ten feet of crazy energy

A New Year of Giving

2012-01-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

There’s no question that 2011 was adifficult year in the art world around me. Local galleries were closing down and some are still teetering on theedge of bankruptcy. Several artists I know were forced to give up their studiosand take their practices home. Although I realize that many artists thrive inhome studios, the ones I know were wistful about leaving the artistic supportand community of a studio building, but resigned to the fact that they could nolonger afford it. Other artists had to put their art on the back burner and take up better-paying jobs. During this year’sCulture Crawl, I heard more people speak frankly about the financialaspect of collecting artwork, saying that they loved a lot of the work thatthey saw on the Crawl but they couldn’t afford it. British Columbia bucked the trends for a while, but the economic turndown has finallycaught up with consumer attitudes.

I have to consider myself fortunate in allthis turmoil, my art sales have remained steady and while I haven’t experiencedthe growth I’ve had during stronger economic times, I’m happy with myart business.

Each year, I try to set up a general goalfor my art. In the past, goals have beento get more public gallery shows and to generate more media coverage of my art. Although I have a business background, I never set specific goals, such as: “Increase sales by 25%,” because that would be pointless. I can't control the market, and while a big art sale might increase sales temporarily, it would harm my sales in the long term. My goals are more general. When opportunities arise, I take those that move me in thedirection of my goals, all the while maintaining my painting practice and myregular marketing efforts.

This year my goal is a little different, it's a philosophical goal. I’m calling 2012: A Year of Giving. Being anartist, I work alone in my studio, and operate my art business is in a vacuum, and while I have donated art to institutions like the Vancouver GeneralHospital and the National Nikkei Museum, I’d like to be more mindful of my partin a world that needs a little generosity right now.

What I mean by giving is not just givingart to different charities and auctions, because I already have some strongopinions on that subject. I’m thinking about giving in terms of donating artsupplies to programs that need them, donating time, promoting other artists Ilove, and even giving a little joy to all the people that like my art.

I’ll blog about some of these endeavours asthey occur, since this blog is always a place to freely give: information, amusement and advice. Meantime, stay tuned for more!

Studio 101

2011-11-24T22:25:00.001-08:00

Today I got to help some Grade 6 & 7 students as they painted light and shadow under the direction of artist Bernadine Fox. In fact, all of Williams Clark studios was hopping this afternoon, as more than 50 students from Queen Alexandra school in East Vancouver learned arts skills from painting to printing-making to calligraphy to textile art, all free and all thanks to a program called Studio 101.

The Eastside Culture Crawl underlines the relationship between a thriving artist population and the diverse community of East Vancouver. The Crawl strives to give back to the community too, and Studio 101 is one way this happens. Studio 101 began four years ago, under the direction of Richard Tetrault, Katherine Youngs and Mira Malatestinic, who originally came up with the idea. They wanted to find a way to inspire kids about art and the artists in their own community. This program first goes into the school and prepares the students for the experience they will have in an artists studio . They are given Artist Trading Cards that describe the artist's creative process and biography. Then students from one school within the Culture Crawl boundaries spend an afternoon at the studios of six or seven different artists in a single building in the Crawl, where they will participate in an art project created by the artists. They finish with a unique piece of artwork to take home. Finally, each of the artists submits an artwork to the school, the students view the artworks and then vote on which one they would like to hang in the school. The piece of art selected then becomes part of the school's collection and is paid for by the program.

Division 4 of Seymour School in my studio (thanks to Andrea Wilks for the photo)

Studio 101 benefits the students, since they get to see art-making going on in their own community as well as having a chance to do something completely different with their artist/teachers. The teachers also seem to enjoy the opportunity to explore the studios and meet the artists. And the school benefit from having an artwork for their permanent collection. The artists benefit from a chance to work with children, which is always energizing, and they receive a small stipend for the work, as well as payment for their art if it's selected. The Culture Crawl fundraises to provide the financial backing for Studio 101.

Presenting my painting with Richard Tetrault

Last year, Studio 101 took place at my building, The Mergatroid, and I was one of the lucky artists who taught a class. The kids walked the five blocks from Admiral Seymour School, and then took part in making books, clay works, paintings and in my studio, crazy multi-media works not unlike my own! I was also privileged enough to be selected as the artist whose artwork went to the school. I can tell you, it's the highlight of an artist's life when you stand in front of the end of year assembly and get to hear a whole school oooh and aaah over your painting. My painting, Go Canada Go, is now hanging in the school hall and I hope it inspires one or two kids to reach for the brightest colours in their paintbox.

Go Canada Go! (Can you find the hidden Canada maps?)

How to buy art on the Crawl

2011-11-17T20:47:00.001-08:00

Seems easy enough, right? You see a painting you like,so you buy it and take it home. And it is easy for some people, but for othersbuying art is a bit of a mystery. So to demystify the process, here’s somepractical advice on how to buy the art you’ll treasure for years.

ArtMatch.com?

The hardest part is choosing the right artwork. The Eastside Culture Crawl has an amazing range of artwork, from realism to abstraction, invarious media, and priced from $10 to $10,000. Even though the Crawl is not juried, in general the artwork is of goodquality because the artist has a studio and a professional commitmentto their art. However, as in all large events there are different levels ofart, and you have to use your own judgement.

Choosing the right painting is a lot like falling inlove. Really. You walk into a studio and see this painting and Blam, love hitsyou. If you’re a little indecisive, like me, you may wander around the studioand examine every other painting, but your first love keeps calling to you. Inmy own studio experience, although people often like two or three paintings,it’s always the first one that they like that is the right one.

