Let your wild side play!

There's a part of me that's buried deep inside, a non-conformist wild side, a misbehaving child who I'm afraid to let out because god knows what demons she's going to unleash this time. It's a sexual, innocent, wondering creature who wants to dance, to explore, to enjoy her own company. The only time this wild spirit gets let out is while I'm painting. It doesn't matter what I'm painting. What matters is that it's a huge weight off my shoulders to let this hidden shameful part of me off the leash.

This is why when more and more life responsibilities are weighing on me, I find this time in the studio more and more needed. I retreat more and more into my shell.

Even in the process of painting my holding onto recognizable imagery and symbols is a sign of something holding me back. When it's just colors reaching deep into my soul, and textures playing like notes on my subconscious, that's when I truly love the process. Yet, at the end, the more reasonable, calculative, bashful side of me takes over and envelops it all in form, something like a fence to hold in all the raw emotions. When, oh when will they finally become unfenced?

Two of my students accidentally came into my studio and helped me melt wax. The sheer joy in their faces was unbelievable! How I'd love to simply be fulfilled with that joy.

MOMA's Inventing Abstraction exhibit

Ending up in NYC by chance during the Holidays, I had a chance to view the groundbreaking Inventing Abstraction exhibit at MOMA in its first opening days. I have to say it was exactly what the doctor prescribed, a show the focus of which is the linking of a global strive towards abstraction. A huge map of connections, almost Linked-in like, greets you at the entrance, and you immediately realize that noone ever works in a vacuum, that all these separate geniuses whose work you admire for its originality, were in fact influenced by someone else perhaps even continents away. That famous phrase 'everything's been done before' no longer seems scary as it becomes clear that you can still find your voice in relationship to other voices.


Wassily Kandinsky

I also discovered during this show that abstract art has a formula, an easy one at first sight, but something that might take a while to adapt to in terms of your own preferences. The equation is made of three variables: color, paint application, and form. With my idol Kandinsky, forms obviously derive from a landscape, peaks and voids of mountains and gardens are visible, and a bold pure black line outlines them all. The canvas texture peaks thru as the color is applied in one expressive layer. To him, all the symbolism is in color: "I know what undreamed of possibilities color conceals within itself".

Robert and Sonia Delaunay research the sphere and place opposite colors side by side, shading their tonalities within a sphere.

Robert Delaunay

The futurists are all about hard lines, lots of cones, triangles and sharp edges. There's tremendous play of opposites and shading from light to dark. I especially loved Gino Severini, and the expressive strokes in his drawings.

Gino Severini

 

The Russian suprematists are difficult to grasp as it's just pure geometry and planes of color, but for them the very fine application of paint with tiny brushes across various planes seems key. Liubov Popova was a revisited discovery for me this time around.

Liobov Popova

 



 

Georgia O'Keefe all the way on the other side of the globe is so organic that it feels like she's painting plants or human forms and she's of course been criticized or applauded for that time and again, depending on the era. What she said I found truly powerful: "I found I could say things with color and shape that I couldn't say in any other way, things I had no words for." Her line is very musical, sensual and the palette is soft, pastel-like. A tiny brush and methodical application is, however, her method of paint application.

Georgia O'Keefe

 

And then of course, there're the Dutch and the famous Piet Mondrian with his grids of vertical and horizontal lines. Somehow, I didn't realize he was Dutch and that others right beside him were part of the De Stijl movement. Nevertheless, his piece below simply blew me away. Everything is perfectly balanced and your eye moves around to methodically placed limited colors. Unlike Kandinsky, he employs layers upon layers of paint in a soft, calming way, once again - balanced.

 Piet Mondrian

 

It's a grand show, and a must for anyone in love with abstraction. It's also perfectly presented for those simply curious about the development of art in the 20th century and not quite getting what abstract art is all about. All the greats are here, perhaps with the purposeful ommission of the usual suspects like Picasso, Matisse and Cezanne. Kudos to MOMA and to its curatorial staff!

 

 



Balance

If you pay attention to spreading one color in a balanced way around the canvas, you don't run the risk of getting stuck in the details - a true pitfall. You're also then a lot more cognizant of the type of stroke you're making - for me it's the short horizontal slab with a palette knife that brings the most satisfaction, especially when there's sufficient color that your edge can examine their relationships. Another element that adds to the sameness of texture is s the tool you use, that is staying with same palette knife or brush if repetition is desired, or switching it to a thin outline with a tiny yet bold brush line. I'm certainly a descendant of Russian painters (Kandinsky, Chagall, Rothko), string  the bold black outline is very important to me after all, especially when it's a jagged dancing stroke that seems to resemble a sting. The appearance of this pulsating string seems to be more importance than simply the color relationships. Pay close attention to the palette you're mixing on for pleasing color combinations - this might be the best guide for your painting's progress if nothing else. And know when you get tired in order to stop before it's too late.

Have you checked what you're listening to lately?

So it may seem obvious or it may not, but what's on my stereo is always influencing what gets out and on to canvas. I've grown up with hard rock music and oftentimes it triggers nostalgic memories and aids me in bringing me back to my roots and their expression. Other times, it's just too strong of an influence. The lyrics are meddling with my thought process, making me unable to focus and concentrate. A Latin motive may elicit more energy than I may have had on a given day, but it soon begins to almost dictate what type of line and color it wants. Classical or soft jazz rhythms are usually too calming for me. My art sensibilities require peaks and voids and strong voices or instruments. However, I am always in search of meditational music that focuses on repetitions of phrases that I cannot understand. Then, it's simply a voice that I react to and it's almost like a conversation in the background an the foreground. It's a prety incredible exercise to switch between various musical genres during an art studio visit. But, beware of what it may do to a painting. It may make it a bit too saturated and confusing.