MAGNITUDE 7 at Manifest

My work, titled Galaxy (Shell, Fecundity, Emanation), will be seen at the 6th annual MAGNITUDE 7 exhibition at Manifest coming up at the end of this month. The piece is a mezzotint print that has been embossed with a unique collograph print.

And here’s my statement about the work for the show:

Over the last two years I have become increasingly enamored with the mezzotint printmaking process. I have used mezzotint as a way to find new and different access to some of the subject matter I have used for years in my paintings and drawings. Bricks, shells, geometric forms, and bodies have all become part of my mezzotint repertoire. Those geometric forms – specifically the Platonic solid called the dodecahedron – have begun to inform my mezzotints beyond simple representation; I have started using the angles of the dodecahedron and its constituent, the pentagon, as dimensional embossments upon the mezzotint prints.

In the work I present here at MAGNITUDE 7, titled Galaxy (Shell, Fecundity, Emanation), the beautiful gradients and milky consistency mezzotint is known for are used to display a shell, spinning in an amorphous space. Yet a fine tracery of lines and angular counterpoints shifts the surface level of the image itself, creating a bas-relief. The angles are formed using a collograph print over the final mezzotint. This collograph is a unique, one-time embossment; though the edition of mezzotints is all the same, the embossment seen in each print is one of a kind.

By embedding these angles (taken directly from the dodecahedron) onto the image of the spiral form shell, I reintegrate their inherent relationship, since both the spiraling of the shell and the angles of the quintessential Platonic solid display the natural mathematical beauty of Phi, the golden ratio. While the depiction of the shell can be a visual entry point for contemplation, the angles of the subtle embossment encode a physical reality into the artifice of the image. This duality is something I am hoping to develop more and more. I want the image and the icon, the depiction and the object, the picture of the idea and the idea itself, to become manifest in these prints as I continue them.

Current Shows, Catalogs, Essays

A lot going on these days.

The show I’m in at MANIFEST in Cincinnati has just released the catalog (cover below, click it to order one – it’s volume 43, bottom of the page).

Also, I’m included in a show at McNeese State University. Click here for more info. If you’re near Lake Charles, LA, go check it out!

I’ve got an article in the Columbia Daily Tribune up as well (and keep on the lookout over at Neoteric Art for my upcoming essay on Art and Subjectivity!). Click here to check out the Tribune piece. Below is one of the pieces I talk about (click it to see more about the image at the Brooklyn Museum):

Latest Essay – On Robert Henri, Subjectivity, and the Nature of Being

My latest essay, Subjectivity and Robert Henri, was published this week over on the Neoteric Art Blog. I’m really proud of the piece. It challenged me while writing it and I think it’s something I’ll go back to again and again.

Check it out here.

I have to say that Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space were major influences in the essay. Here’s to good thoughts and words, ones that reproduce (even if only in some small way) after their own kind.

A Note on Andy Goldsworthy

Andy Goldsworthy functions as an artist in a continuum of what I would call shamanistic principles: permeability, density, liminality, derivation, change, and transformation. That is, he manipulates and transforms the materials of the environment in some dynamic sympathy with them. This sympathetic approach is one that makes him keenly aware of his communication with and orientation toward the world. Because of this the work is in a very real sense suggested by the environment, the work’s parameters of possibility defined by the environment, and the artist’s intuitive making directed by the environment. There is very little “manhandling” going on here, very little ham-fisted, blundering action. His art is not an image of mankind dominating or playing flippantly with the world, but rather one of the sensitive investigator being moved forward by suggestions from within the investigated schema. His message is his articulation to the environment, not in some sort of neo-pagan hippy vagary, but in action, physical touch, biological aesthetics (i.e. basic 2D design and shape dynamics, which extends beyond the 2D into the 3D via his spatial and sensation-based investigations). The message isn’t linear like literacy or mathematics. It’s kinesthetic and alchemical. Zero irony, total being-ness. Awesome.

Get more info on Goldsworthy here and here.

The sketches I post here are ones I made during a visit I and my cousin Chris (a photographer) made to the Storm King Art Center in New York State to see Goldsworthy’s Storm King Wall. The trip was inspirational; I highly recommend making a stop at SKAC if you’re in the area.

Update (December 17, 2009): There’s a great piece on the ART21 Blog about Storm King that discusses the history of the place, how they think about acquiring/installing new work, and other interesting tidbits. Check it out.

Neoteric Art Writings

I’m a contributor to Neoteric Art, a brainchild of William Dolan and Norbert Marszalek. Good guys, both of ’em. Check out my latest short text about Richard Diebenkorn and my older piece on Cecily Brown and Linda Nochlin at the Des Moines Art Center.

Short Thoughts on Loving Diebenkorn’s Work

Visions of Violence and Pleasure: Cecily Brown and Linda Nochlin at the Des Moines Art Center

I’m looking forward to future writings appearing at Neoteric Art.

The Nature of Art

People are just as convinced that they are having a true experience of art when they see a work in reproduction as they are of believing that verisimilitude is the ultimate measure of value in a work of art.