Again, I consulted with my friend Liz Malinka, who isa Crawl regular with an amazing art collection. What I really like about her art collection is its diversity, some ofthe paintings come from the best galleries in town, but others are from newartists she discovered on the Crawl. She says there is nothing as satisfying asthe joy of the artist who is selling their first painting. Liz also advises, “If you love a piece buy it!! If you have to thinktwice, it's probably not for you. I always ask myself, if I walked away from apiece and turned around and someone else bought it, would I be heartbroken? Ifthe answer is yes, then I buy it immediately!”

I couldwrite a whole blog post on why people buy art, but I’ll just say onething: if you really like a piece ofart, it will bring you a lot of pleasure. Nobody ever regretted buying aspecial artwork.

The Price is Right

Obviously, price is important. If you don’t buy art regularly,you may wonder if you’re getting value for your money. Fortunately, the Crawloffers you a perfect opportunity to shop around and compare prices. It shouldonly take a few studios to give you an idea of the price range of paintings youlike. Art by established artists will be more expensive than someone right out of art school. Art is generally priced by size, but occasionally artists price by theage of the work, with newer work being more expensive. Some artists even price based onhow pleased they are with the work!

If you really like a painting in the first studio youvisit, you can ask if the artist will put the painting on hold for you (some doand some don’t). Or there is something called the right of first refusal, so ifsomeone else wants the painting, the artist will call you first and you have todecide right away. However, the Crawl is a crucial time for artists to makesales, so please be respectful about placing holds.

Since the Crawl is an informal situation, you maywonder if you should bargain for a lower price. Here are the facts aboutpricing. If an artist is represented by galleries, the price will be firm,since if the artist undersells the gallery he or she runs the risk of gettingdropped. In fact, some galleries get a commission on paintings that are sold onthe Crawl since they promote the artist year round, so the artist is not even keepingthe full price. It may be possible tonegotiate a better deal if you pay cash. Most painters do not take creditcards, they usually take cheques or PayPal, so bring your chequebook. Most clayor textile artists do take credit cards, since they are used to working craftfairs.

If you are buying multiple pieces, you may be able toget a discount. If you return year after year to make purchases from the sameartist or refer your friends, you may get a discount. Also, if you can tell that a work is older,perhaps from a previous series, the artist may be more inclined to give you adiscount. You can certainly make apolite inquiry about discounts, but do keep in mind that most artists are notgetting rich once you add up the costs of studios, materials and time spent.

Instead of discounts, you may be able to negotiate otherbenefits: staggered payments, delivery of the work if you do not have a car, oreven help in deciding where to place the work in your home. Some artists may allow you to try a fewpaintings in your home, to see how they work before you purchase one.

Not just paintings

Most of this advice has been around painting, which isthe area I know best. However, I realize that there are other areas, like clay,sculpture, textiles and woodworking, which are slightly different.

My observation around clay is that it is already soreasonably priced and practical, that buying it is an easy decision. I havepottery from four different artists here in the Mergatroid Buildingand I delight in using it all, enjoying the handmade feel of a teacup or thebeauty of a glazed bowl. They make fabulous gifts as well, so I do a lot of my Christmasshopping right outside my studio door.

As for textiles and sculpture, I think they are similarto artwork. Take the time to ask aboutthe process, what raw materials are used, and all the stages in creating thework. Once you realize the effort that goes into creating the work, I thinkyou’ll find the prices are very reasonable.

Boomerang chair by Dexel Crafted

In my building we have a number of furniture makers.Buying furniture from them can be as easy as seeing something you like in theirstudio and then purchasing it, since much of the furniture you see on the Crawl isfor sale. Most woodworkers have books of the custom work they havecreated. I spoke to Curt Dexel of Dexel Craftedin my building and he tells me that much of his work is custom, which beginswith a discussion with the client about their needs. If you commission a pieceof furniture, you have the luxury of many options around materials, size anddetails. Just keep in mind that although theprices will be higher than Ikea, the quality is much higher.

Don't forget

It sounds funny, but it’s almost certain that onceyou’ve seen a lot of studios, you will get them confused. So take notes, takebusiness cards and take photos (ask first though!) so that if you want tofollow up afterwards, you can.

Most artists are happy to open their studios to youafter the Crawl, if you want to come back and see the artwork again or even ifyou missed their studio the first time around. However studios are a workingspace, so they are cleaned up ferociously before the Crawl but they willnormally be a lot messier and less gallery-like. And you will have to make anappointment first, since studios are only open for these three days. If thereis an artist you particularly liked, but you missed out on a favourite piece,try contacting them in a few months time when they will have new work. And besure to get on the mailing lists of the artists you like.

There is lots of talk around supporting the localeconomy, and buying directly from artists is an excellent way to do that. Asyou sit back in your hand-crafted wood chair, sipping coffee from aspecially-chosen clay mug and admiring your challenging new painting, you are atrue supporter of the arts!

How to Crawl

2011-11-13T22:04:00.000-08:00

The Eastside Culture Crawl has been a huge part of my life for the last seven years, with my studio welcoming hundreds of visitors in that time.

My neat studio, a rare occurrence

However there are still a lot of people who are Crawlvirgins, or who would like advice on getting more out of their Crawl experience, so here’s some advice. Of course, youmay wonder how someone who sits in her studio during the Crawl can even giveadvice on how to tour…so I have also gotten help from an expert. Liz Malinka has beendoing the Crawl for over ten years now, she is both an art lover and an artcollector. In fact, she and her husband, Frank, both love the Crawl so much that theybecame financial supporters of the event.

