Can't be helped

Jonesing for Art

It's the dead of winter... looking for a little life - creativity - SOMETHING! Cabin fever hits hard for those of us who crave culture to feel alive. Thank God for places like www.DailyPainters.com. I can be at work and needing just a five minute breather of art -- and when I can not take the time off or I do not want to scale the snow mounds to get to a museum or a gallery, I can log on-line and get my art fix. It's like my private virtual museum with a constantly changing show. Thanks Daily Painters!

Time to turn art into food - check out this great event and get a little piece of art while helping feed those who could use a little support right now. www.circle-of-art.net

And here is my contribution to the end of a season "Snow Blossoms"

Art Patron

Well, I've decided that I'm leaning more towards being an Art Patron as of late... where once before I might have been undecided -- but given the shaky economy I've managed to purchase two major pieces of art (well, actually one was acquired at great encouragement by my husband -- which came as a great surprise to me! And be it far from me to turn down encouragement!), against better economic judgement. So -- given the "I can't help myself" aspect of this behavior -- I'd have to say I'm turning into a patron, (at least this is such a nice way to say "collector" which can so easily bare negative connotations as in "cat collector" ).

One of the pieces is truly "outsider art" and despite always having fantasies commencing with any art purchase of some distant Antiques Roadshow revealing of my great find and great artistic eye and fortethought -- I doubt this "duct tape" art will mature to that level in my lifetime.... and frankly I don't know the longevity of the adhesive qualities of duct tape to know if it will even make it into the "antique" category. But -- I LOVE THIS PIECE.., I always have... I first saw it in a local coffee shop, (yes the one I fondly remiss about quite freqeuntly), and it was not for sale...

(This is just a close-up section of the larger piece to show the duct tape detail. Artist: Pete Warburton)

Hola Daily Painters!

I didn't expect visits from you all, but thank you and I trust that Micah passed along my absolute delight in the self-portrait theme of today.  With that, I am including a self-portrait (photograph) -- the light is very favorable don't you think?!  

Thank you all for your great work, I visit Daily Painters every day and am renewed every time when I see all that creative effort.

Institutions

Vacant Lot

New art smell

It's like having a new baby in the house.  I picked up an oil painting last week that I had purchased back in February from a local artist who had kept it until now for a show that he had this spring.  It is hanging in the upstairs hallway and every time I walk by I get a faint whiff of a fresh-off-the-easel oil painting.  Not overpowering, just enough to know that there is new art in the family -- such a wonderful smell.   

Time for Art - Employee Art Show

It's the most wonderful time of year at work -- for me.  The annual employee art show - it is one of the most amazing things about where I work.  

My current job has no relationship to creating art, though I've done my best to insert opportunities where I can -- I design needed brochures, build web sites and volunteer to sit in meetings regarding office re-design.  I plan nearly all year for the three pieces I'm allowed submit in this coveted show -- my only real opportunity to validate time spent as an artist.

It amazes me though how I always seem to run out of time.  This year I was only able to produce one acrylic, (a rather tortured process for me as this is only the second painting I've done).  I usually submit pastels or photographs, and this year -- though I made a promise not to submit photos again, I resorted to two more photos - time ever fleeting.

But here is the misconception I have -- I think of photography as my "quick fix" to create... when I have just a few moments between the demands of being a parent, and employee a daughter.  And then I pour over hundreds of quickly snapped pictures and find myself spending considerable time trying to narrow the field down to a workable group -- and then I start the process of tweaking certain ones -- perhaps those with a better composition but not the correct exposure -- and hours go by.  

I did "sell" my first two photographs recently - through a fundraiser for Food Gatherers.  I donated pictures that were a direct outcome of participating in past years employee art shows .  So a fitting end to what sometimes I think may be wasted hours -- at least a bit was converted into a good cause and hopefully a hot meal for a few.

Given that I did win a best in category a few years back for pastels -- I should probably stick to the medium, but strangely enough -- after winning that award I have not done another pastel.  I think I am seeking validation in other mediums as the piece that did win a ribbon was something I had done on the fly -- in 30 minutes or less... it just didn't seem worthy of winning anything as it hardly represented any investment on my part.  