Can’t we see this insanity for what it is?

It’s a circular logic meant to establish the mechanical and the processed over the physically experienced and subjective. Find me someone who thinks a good work of art is something that “looks just like!” something else and I’ll show you a person who is satisfied with mere reproduction, divorced sensation, advertisement, and disengagement.

Being with objects or people or places is NOTHING like mere pictures of objects or people or places. representational art has to go beyond mere depiction if it wants to be anything like reality since reality is nothing like mere depiction.

Notes on the Quintessence Series

In 1968 John Coplans, a British writer and artist best known for his photographic series of his own naked, aging body, wrote a seminal text for the trend-setting exhibition Serial Imagery. In his essay Coplans stated that serial imagery “is identified by a particular inter-relationship, rigorously consistent, of structure and syntax… a single indivisible process that links the internal structure of a work to that of other works within a differentiated whole.” Though I am very decidedly a representational painter concerned most primarily with the symbolic presentation of relational objects and human bodies, over the years I have found myself engaging in this sort of tightly defined, non-pictorial, serial procedure as Coplans defined it.

Key to my experience of the ideas present in Coplan’s text and the Serial Imagery show was the inclusion of Josef Albers’ Structural Constellation series and a number of Frank Stella’s Eccentric Shaped Canvas series. These works in particular (in tandem with my deep appreciation for Richard Diebenkorn’s Ocean Park series) inspired the direction of my periodic forays into serial artworks. In 2003 I created a body of work – and published a book containing them – entitled One Hundred Permutations. In this series I used a Minolta digital copier, the copiers manual, and my own instinctive, jarring movements of the manuals cover over the scanning element as it moved below. The 100 inter-related images were then transferred to screen prints and printed in editions of four. Some also found life through being projected onto canvases and recreated large scale in acrylic paint and permanent marker.

One Hundred Permutations originated through my musing on the shape and potential of a simple office copier. The Quintessence Series began with an ancient geometric form: the dodecahedron. I have been including dodecahedrons in my representational work for a number of years. Made from twelve pentagons, the dodecahedron was thought by Plato to be the physical shape of the universe and was the fifth – the quintessential – of his Five Solids. This Solid carries with it a number of meanings, not the least of which is the notion of a stage or arena where the machinations of reality take place.

The Quintessence Series, though it arose through a constrained aim and method similar to the One Hundred Permutations set, retained the individual actions of my hand and maintained certain aesthetic choices for me within the process that the previous series denied. Three woodblocks depicting various dodecahedron-inspired forms (some with a kind of naturalistic spatial illusion, others with a flat, more diagrammatic format) provide the basis for the works. Every individual work of the series takes the internal shapes and angles of the dodecahedrons created by the woodblocks as an abstract schematic starting point. Layering begins the real process. Each piece is the result of layered printings interspersed with monotypes and drawn or painted elements. The alternating monotyped and handworked elements are reactions to the suggestions made by the underlying states.

Part of what I enjoy about these works is the way they are pushing around my sensibility for creating flat, shallow, and traditionally plastic space. In all of my work, the sense of touch is important. I’m always playing with notions of bas-relief, of the micro vertigo of very limited suggestions of in-the-round depiction. The Quintessence works, in person, are charged with the tension between intentionally flat formalism and a structural depth. Some of this is caused by the suggestions of three-dimensional space that are inherited through the working layers from the initial woodblocks, partly counteracted by flattening subsequent working, partly enhanced by transparencies or angular effects which suggest space. There are areas of embossing, other areas of compacted material, and still others almost devoid of density at all. I find my mind constantly working over them, trying my eyes over certain areas, speeding across others. For me, the activity of making and looking at them is similar to attempting to mentally manipulate a Rubik’s Cube. There is a suggestion of stasis and implied movement there, a kind of holding of one state as given while actively conceptualizing a potential or future state. In this way the pieces seem very motile to me, shifting and changing with each viewing. I like them.

Ultimately, I always return to the figure. Does this mean that my more abstract, schematic, serial work is somehow less important? I do not think so, primarily because my very notion of composition itself is based on the same bedrock that inspired the modernists and mid-century artists who challenged representational depiction with a focus on idea, methods, and surface. Frank Stella himself testified to this reality in his Working Space lectures. While those artists cast off the themes and practices of the past, they never really abandoned the principles of visual dynamics that have informed the human understanding of art for thousands and thousands of years. When I look at my 100 Permutations Series or this current Quintessence Series, I see the same forces and dynamics that I use in my representational works. Here then is the value of my occasional non-pictoral work: to investigate the potential of composition apart from symbolic themes, to remove the coding and baggage of the human form and its presentation from primary consideration for a time. I will always return to them, my objects and bodies and symbols and narratives; but my return will be informed by a constructive visual logic that helps me understand and order what I want to see in new and – hopefully – better ways. So these serial series are not mere sidelines, but necessities, part and parcel of my creative life.