I would say that there are many ways to do the Crawl,but here are the two ends of the scale:

Organized

Liz, who is divinely organized, recommends doing yourhomework. She goes through the entire Crawl website to check out the artist’simages, then notes the artists whose work looks intriguing to her and writesdown the names and exact addresses of the ones she wants to visit. You'd be surprised how many people come in searching for an artist they saw on the website or mentioned in the newspaper, but they don't know exactly who or where that artist is. With over 300 artists, it's difficult to figure out who that might be.You may be interested in one particular area,like furniture makers, and the Crawl website allows you to search that. TheCrawl website also lets you search by building or by artists.

You can plan logistically if there are a number ofplaces you want to visit, starting at one end of the Crawl territory and movingto the other. You may want to get your hands on a Crawl brochure, with its handy map, which should be available at any artist's studio you visit. But with 65 different locations, you may want to prioritize the placesyou want to visit, choosing the area with the biggest cluster. I’m not sure ifanyone has ever visited all the artists during a Crawl, but it would definitelytake the whole weekend to do more than a studio fly-by. That said, many peopledo the Crawl over two or three days, because too many studios in too littletime can fry your brain.

Organic

The other end of the exploration scale is one method I’veseen many times in my own studio. Manyvisitors merely choose a place, like a large building or a little neighbourhoodwith a few studios and start exploring. They meander through every studio andstop to admire and chat with the artists. They delight in the workor the atmosphere, and have an easy-going attitude. It’s the Crawl as an experience, and you canexplore this way for as much or as little time as you have. I’ve actually hadvisitors who started on the Crawl about an hour before it ended, but they getan hour of Culture Crawl in anyway. When you explore organically, I think you’remore likely to find things that surprise and possibly educate you in some way.

And unfortunately for the organized Crawlers, many artists are so disorganized that they won't appear on the website or map listing, they simply pop up and wait to be discovered by accident. The Crawl is full of lovely surprises.

Lisa Ochowycz's studio

General tips for the Crawl

Liz has some specific advice on what to wear to the Crawl: “Dress for the event, no high heels since you'll be climbing a lot of stairs and covering a lot of ground. I find that scarves are a must (since 1000 Parker can be cold) and they are a quick removal item when you do warm up!” My own observation is that there are a lot of stylish people who do the Crawl, and I enjoy the fashion show through my studio. People who like art, like aesthetics of all kinds.

Parking can also be an issue at busy times, so getting there early helps. Most areas of the Crawl are either industrial or residential, and neither are loaded with parking. Although I don’t know any secret parking spots, I would caution you to carefully read all the signs. My former studio was across from a huge No Parking sign on a fence which was ignored every year, since people assumed they were closed on weekends. When the trucks arrived at the lot, they had no choice but to call the tow truck. Lots of people do bike to the Crawl, and if you buy something most artists will hold it for you to pick up later. On sunny days the streets around the Crawl are packed with pedestrians, like a stylish country village.

What about those crowds? Here’s the scoop on the differenttimes to Crawl. The Crawl is open from 5 to 10pm on Friday, and Saturday and Sunday from 11 to 6. Friday nights have aparty atmosphere, in my building the artists are more dressed up and servefood, not dinner of course, but nibbles. I think most studios have food onFriday. Serious art buyers,like Liz, will be out on Friday in order to see the work first and get firstdibs. More families come out on Saturday and Sunday, after soccer or music lessons, and the Crawl is a great family experience.Kids love to explore, and artists are usually pleased to talk to buddingartistes. For younger kids, I would recommend keeping it short since it can betiring to trudge through large warehouse spaces or through rain-soakedneighbourhoods. You can always do more the next year. Teenagers who love art can probably out-Crawl their parents.

If you don’t like crowds, I would recommend checkingout some smaller buildings or individual studios. If it rains hard, most peopleprefer to stay dry by staying inside and exploring bigger buildingslike 1000 Parker or The Mergatroid (my building), so they can be crowded. If itsnows, I can guarantee there will be no crowd at all! One more insiders tip, I’ve often found that late Sunday afternoon is the slowest time on the Crawl, so if you go between 3:00 and 6:00pm on Sunday, you may have studios all to yourself.

Michelle Sirois-Silver in her studio

Here's some lovely advice from Liz, “Lastly, have fun, talk to theartists! It will add to the whole experience if you are able to connect withthem and get to know a little bit about them. Who knows, perhaps friendshipswill develop, it's happened to me many times! “

Very true!Enjoy the Crawl and stay tuned for the next blog topic, How to buy art at theCrawl.

Michelle Sirois-Silver's studio

2011-11-08T10:00:00.000-08:00

An organized rainbow!

When I was a child, I used to go to the home of a graphic designer who had her studio in the basement. I loved to wander downstairs and look at her papers, her pristine white drawing table and best of all her markers, perfectly lined up in the full rainbow of colours. Seeing ALL the colours in perfect order gives me an enormous thrill to this day. And that is why I love going into the studio of textile artist, Michelle Sirois-Silver.

These fabric stacks are my favourite things in her studio,
the textile equivalent of a paintbox.

I first met Michelle when she moved into the shared studio across the hall from my studio, and then followed her into her studio in the basement of her home, and then I helped her link up with her current studio. I've been wanting to take photographs of Michelle's studio ever since I saw her first studio, and now with the Culture Crawl on the horizon, I can feature this lovely spot and anyone can visit it as well.

So here are some photos of Michelle's studio, as well as her answers to my little studio Q & A.

Michelle, hard at work.

What is your favourite part of the studio?
My favorite part of the studio is where ever I am at the moment I am creating something.

The old and the new.

Can you tell me about your studio routine?
I'm in the studio everyday 10-6pm. I like to begin the day by organizing and putting away any new items and materials that I have brought with me that morning. I set up my computer, cup of coffee in hand and begin work. Generally, I reserve activities like magazine and grant writing, marketing, and updating my website for home. I may pick up my rug hooking where I left off the following day, do some fabric dyeing, or create samples for a new work. I take photographs of my work in different stages and I'll use these images as a record of the process or for promotional purposes. While I'm working I listen to CBC radio, music or audio books. I try to schedule studio visits for the afternoon. The day concludes with about fifteen minutes of clean up which includes a daily vacuum to keep the dust and fabric pieces under control.

