning the roads would be clear.  I went to my room, an awful room at that, and settled in.  I ordered a pizza and watched basketball.  I called my wife and assured her I was safe.  Eventually, I went to sleep.

When I awoke the next morning I wanted to see how the snow looked outside.  I opened the straight-from-the-70′s curtains and tried to focus my eyes.  All I could see was white.  I looked down and noticed a sign, but it confused me.  This was a standard sized sign that stood maybe four feet off the ground.  However, the snow came up to just a few inches below it.  Maybe it’s a strange short sign, I thought.  Knowing I would need to brush off my car, I got dressed and went outside.  Barely anything moved.  Why?  Because Burlington had just experience a freak record-breaking snowfall.  I eventually heard the final total was 33″.  Um… over night!  Just what my stiff, aching back needed.

I walked past what I figured were stranded motorists and went to the front desk to borrow a snow shovel.  The young lady informed me that they didn’t have one.  I wondered just how many people were in on this joke at my expense and asked her if she was certain that in Burlington, VT, they did not have a snow shovel.  She left the desk and eventually returned, snow shovel in hand.  My sore back and I proceeded to go to the car and begin shoveling it out.  Sometime later, the job was done.  I returned the elusive snow shovel to the desk and went back to the room.  I had to make a decision.  Do I brave it and get in the car and hit the road, or do I wait?  A rare impulsive urge hit me and I decided to drive.  Once in the car I floored it to break through the un-plowed parts of the parking lots.  The roads were passable, but barely.

An hour-long drive to Johnson took me two, but my brand new tires performed well.  I never went faster than 30mph because my directions were in on the joke too and sent me down curvy country roads.  With white knuckles and an angry back, I pulled into the parking lot at VSC.  I was safe.  I made it.  And I was still excited to get to work.  Take me to my studio!!

[to be continued]

I still plan to write more about my time at VSC, but I wanted to interrupt the flow of posts with a quickie sharing the first new paintings I’ve made since being back home.  As you can probably tell, I decided to pick up right where I left off.  These paintings are slightly larger (16″ x 16″) and in general the color of the larger forms and the pinstripe are bolder.  Here they are:

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

I apologize for the red tint to this image that seems to appear on PCs.  Anyone know what causes this?  I don’t see it on my Mac and I don’t know how to get rid of it.

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #2
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #2
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #3
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #3
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
16″ x 16″ x 1″
2010

Also of note is that I have uploaded a new section to my Web site for some of the new paintings I’ve been working on.  I’ve received some wonderful feedback about these works and feel they merit inclusion on the site.  You can see the new painting section by clicking here.

As always, I appreciate you taking the time to look at my work and welcome any feedback you may have.

While in Vermont for my residency, fellow artist Rob Hitzig visited my studio to see my work in person.  Prior to his visit he had only seen jpegs of the new wood panels I’ve been doing.  Walking around them in person proved to be a much different experience.  He was kind enough to write about the work.

My favorite line from his post is the last one: “It is too easy to do too much and with this work, being caught by surprise is what sets it apart.”

Unfortunately, it’s that “surprise” that I am unable to convey in jpegs.

As mentioned in the last post, a fellow resident, Baltimore-based Kim Manfredi, gave me an idea for a painting that piqued my interest.  She responded to the works where the applied paint looked like bands of tape with an idea along the lines of “what if the wood was the ‘tape’ and the paint was the ‘wood’?”  I’m not sure if these six paintings are what she had in mind, but it’s what I did with her prompting.  Here they are:

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #1
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #2
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #2
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #3
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #3
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #4
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #4
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #5
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #5
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #6
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Not Yet Titled #6
Acrylic paint, polyacrylic on walnut plywood
12″ x 12″ x 1″
2010

Interacting with the other residents and visiting artists at VSC is one of the primary reasons I wanted to do the residency.  We exchanged lots of ideas over the four-week duration and some were good, others were bad.  Recognizing and pursuing a good idea is a quick path to making better work.  As soon as Kim passed along this idea, I knew it had merit and I had to pursue it.  Although it required very quick work, late nights and early mornings, I was able to finish these pieces in time for the open studios.  I am extremely excited about this work and of all the paintings I made in Vermont, I feel this direction has the most potential for future development.  In fact, new versions of this work will be what I pursue first now that I’m home.  We’ll see where it leads.

This post is the last of work made while in Vermont.  In total, there were 43 new pieces made in approximately 24 working days.  In my next posts I will discuss more about the actual experience of being at the Vermont Studio Center.  I hope it’s obvious, but it was a fantastic experience.

Thanks for looking!