But on the flip side, a lot of time invested does not guarantee good art.   I spent nearly two weeks on an assemblage based on a question I recall in 2nd grade;

"Do you think you will see a woman in the White House within your lifetime?"

In trying to convey this notion -- of which I used Clinton's recently failed bid for the Democratic nomination as a vehicle to carry this concept, I was frustrated at the misunderstanding and puzzled looks when showing the piece to a select few.  ("It looks like a school kids diorama", "It doesn't really hang together without a written explanation; maybe you should just write about this subject instead..."  "Are you trivializing Clinton?"  "Are you in mourning that she lost?" "Are you a Republican or a Democrat?")  I ended up ditching it as an entry into the show. (BTW, it was about female roles of power in America and what they are, where they are at, where they have been -- replete with  scratched and chipped glass ceiling -- but even by having to explain this - I know it fails as a piece of art.)

Well, my three selected pieces were submitted last week after spending days going back and forth on the naming process, (is "untitled" a name?!) -- now I just have to wait two more weeks to see the show... always a humbling experience.  I remember last year thinking - "Wow, now I see what separates a 'good' photograph from a 'great' one", mine of course not being of the later.   (Hence my earlier decision not to take the "shortcut" of creating art by submitting photographs!)  All in all, photography takes time -- not sure I have enough of it to produce competent photographs, heck I'm still trying to learn how to operate my relatively new digital SLR. But I always have until next year's employee art show - a whole year!

Shelter & Vines

A Day in the Garden

Rain At My Window - Nocturne #1, 2 & 3

Forest Alignment

Frustrated Gardner

Today I spent the better part of the day cleaning up the yard.  I realized I approach spring clean-up much the way I do my art collection.  I'm constantly re-arranging plants to better show case their colors or shape -- a sort of outside metamarism.    

Of course there are the plants that looked good in the shop but do absolutely nothing for me once within the palette of my yard.  Over the years I've come to realize that I only like blue greens, pink and white near the front of my house -- yellow looks absolutely horrid.  

And then of course there are the "fashionable" plants that I tire of -- they all get up-rooted and put into a large bed in the back corner of my yard -- sort of an island of misfits.  I have a small crate of art with a few pieces that I don't quite know what I was thinking when I purchased; they may have outlived the fad, or simply don't have the right context in which to shine in my home.

The frustration I sense is the fact that it is never settled; with every new piece of art or every new plant that I must have -- it causes a cascade of events while I struggle to fit it in to an already overcrowded environment with lots of stars.  I upset things I'd previously worked diligently to balance, or I realize I really have no open space for which to display -- and off to the bin or the island they go.  

I have tried to give away plants and art when I know it would have a better chance somewhere else... and then too, I make endless promises to myself to not go to another nursery, or not to look at any more art... why I don't know -- it most certainly is an exercise in futility for me!

Stories

I changed the tag line under the heading of this blog from: "PORTRAIT OF AN EMERGING, CONTEMPORARY VISUAL ART COLLECTOR" To: "Portrait of Art Seeker". (And then I changed it a few more times!)

I did this because I don't think it will just be "visual art" that I will end up talking about, nor do I think it will be limited to collecting. As this evolves I feel that it will be more centered on the art experience in the full spectrum.

Recently I came across a local artist through ETSY, and was fascinated with the jewelry that was made, primarily from the stand point of the stories that were detailed with each listed piece. I bought a bracelet about legacies and entitlements and then went back several days later and purchased 3 more items -- primarily because the stories resonated with me. (One was about freedom, another was about the lesson of 'resilience' and one was the ideals of a small mid-western college town.)

Though these items were billed as "jewelry" and perhaps are more centered in "crafting", (primarily due to the assemblage of recycled images) -- the stories transcended the piece into "art" for me. The word smithing was as much of the experience as the tangible jewelry, and in fact elevated the work into a fine work of art due to the complex stories interwoven with the layout of the images that made the links in the bracelet.

I recall a time that I was considering going to an art opening in which I, (along with a large group of others who had answered an open call), had assisted an artist creating a large installation piece. I was sure of my participation -- firmly rooted in helping another artist express themselves -- but I was struck by the artist own pre-conceived notions of her helpers -- My frustration peaked when she indicated I was the voice of the "stay at home Mom" in her project. This certainly was not how I saw myself, nor had anything to do with why I chose to contribute to the project. So, I decided to create a shirt for the opening that was going to be made up of my own labels. Nobody was going to tell the story of "me" other than myself.