A little sampler which I found quite beautiful.

What is one thing that really inspires your creativity?

There are three things that inspire my creativity: I love narrative and the art of story telling and I try to bring this sensibility to my practice. Visually I'm drawn to images that inspire a sense of intimacy. When I'm looking at something I shut out everything else around it and view that one thing in utter isolation. When I do this the image alters its form and it becomes a range of colour, a dynamic value contrast, or a pattern. Its new potential is inspiring. And talking with fellow artists about their work, inspirations, and processes.

Here is textile piece of Michelle's that I own and love. You can see more of her work at:

http://www.michellesirois-silver.com/

And if you would like to visit Michelle's gorgeous studio in person, come and visit her on the Eastside Culture Crawl on November 18, 19 and 20, 2011.

http://www.eastsideculturecrawl.com/artists/michellesiroissilver

This post is the kick off to a series of posts I will be writing on the Crawl, as we head up to the big event.

A dose of cute

2011-11-02T20:45:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I need a dose of cute. Whether it is watching Maruvideos on YouTube or cruising a toy store , I crave a dip into the pool of allthat is sweet and colourful. This pastweekend in Seattle,I was able to satisfy my cuteness cravings at Kinokuniya Books. This Japanesebookstore sells Paumes books, which are books made in

Japan

but featuring bright andcreative homes, studios and stores around the world.

So far I have two of the books, but when I browse the website I long formore and more. The rooms are energetic and inspiring, filled with colour, artsupplies, beautiful vignettes and adorable cats and dogs. Each feature is like visiting the home of some wonderful, creative friend whose energy and ingenuity make you feel energized. The text is inJapanese, but since the images are so inspiring, I don’t think it matters. Andthe website has a mini gallery section as well.

I don’t think anyone can read these without feeling like creatingsomething, whether it is a beautiful meal, a tabletop display or…art.

Colour me inspired

2011-10-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

One thing that always draws my eye is bright colour. So when I saw this photograph on the front of the Arts section of my Sunday New York Times, I started reading the article immediately. It turned out to be a review by the wonderful arts writer, Michael Kimmelman, about a new exhibition on how design is helping to improve the lives of the impoverished around the globe. I recommend the article for its inspiring take on how simple design can make huge changes, and in this case how whole neighbourhoods can be uplifted. In a life where too often we wrestle with our ridiculous "first world problems", it's good to be reminded of what's really important in life.

I think about colour constantly and in my own home I have seen that bright colour can lift people's moods. But can colour really help the poor? The photograph above is the Santa Marta neighbourhood of Rio de Janerio, Brazil, and the project has its own web page. Originally two Dutch artists, Haas & Hahn, began with wall murals in depressed neighbourhoods and then their vision extended to painting a whole block with colour, which is the Santa Marta square you see above. And now they have a new project, painting an entire favela, a Brazilian shanty town, towards which they are working on fundraising.

So how does this painting benefit the poor? Well, first off, locals were trained and paid to do the painting, so they got a pay cheque and acquired a skill. Secondly the neighbourhood has become a tourist attraction, with the traffic and interest that come from that. And finally, I think that having a beautiful monument must be adding to the self-esteem of those who live in the neighbourhood. Art and beauty feed the soul.

A Vik Muniz painting in progress

This project reminds me of an inspiring film about a project by the artist, Vik Muniz. In this film, Waste Land, Muniz collaborates with a small impoverished community around a huge garbage dump in his native Brazil. We get to see the development of amazing art as well as the blossoming of the artistic souls of the catadores, or garbage pickers. As I watched this film with my teen-aged son, we both were moved to tears, or at least sniffling in his case.

In my day-to-day practice, I like to think that I make art that inspires, but it's good to be reminded that there are artists who are taking their practice to inspiring heights by becoming agents of change. We can all aspire to do more with art.

Unwelcome in the gallery

2011-10-21T10:00:00.000-07:00

Art gallery volunteer at work.

I have complained before about the lack of decent docents in art galleries. (I am speaking about regional galleries, which are funded by municipal governments, and not commercial galleries.) I understand that many galleries use volunteers and there is not enough funding to pay fulltime staff, but I wonder if this is not a chicken and egg situation. There is nobody in an art gallery/museum because people do not feel welcome there. And since attendance is low, there is no expanding the gallery’s programs.

Recently I went with a friend to a regional gallery, which showcases well-known artists. The only interaction we had with the woman working there was when she hissed at us not to touch the painting. It was as if she was watching us and waiting to spring into action as soon as we neared the artwork. For the record, neither I nor anyone I have been with has ever touched a painting, but being involved in the arts sometimes we like to get quite close to determine the materials or process. In this same gallery, I have been told not to touch a display table, because it was fragile, this table had a glass case enclosing some sketchbooks and small paintings, and to examine the materials you almost had to lean on it. Would it not be better to get durable display cases? And would it surprise you to know that whenever I go there, I’m the only one in the gallery?

On the other hand, in large art galleries or museums I’ve had some delightful experiences with security guards. At the Vancouver Art Gallery, one security guard was so delighted with Jim Campbell’s LED “paintings” that he kept encouraging visitors to look at it from his favourite viewpoint. At the Musée d'art Contemporain in Montréal, I’ve had long chats with guards who were both friendly and happy to be asked questions about the art or artists. I assume that the person who spends hours in the gallery has more knowledge than I do, and seek out that knowledge.

