Drawing is…

Drawing is the literal manifestation of corrections, adjustments, and negotiations made during its own construction. A drawing (regardless of the manner of the image it displays) is always a representational work depicting the activity by which it was made. As we build a work, we self-correct. As we self-correct, we leave a trace of real observation and negotiation, declaring our willingness to leave behind what has not worked in the service of the total work and in anticipation of something that will work better. The final drawing is not a snapshot, not a slice of time, but a track record of integrations attempted, iterations discovered, and disparate elements syncretized.

Untitled (Beautiful Collision #3), Graphite on paper, 20 inches in diameter, 2008.

 

Inspiration – Piranesi

Giovanni Battista Piranesi created an amazing series of prints called Le Carceri (the Prisons). I recently found out that the Saint Louis Public Library has an edition of the prints, so I’ll be over there to see them soon.

The Prisons, Plate VII: The Drawbridge.

In these works the master deftly shows the ability for etchings – and really all of printmaking – to transcend the sense of a single, locked image that is a stereotype of the discipline. Using an inventive, intuitive action, Piranesi works the various states of the prison plates in dramatic fashion, transforming their contents, scale, and mood. The Dover publication of the first and second states of the plates is well worth the price.

I picked that book up in 2004 and it has inspired a great deal of my perspective on line work and current interest in printmaking as a malleable medium – as seen in the image above, titled The Weight (etching and mezzotint, 2008). Click on the image for a larger view.


Experiences, Not Products

There’s a great piece up on the Guardian UK website showing a film of famed painter Sean Scully talking about working, being a father, and other topics. Though I’m not a huge fan of his work, I love what he says here:

“You’re trying to, in a sense, imitate God because you’re trying to be creative. And I can never make anything better than Oisin (his son). That’s my greatest creation.”

and here:

“I’m not sure that I have a destination in mind. I’m on a journey. I don’t expect to arrive.”

and here:

“If you’re plotting art, and trying to make something to get something, you’re not in a state of creative innocence. You’re not making art. You’re doing something else.”

This last bit is fantastic. I find it quirky for an artist like Scully – who has exhibited such consistency and clearly defined formatting for decades – to make that statement. But it is really something I believe in. I tell my students constantly: I couldn’t care less about products – I want experiences. I think that’s part of what Scully is saying there.

I don’t want my students to merely execute skills or master techniques; I want them to live out the sense of being that’s wrapped up in obtaining those skills or using those techniques. Making artwork is physical philosophy… it’s a musing on what it means to be miraculously conscious, purposefully aware, intuitively engaged and intellectually stimulated by a range of actions and tremendously important conditions of the human body/mind.

Above: Sketchbook drawing from 2006… it keeps coming back to me. Some day it’ll resolve into an image.

I saw the Scully story via Two Coats of Paint. Check out that blog.

Installing at Gordon

Today I arrived at Gordon College to install my exhibition of paintings, drawings, and prints, titled Redeeming Tensions. Bruce Herman, a Professor at Gordon and director of the gallery, worked with Leo (installer extraordinaire!) and me to hang the show. Here are a few shots of it all going up.

I also spoke for Associate Professor Michael Monroe’s class of 75 or so – fielding all of the students’ questions made for a good time.

More tomorrow after the opening reception talk. If you’re in the area (eastern Massachusetts), stop by! It’ll be at the Barrington Art Center on the Gordon Campus.

So far I’ve felt such a kinship with everyone here. It’s a great place; the beautiful campus has a massive blanket of snow but everyone is pleasant and uplifting to talk to. I’m really looking forward to the reception…

…slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God

Twenty-five years ago today I was a third-grader in Grove City, PA. It was a special day: my class would get to watch the Shuttle launch carrying Christa McAuliffe, a grade school teacher, to space. 73 seconds into the flight – right after the “go at throttle up” confirmation from commander Dick Scobee, the Challenger exploded.

You can see the launch and aftermath as it appeared live on CNN here.

Regardless of what you think about President Reagan, politics, or government in general, the speech crafted after the disaster and delivered by Reagan was amazing and has been a kind of lodestone for me, a testament to attempting great things, to loving this wonderful universe, and respecting the men and women who explore its secrets at all levels. You can see the speech here.

Perhaps the genius of the speech was its use of John Gillespie Magee, Jr’s poem, High Flight as its coda: “We shall never forget them nor the last time we saw them, as they prepared for their mission and waved good-bye and ‘slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God’.”

It still gives me a lump in my throat.

I can’t really explain to you what this event meant for some people of my generation. Many people I’ve talked to who are a generation older than me are a little taken back that it matters to so many of us. During one of my undergraduate classes back in 2000 or so, the professor – who’d lived through Civil Rights and Woodstock and Vietnam – reamed us kids out for caring about a failure of the “military industrial complex” and the loss of merely seven lives. He thought we’d romanticized it and weren’t realistic, that we didn’t have proper perspective. We hadn’t lived through years of seeing the names of the dead in South East Asia scrolling over TV screens every day. If we had, we’d know what a waste NASA was and how appropriate it was that the dream was shattered. Maybe he was right in a way, but not ultimately.

That’s because, unfortunately, we’ve had that chance he spoke of: we’ve been in this current wartime for many years. We’ve seen the lists of the dead. And we’ve had another Shuttle disaster. In my mind there’s a dramatically huge difference between the two. One is the result of governments and power brokers and militants and corporations and terrorists and yea-sayers creating – nay, manufacturing through manipulation – a war. The other is the result of a genuine human attempt to know more about our universe, to care for our world, to craft unity in the midst of our diversity, to develop important technologies to help us help ourselves and each other. I weep over the lives of men and women who die in foreign lands for governments who use them as pawns in their global power plays. But those who die in the attempt to learn more, in the fierce determination to go farther and see more of what we are and where we live – these fallen lend their force of life to all of us and it is not wasted. If the strong have to die, I’d rather they die in the service of all humankind, not in support of fallacies, tribal rivalries, illegal land-grabs, and inane prejudices.

That’s why the Challenger Disaster is important to me. It makes me proud of humanity. It highlights the best of us. But these wars and attacks and shootings and bombings – like the recent gun attack in Arizona and bombing in Moscow – display only the worst. Hubris, destruction, the desire to dominate others. These things are wrong.

So yes, I am romanticizing the Challenger shuttle and her crew because they represent a lot of what is right with humanity.

Greg Jarvis

Christa McAuliffe

Ron McNair

El Onizuka

Judy Resnik

Dick Scobee

Mike Smith


The Figure Now at Fontbonne University

I have two pieces up at Fontbonne University’s show “The Figure Now”Michael Grimaldi was the juror. The mailer invite card is below, and below that one of my works from the show. If you’re in/near Saint Louis over the next month, stop over and check it out (and my two other current shows (in VA and WV) are on view now and will be up for a while).

(click for a larger view/event info)

 

The Angles, graphite on paper, 42 inches in diameter.