I used an iron labeling system on an old blue jean shirt and typed out words and phrases -- I included short bits of stories I had written, my favorite things, descriptors of my own, (like caffeined), and so on. I even got creative and used regionally based areas of the shirt to tie to the words, (a statement about time was ironed on the left wrist of the shirt, a comment about idiots was place near the tail of the back of the shirt, etc.)

I tried the shirt out in a local coffee shop and was very aware of the stares, I even caught someone very close to my back -- apparently in mid-sentence when I turned suddenly. I ultimately decided to skip the opening entirely as I felt that my protest may be ill timed. An opening, though might invite creative interaction, is clearly a time and place for the featured artist. I only wore the shirt in public one more time and some years later to a Halloween party -- I went as an "open book", (but nobody really got it there either!). I still have the shirt in my closet and wonder how long I'll hang on to it.

But isn't this what art is for some? To scream out to the world and to defy how you are perceived -- to say this is who I am, this is what I think about, this is how I see things? Aren't the stories away of working out the injustices we see, or the beauty that we know is temporary? Wether or not we use actual words or merely images, (and sometimes a combination of both), it is all story telling.

Visitor

Well, I can see that I'm my one an only visitor... Today I am watching the Serviceberry tree outside my window, (the bud picture below is this tree). I see all the pretty blossoms waiting ... I am hoping to see a bee or some other flying bug capable of pollinating these blooms -- as I am so waiting for the big red berries that the robins will go to great lengths to pluck off the tree. Of course this is all for my amusement -- outside my window. I planted the tree to entice the birds. I added a copper bird bath as well. For a few years not much has happened in this little niche. I saw more wasps then birds. But this spring, I did see a chickadee visit quite a few times in one day -- but I haven't seen him since. Perhaps he was scoping the wreath on my front door that seems to attract nesting birds -- but gave up at the sight of the big aluminum foil ball I placed strategically in the wreath to discourage the suitability of bird home building -- primarily from the stand point that we have many times been unable to use the front door for fear of babies falling out of their nest inside our foyer.

What does this have to do with art? I'm not really quite sure. Seeing as I only have an audience of one with this blog, I don't feel quite the need to perform the expected duties of art collecting musing... maybe that is what is happening with the bees and the birds who seem reluctant to come to my window.

Happy Spring!

Facsimile of Art

The first time I saw Hopper's Night Hawks I couldn't help but think of the great injustice the reproductions of this piece were -- that I had seen all my life. The squint of green on the original was a green like no other I'd ever seen.

I had never considered an original piece to be so different visually from reproductions. The actual piece was way better than I could have ever imagined -- and though the subject was unmistakably the image firmly rooted in my mind -- it was so much more. I could understand the 'greatness' of this piece, where as previously I never quite got what all the fuss was about.

Today there seems to a bit of an opposite problem. A number of the original pieces I have acquired on-line have paled a bit in comparison to the facsimile delivered by my monitor. In fact all but one of the pieces I have purchased have actually looked better on my computer. There is a luminosity that my monitor delivers that the actual piece seems to lack.

I have even noticed this in my own art attempts. An acrylic painting that I had been struggling with, looked so much better photographed and photo shopped a bit on my computer that it actually inspired me to go back to the original painting and give it a darker tonal wash -- things I may have been afraid of doing permanently to the original piece, I first tried out on my computer and this gave me confidence to go ahead and make improvements.

All the pieces that I have acquired that didn't look nearly as good as their on-line representation -- I've grown to love them for the aspects that make them different from what I first envisioned them to be, (it tends to be in the color palette.) Only one of the pieces was I pretty disappointed with in terms of how the colors were registered on my monitor -- shades of blue and taupe that ended up being school bus yellow. I think sometimes artist make adjustments to their on-line art images, trying to adjust their monitor to better reflect what they see... but given the wide variety of computer systems and hardware out there -- they can't possibly take into account how things will look across the net.

I'm including the computer altered image of the painting I was working on, that inspired me to go back and alter the painting.

Copyright 2008 This may not be reproduced in any manner without prior consent from The Art Encounterist

In The Beginning...