I consider this difference in attitude is really an attitude about art. Some people clearly side with the artist or artwork and consider themselves as guards who protect the artwork at all costs. However they never consider that their negativism might alienate people from entering or returning to the gallery. Most galleries are daunting, with their hushed atmospheres, white walls, high culture and mysterious artworks. And they are scary enough without adding Dobermans disguised as matrons of the arts.

As an artist I would rather have people touch my art than walk by it. I prefer engagement to indifference, and touching to ignoring. I have the advantage of working in resin, but I can’t believe that one thumbprint is going to cause a painting to disintegrate. Like the many friendly guards I have met, I believe that art is for the people and the more people in the gallery the better. We understand that displaying the art in pristine surroundings is not the aim, the aim is to get the most people into the gallery, interacting with the artwork. And the future of the gallery depends on it.

Finding Landon MacKenzie

2011-10-18T13:12:00.000-07:00

From the moment I was wowed by my first Landon Mackenzie paintings at the Vancouver Art Gallery many years ago, I have been following her trail. Like the maps she uses as an element in her work, I’ve been travelling across Canada, and finding her large scale paintings in different museums. I loved the juxtaposition of her dark and sparkly work with a dark and tropical Peter Doig painting at the National Gallery in Ottawa. I was drawn to a huge and complex painting in the upper foyer of the Musée d’art contemporain in Montréal which turned out to be a Landon Mackenzie.

And my stalking has not been limited to art alone: I’ve seen Mackenzie in a film on the difficulty of being a woman artist in Canada; I’ve heard her speak at Emily Carr; I’ve attended her open studio; and the ultimate rendezvous, I signed up to have Mackenzie be one of the three instructors who critiqued my paintings after my third year at art school. She was the only one who spoke during the short session, and she saw little in my painting to recommend it, which sent me into a downward spiral where I didn’t paint for three months.

Fortunately I have not held this final meeting against her and I have persevered, both in my painting and in my pursuit of seeing Landon Mackenzie’s work. She is currently on display at the Richmond Art Gallery, and it’s a lovely venue with enough room to really highlight her work. Her paintings are over 10 feet long and very complex, so they require a lot of space around them to appreciate the work. Currently Mackenzie is working with ideas of the brain and neural pathways, which are traced in her new paintings.

"Circle of Willis" by Landon Mackenzie is at Richmond Art Gallery.

My two favourites in the show are “Vancouver as Centre of the World” and “Circle of Willis”, both have the deeply complex lines and colours which first drew me to her paintings. In addition, she uses light or light colours masterfully, creating both dimension and movement. The Vancouver painting combines mapping and map symbols in an ancient map oval with the contrasting stripes of a circus tent, and the juxtaposition is intriguing. The term, “Circle of Willis”, refers to a pattern of arteries in the brain, and the painting is as creative as the brain itself, swooping through images and connections to create a work so complex I could stand in front of it for hours.

The show runs until the end of October so there is still time for those in the Vancouver area to see it if they have not already. I also enjoyed the education room showing a video of Mackenzie painting on location in Saskatchewan and a small library of books and magazines which feature her work. If you live farther afield, I would suggest you check out Mackenzie’s website at http://www.landonmackenzie.com

Or like me, you can just wander across Canada and discover her paintings in different museums, because nothing compares with seeing work in person.

Miniature worlds

2011-07-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

I have always loved dollhouses. Well, not dolls, just their houses; I made one out of an orange crate and populated it with stuffed mice in dresses. Possibly this is part of my Japanese DNA, since they were the first to miniaturize radios and pretty much everything else.

Imagine my great thrill to find that miniatures are actually an art form, as evidenced by the work of Bill Burns. I went to see his show, Safety Gear for Small Animals, and it was a fascinating combination of science, art and humour. Then I actually got to study with Bill, when he taught one semester at Emily Carr. I learnt that miniature artworks gave artists an opportunity to create and manipulate their own new worlds or imagined environments.

For my current show at the Britannia Art Gallery, I had the chance to make some miniature sculptures. The show is called The Process of Painting, and Lisa Ochowycz and I documented our painting stages in order to give the viewer a better idea of what goes into the creation of a painting. I riffed on this idea for the sculptures in a more humourous way, playing with scale and making painting a more Herculean task.

The sculptures are three-sided.

The normal gallery-side view

The artist-side, hard at work on stripes of hardened paint from my paintbox.

How do those polka dots get painted?

They come from the paint!

A prairie landscape?

No, it's just Lisa's used paintbrush.

Paper scraps become...

...abstract paintings

Those stripes...

...come from a tube!

Martin Creed doesn't like you very much

2011-07-10T15:17:00.000-07:00

I have a great love for the Rennie Museum, I admire its laser focus: a gorgeous architectural space, the spotlight on a single artist, small guided tours. So far out of the two shows I’ve seen, I’ve fallen in love with the work of Richard Jackson, and been intellectually intrigued but emotionally distanced by the Mona Hatoum works. Naturally I was interested to attend the Martin Creed show. I already knew his illuminated text piece on the roof garden of the museum: EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT, and l liked it very much.

The show begins wonderfully. You have to swim through a pool of gigantic pink balloons, which is fun and childish and exciting. If you never got to experience a ballroom as a child, this may be as close as you get. You emerge at the end where the tour guide beckons nervously, pushing balloons back while opening the door. Another delight is watching people emerge from the balloon room, their coiffed hair spiked with static and a look of pleasure or disgust on their faces.