It all began... well, frankly I can't remember. Growing up, we made art, we didn't buy it. We did not have money to spend. We began to forsake time in our quest to make money -- and eventually there came a time that we didn't make any more art. We visited art; at the homes of artist, in galleries and museums - but even time encroached on this habit.

The first time I considered purchasing a piece of art was during the coffee shop boom near the turn of our most modern century. Small oils, mostly rural farming scenes, were displayed on a reclaimed brick wall, pieces from the shop owner's artist sister-in-law. I visited the shop frequently for my favorite beverage and due to my snobbish coffee palette; this was one of only a few I would consider. The drive was nearly 60 miles from my home, (but less than one from my home to be).

The paintings were like welcoming neighbors to a village I was yet to be part of. At some point I no longer wanted to visit, I wanted ownership. Tentatively approaching the front counter, I was informed that the small painting of a twiggy tree in front of a barn - the one I wanted most -had sold.  This marks one of my earliest and ongoing dilemmas in acquiring art; not being able to get what I finally decide upon.  I used to think this was because I liked what everyone else did and that I was slow to make up my mind, (though one time I arrived 15 minutes into the outset of a show, swiftly and assuredly made up my mind, turned to the artist only to have them say that they has just sold the piece!) but I've had pieces lost in the mail, and one was even stolen from the artist studio before shipping.   

There were second and third choices of course. There were lengthy discussions with fellow coffee shop patrons as to what would make a good purchase -- one that represented the general body of work, or the one that stepped beyond. Perhaps the one that lacked detail but the color or composition was pleasing. Indecision turned into inaction.

The day I finally moved, a house warming gift was presented to me from my mother and sister. Wrapped in newspaper, I was sure it was a painting from the local coffee shop. It was one that was atypical of the artist's subject matter and was rather simple in that it was a small vase of peachy mums. I was glad for the gift and for the decision that I did not have to make.

The painting found its way on a small interior wall that is often viewed from the kitchen. I catch glimpses frequently... the flower colors complementing the ivory tone of the new walls in this old village.

The fit was instant and sure. A few years later, with the closing of the coffee shop, I hadn't anticipated the painting evolving into a token memory of a earlier time, but it did -- one I'm glad to have. It reminds me of the warmth and comfort I took in that coffee shop after traveling a distance on concrete encased roadways - it helps focus the smell of the coffee roast and the honey color of the wood floors in my memory -- and many cups of perfect espresso.

What am I?

I have spent the better part of 2 weeks, actively trying to find a name that defines this blog and to capture the spirit of what I intend to cover. I have been around art all my life, yet have only recently considered purchasing art directly from artists. This journey of deciding what I like, what to purchase and how to live with it along with decisions of when to just appreciate a piece in it's unveiling or when to create my own work is what I seek to convey. How to describe that?

When looking for blog names or domain names that would succinctly identify the purpose, I ran into prevailing tones and connotations that just didn't fit.

The not-quite-right list includes:

• Collector: I do not go from art gallery to art gallery with checkbook in hand. I don't get my name on show opening lists and plan my attendance attire with just the right well heeled but arty look. In fact, it is only a bit of extra money that I came into this year that has allowed me to purchase a small selection of equally small works. I don't expect this to be an ongoing resource, so most likely next year I will revert to an admirer. Not to mention, I see a collector acquiring exceptional (or at least decent), pieces and not necessarily having a clear plan for the piece in mind -- Storage as a destination in lieu of the perfect place at the moment. I couldn't imagine placing my discretionary income spent on art in a closet or a storage bin somewhere for the eventuality of its emergence (though I guess technically that is what my 401K is doing). Then too, there is collecting for purely speculative reasons (I have more to say on this in a future blog).

• Connoisseur: No expert here. Doesn't fit. I like what I like - sometimes I can tell you why, and sometimes not, but never from a perspective of an educated or trained eye in the art world.

• Fan: Again, doesn't fit. A fan implies an undiscriminating love, which removes the aesthetic discerning of what I like and what I don't. To me a fan would mean someone who loves all art, or all art produced from one artist, etc. That doesn't leave room for the judgment -- part of the process that I greatly enjoy. I'm too fickle to be a fan.