Unfortunately for me, the great pleasures ended right there. Although I don’t dislike conceptual art, I do dislike art that needs to be explained to be properly appreciated. Instead I prefer conceptual art that causes you to ask questions or seek more information if it is not immediately understandable. This exhibition is explanations followed by passive observation. Strong threads run through Creed’s art, the most prominent being an idea of binaries or oppositions. The balloon room is calculated to be half the mass of the room’s volume. The next piece features gold and silver salt and pepper shakers, which are supposed to be art pieces, left in pubs and other places which apparently elucidates the idea of what art is. A film showing the shakers being used in a pub (to salt and pepper food, surprisingly enough!) features an orchestral soundtrack, which the docent tried to talk over as he introduced the museum, the show, and the artist. Sadly, at my age (and I was one of the younger people in my boomer tour group) I have trouble hearing over loud noises, so I found it tough to concentrate on the explanations.

Inadvertent distractions are what plagues the whole show for me. I can’t focus on the wall art since runners are doing laps of the gallery at the same time, or because the loud noises of many metronomes or piano lids crashing are bothering me. I feel uncomfortable that people, like the anonymous runners and a girl whose only job is to rewind metronomes, are scattered around the gallery like robots who neither interact with me nor feel the credit of being appreciated as art. Also being used are the people throwing up on film to explore Creed’s ideas about painting. Besides some interesting vegetable prints and marker paintings, Creed also makes the kind of art that people who hate modern art love to reference: a crumpled piece of paper you can buy for only £165. By the end, I felt that much of the show was a huge practical joke staged by an artist who didn’t like people very much. Instead of exploring the gallery afterwards as I usually do, I left immediately.

Nardwuar and Martin Creed enjoying themselves greatly in coordinating outfits ( from Nardwuar.com)

Still, in order to write this review, I felt I needed to research Creed a little more. I found to my delight he did an audio interview with Nardwuar the Human Serviette, a local musician and humourous character. This was the perfect meeting, since Nardwuar brings both naïveté and great research to his work. If Creed was a phony, Nardwuar would ferret that out. In fact, Creed turned out to be an extremely pleasant man with a lilting Scottish accent, who lacked any pretention but also seemed quite at a loss to explain any of his artwork. It was as if the art dropped from the sky and landed in his studio. (They talked more easily about Creed’s music and his band, and I am happy to report that unlike Michael Ignatieff, Creed does know that the correct signoff to any Nardwuar interview is “doot-doot!”) This interview got me thinking about what might be wrong with the Creed show at the Rennie.

I wrote earlier that the quality of the docents was significantly better at the Richard Jackson show than at the Mona Hatoum show, and I speculated that this was because Jackson had spent so much time installing his work at the gallery. Along with the time, he had generously shared his ideas about art and producing art. Hearing Creed be so modest or even disingenuous about his art made me realize that once again, the viewer suffers because the docents are handcuffed. I think that rather than art school interns who are overly impressed by the Emperor’s new artist, perhaps maybe the tour could become a performance with a different kind of docent: a mathematician to explain the binary progressions, a stand up comedian to riff on the humourous aspects, or a musician to link the music and art. Or if Creed does not want to explain the art at all, maybe it would be better to have the viewer walk through and explore and then partake in a docent-led discussion at the end.

One happy aside to the show, I found out that the fantastic Richard Jackson wall paintings had not been destroyed but instead a false wall was built in front of them. I hope to see them again sometime.

The Secret Garden

2011-06-25T09:19:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to dinner with two girlfriends at a Chinese restaurant in East Van. Afterwards, since it was still sunny and nice out, we went for a walk around the neighbourhood. The neighbourhood we were in is a slightly sketchy combination of businesses and down-at-the-heels houses, but fine in the daytime. We wandered past the security-bar clad windows and cracking pavement when our attention was drawn by a garden in progress.

The yard of former mechanic shop was being transformed with new rich soil and a variety of tropical plants. A water feature was being dug in, and once the plants fill out and blossom, the garden will be very beautiful. We peeked inside the open garage door to see who was performing this botanical miracle and saw a man talking on his cell. I recognized him immediately as a well-known Vancouver artist. Inside the shop were canvases pinned to wall and a variety of intriguing paintings in various stages of completion. Obviously the garden reno required a lot of hard physical labour, and I wondered what was motivating the artist. A desire to create a tropical paradise to transport him or inspire his art? A hope to make the neighbourhood more beautiful?

One of the plants in the new garden is appropriately called Black Magic

Although I am notorious for envisioning artist studios in every empty building I see (Old schools! Deserted warehouses! Garden sheds!) I was especially happy to see this conversion of garage to studio. This plain brick building, transformed into a place of creativity and energy was inspiring. Like the budding garden outside, an artist plants the seeds of his imagination and they can transform the neighbourhood.

Obviously you don’t have to be an artist to plant a lovely garden, repaint a front door or just pick up some garbage off the street. Everything we do to make public spaces more beautiful and interesting can be appreciated by all.

The Graduate

2011-06-18T19:00:00.000-07:00

Although I paint abstract work, I make the occasional foray into representation. Usually there is some event, like an art show for children in which I am participating. And of course at an earlier stage of my practice, I made only representational work.

A series of dresses from 2004.

I used to do a lot of tiny dress paintings on 3" x 5" pieces of wood. There is something about the swish of fifties dresses which has always appealed to me. Add in the bright colours I love to use, and I found myself able to paint tiny dresses for hours. It's something fun and stress-less. I've sold a lot of these dresses to young girls, and their moms, and toyed with the idea of putting them on etsy.

Recently I attended the grad banquet for my son's high school. (As an aside, I am not a creeper mom, in Vancouver attending your child's grad is completely normal and required. Personally I would rather have not attended than had my parents at my prom, but those were more carefree times.) The girls at the banquet looked lovely. Bright vibrant colours are in style this spring and they looked like a flock of tropical birds in lovely plumage. I felt inspired to paint the whole kaleidoscope.

Luckily this inspiration carried through for a grad gift for my son's girlfriend. Emma is a wonderful girl: intelligent, beautiful and confident. When Sam first started going out with her, we teased him about how lucky he was and wondering what she saw in him! Fortunately for me, he never reads my blog, or I would be in real trouble right now. Anyway back to the art, I decided that I'd like to do a little painting for Emma, of the gorgeous red dress she wore to the banquet. Thanks to Facebook, I snagged a good photo and went to work. Using a 5" x 7" board, I began with a subtly patterned tissue over multiple layers of silver and pearl paint. Then I did a complementary green underpainting and then a final painting with reds, oranges, and pinks. I poured resin on the final product and then bought the perfect silver frame. And here it is:

"Emma" 2011

Will she like it? Stay tuned, their ceremony is tonight and the dress is wrapped and ready to go.

The Lows

2011-06-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

Since I’ve already written about the highs of being an artist, I thought it only fair that I should write about the lows as well. Recently a couple of incidents brought me down to a new low.

First off, I finished all the calculations for my tax return. Yes, I do realize that if I was on top of my income and expenses on a monthly basis, the final tally would not be a shock. However, that would require a personality operation to remove the procrastination gene, a nice idea but highly unlikely.

For the seventh consecutive year, my gross sales of artwork have risen (hooray!), but at the same time, my expenses have been steadily rising as well. Studio rental, photography, website management, promotion, gallery commissions and raw material costs were all higher this year. The final calculation showed that I was still making a profit, but if you divide that profit by the hours I spend in the studio…let’s just say that sweatshop workers might turn their nose up at my hourly wage. So that was a painful realization that had me feeling discouraged.

Then the second blow. I received an email from one of my galleries telling me that due to the economy, they would be returning all my paintings and severing the relationship. This took me completely by surprise since in the past ten months they had sold five paintings, which I thought was pretty good. But I have no idea what gallery standards are.

This dismissal felt to me a lot like when someone breaks up with you. Immediately I felt stunned and upset, that punched-in-the-gut feeling. After the initial shock, the self-doubt takes over. I started thinking about all the ways I should have managed the relationship better, with more frequent contact and communication. And ironically, I had just ordered new panels, since I was planning to create some new artworks and offer to exchange them for the old ones that my galleries had in inventory. When I went to pick up the order I felt depressed instead of the anticipation I usually feel when I get fresh new panels. Here I was spending so much money on panels and what would I do with them?

This depressed state has lasted for a while. The worst part is that it limits my creativity. When I’m low, I can't do the normal things that inspire me. Seeing art shows or even chatting with artist friends makes me feel jealousy at the successes of other artists, which in turn makes me feel petty. Usually painting is a great solace for me, but when I'm down I begin to second-guess myself in the studio, wondering about my worth as a painter. Then creating satisfying new work becomes difficult. It’s a horrible circle of negativity.

Okay, it's not depressing art, but since I usually do happy, that's all I've got.

My only answer to the lows is to keep going to the studio. I worry about creating new work in a negative frame of mind, so that limits me. What I can do is to keep putting in the time and working. Some months ago, I had gotten feedback from another gallery that a client did not like the sides of my painting. Resin dripping is pretty unavoidable, and I feel it shows the process of the work in an interesting way. But apparently not everyone agrees, so spent several days sanding and refinishing the sides of some finished paintings. Other days were spent cleaning the studio, organizing my paper supplies and trashing unused materials.

Eventually, I know that feeling sad and doing mindless work will clear the way for some brave new art.

The Cats of Mirikitani

2011-03-01T18:53:00.000-08:00

On the weekend, I went to the National Japanese Canadian Museum to see a double feature: the film, The Cats of Mirikitani, and a display of the paintings featured in the film.

This movie is about an elderly man, Jimmy Mirikitani, living on the streets of New York who makes his meager living as an artist. He does different colour drawings, many of them about cats. A film maker living in the neighbourhood meets him and befriends him and begins filming his artmaking. Then a few months after they first meet, the Twin Towers are attacked, and a hazardous smoke fills the neighbourhood. Out of concern, the filmmaker, Linda Hattendorf, invites Jimmy to take shelter in her apartment. The film then traces the growing friendship between the two and unravels the life that brought Jimmy to the street.

Hattendorf makes several interesting points with her film. The main point seems to be about the rich histories of those we may walk right past on the street, and how their lives can be rehabilitated. In addition, she makes the important connection between the prejudice following September 11th, and the racism of the internment camps, just as Jimmy sketches the parallels between both the bombing of Hiroshima and the burning of the Twin Towers.

The show of paintings was organized around the film, and seems to show many of the paintings he created on camera. The work is bright and energetic and encompasses everything from political landscapes to cats. What is really interesting is how Jimmy Mirikitani worked on any materials he had handy: cardboard, thin paper, collaged scraps. Everything feeds into his art.

But what struck me most was the spirit that helped Jimmy live through all his hardships was the belief that he was an artist, a great artist and that was his path. He refused to join the Japanese navy, he tried to get a reprieve from the internment camps, he made a living on the street, all because he was an artist. The creativity and the creation of art seemed to keep him alive both in body and spirit through many trials. Many artists today look for confirmation through sales, gallery representations, show reviews and peer admiration. Clearly, being an artist is what we can decide ourselves. I am an artist because I make art. The continuous making of art is what distinguishes the true artistic souls.

The show continues all during March and you can see the film as well on Saturday, March 26th at 2pm. If you’re not in Vancouver, I would urge you to see the DVD, it’s both interesting and inspiring.

All that glitters

2011-01-23T20:54:00.000-08:00

Fire Snake, 36" x 36", mixed media including glitter!