• Appreciator: Who doesn't appreciate art to some extent? I think this might speak to degrees of art appreciation, but I think also it implies someone who may have a technical knowledge that affords them a second level experience with a piece of work -- an appreciation for the skill, effort, challenge etc. The technical knowledge I do not have. I don't know if I have the ability to "appreciate", I'm still in the "like" or "don't like" camp with little ability to appreciate other aspects outside of my initial reaction.

• Enthusiast: Well, only until recently have I actively sought out art venues, (and primarily on-line), so nah... can't say that I am. (Though I've been enthusiastic enough about what I have been going through to want to create this on-line diary to track my journey.) I also think growing up with an artist doesn't allow me to be an enthusiast in the full sense of the word -- To a great extent, art was just a state of being from my earliest memories; it was every where, often piling up like lint in corners of rooms.

• Spectator: ? Well, clearly this is a sport based audience description -- doesn't really work as I liken this to cheering on things that don't always make sense to me. I'm thinking of things that may involve forms of what I consider violent human contact -- and though an emotion this does draw from me, (usually along the lines of shock and horror - both for what I'm viewing and for the realization that I'm often alone in the arena with my reaction), it is not the usual one evoked when I am viewing art.

• Patron: Definitely not. Though I support all artists trying to make it - I have nothing other than kind words and good thoughts to spur them on. I do not have a body of influence (either in friends, money or social standing), to qualify as a patron. And given the love hate relationship that sometimes exist between artists and their patrons, I'm not so sure I even want to be in the position to be a patron.

• Dilettante: Well, possibly, but there is a frivolous connotation with this description -- I don't take my attachment to art as frivolous -- It may not always be 'all consuming', or 'fully informed', but when I'm engaged, it feels pretty serious and powerful to me. And right or wrong, I have this image of some Victorian period female corseted and ruffled to absurd levels looking for things to fill empty time.

• Consumer: Though at may levels this works for me as it is devoid of the pompous aspects to many of the preceding descriptors, it is also cold and hard and reflects nothing of the passion that I feel when viewing art, (well, at least art that I like.) I also like the implication that there isn't necessarily a monetary exchange in consumption; you can consume art by merely visiting a show. You soak it in, develop a memory and recall it later, it feeds you and leaves an impression -- but I'm not so sure that others would instantly know this without a more evolved narrative context -- so yet another rejected word.

• Student of Art/Art Education: Since I have no intent to learn the detailed aspects of art creation, (and really there are so many types of art and materials and techniques -- not my interest to pontificate or even necessarily fully understand all), rather my intent is to focus on my experience as an observer and my reaction. Squarely I'm in the audience, not in the performance. (Though maybe more fully an audience member screaming at the edge of a stage, hands held high to catch the occasional contact or the occasional crossover from observer to participator.)

• Acquirer: Not dissimilar to why I don't like "collector" -- not only am I limited in my ability to acquire, (and not just from a monetary standpoint but from the point of space - storage and display -- as I don't live in a museum), there is the other added implication of ownership that I feel never quite applies to a piece of art. I can't truly own a piece, the artist always supersedes ownership by the mere act of creation - not to mention that there is a level of ownership from all who see the object. I feel I can only purchase the right to control where it's displayed and even that has an end date -- but who wants to talk about their own mortality?!

So what am I? I have searched a bit and seem unable to find a word that describes who I am with this intersection of art...

I am someone who wants to support the efforts of artist (like I mentioned, I grew up with several). When I have the funds, I want to vote with my dollars and support the charity of the artist quest, (100% of the funds go straight to the source if you buy directly!).

I want to purchase things that appeal to me, mean something to me, and that I can afford. (To be clear: I will choose food over art!) It is also important that I am able to live with the pieces I acquire - so context and environment of display have a significant consideration for me as well.

When the English language seemed unable to provide me with a descriptor that I felt rang true... I turned to foreign lands to see if there existed terminology to describe someone who wasn't an active artist or a full fledged patron; rather a casual collector, sometime producer and willing participant.

Perhaps in ancient cultures or in the study of sociology -- might they have come up with something sensitive enough to categorize this individual? Or is it just a matter of: either you are a full fledge connoisseur of art or you aren't? No room for shades of gray in this portrait I suppose.