I recently completed two paintings with a fair amount of glitter in them. They look amazing, at least to an artist who clearly believes that more is better. The only problem was the amount of glitter that lingered around the studio afterwards. I swept, vacuumed, brushed and swept again, but glitter was still appearing randomly in all the other paintings I was creating at the same time. Unless I can develop some sort of glitter containment booth to do my work in, these two lovely pieces may be the last paintings with glitter I create.

When my daughter was young, she had a friend who was very serious, and his mother told me he hated glitter since he could never get it off his hands. At the time I was an artsy mom into crafts and self-expression and not very sympathetic to his issues, but now I feel for him. The appearance of glitter contamination on my cats at home was the last straw. I also believe that I've inhaled a lot of glitter, which may provide exciting x-rays at some point in the future if glitter is metallic.

In addition, I had one instructor at art school who specifically said to the class, I don't care what mixed media you use, except no glitter. Who wouldn't immediately want to go out and use glitter right away? It's shiny! Filled with fabulousity!

"building a dream", 40" x 40", mixed media with fabulous glitter

I still have some extra glitter in the studio, so that can only lead to some new ideas. And whatever problems glitter may have caused, it still looks fabulous in the finished painting, so all the hassle may be worthwhile. Plus I've put resin on top of the glitter, so unlike my cats these paintings will never shed.

The colour for 2011

2011-01-16T22:01:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I longed for the really big box of crayons. I think it had 32 crayons and a little sharpener in the side. Now there's a box of 96 different colours, I think my little brain might have overloaded with that many colours. However, like the Easy Bake Oven I also wanted, this desire was never fulfilled and it has resulted in my constant craving for more and more art supplies. I can only justify this desire by using everything in my work, and so I try very hard to incorporate new materials all the time.

One thing you will never find me using is muddy colours, colours that combine complementary elements, for example a red with some green in it. I love the pure tones, the pure pigment colours and obviously, too bright is never a problem for me. Right now I am experimenting with transparent coloured resin, and I love the bright electric hues I can achieve, like the pink in Spiral Joy (below).

And speaking of pink, Pantone has come out with its colour for the year. This is a company that began producing colour catalogues which I remember using them in my ad agency days, but has now gone on to market various colour products like coffee mugs and shopping bags, and also markets the intellectual idea of colour and colour trends.

In any case, Pantone chooses a new colour each year, and predicts that the colour will be used in fashion, home decor and new products. The colour for 2011 is pink, specifically a peachy pink they call Honeysuckle.

And this makes me happy, because I love pink. Really, if a painting is missing something, I just add pink and that makes it perfect. Think pink!

I like talking about art

2011-01-07T19:15:00.000-08:00

Julia Clark, from her blog. In real life she looks less surprised!

Two days ago, Julia Clark came into my studio for a chat about my art and process. She is an art educator and an art lover, and she does her part for the art community by promoting artists on her blog. This month, Julia is featuring me as her artist of the month on her blog, The Fictional Me.

I really enjoyed the chance to talk to Julia about art, she's full of enthusiasm and excitement about art. Whenever I talk about my art, I get more ideas. Julia told me this amazing story about how she rescued these huge maps from the elementary school she was working at, and how she has an idea for a large collaborative project in the future. It would be a chance for different artists to work together and also to raise money for charity. I got very excited about the idea of working on maps, since I use maps in my regular art practice. If Julia gets this project organized, she said she'd love to include me, hooray!

And back to January's topic, as Julia went around the studio, she kept looking at the all the bright colours of my work and saying, "This work just makes me happy!". And that made me very happy as well!

January is happiness month

2011-01-06T20:56:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

At a time when I am wishing all my friends happiness, I thought that I would like to spread a little happiness on the blog as well. So all my January posts are going to be about happiness.

In late December I went to see an exhibition of Takashi Iwasaki paintings at the Elliot Louis Gallery. The paintings were actually embroideries on linens, so they are more than just paintings. Several years ago, I met Takashi at his studio when I was in Winnipeg. I bought a drawing from him.

My Takashi Iwasaki drawing!

At the time he had some embroideries as well, but the new work looks much more complex and elaborate. In fact, the needlework is so good that we spent time staring at the works and wondering how they were done, especially the plaid sections!

In his artist statement for the show, Takashi wrote:
Life is too short to take gravely all the time. I want to delight in what I can when I can. Having this as my essential philosophy, my goal of art making is to create a positive and playful atmosphere, and generate warm feelings of intimacy and substance through my work.

The art is full of vibrant energy and oddly engaging titles. I would defy anyone to see these works and not come away smiling.

P.S.
I do intend to update the blog more frequently, but then I get busy in the studio and poof…two months have gone by without a new post. So my resolution for 2011 will be write shorter posts more often and to write about different aspects of art and what is inspiring my art. And with my new camera, I’ll take more photos as well so that I can occasionally let a picture take the place of a thousand words.

How much do your paintings sell for?

2010-10-05T16:21:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, I had a little open studio since a few people were interested in stopping by and seeing the seven paintings I had just finished. It was pretty low key, but one fun part was that Marta Robertson-Smyth, who teaches classes to kids in my building, asked if she could drop by with two of her classes. She was teaching a class on abstraction and composition, so she thought that my work would compliment that lesson. I love a chance to turn the studio into a gallery.

The teens were shyly appreciative and the younger kids were enthusiastic and wanted to explore every corner of the studio. The number one question kids ask me is: How much do your paintings sell for? And when I tell them, the response is always a big gasp. I'm not sure whether this is because the number is so large in comparison to the average allowance or that they can't believe anyone would pay that price. Marta was kind enough to point out that my prices are very reasonable. Yet I do wonder why the finances of art are so fascinating to kids. Is it because they love to make art but have been told that there's no money in the profession? As a former fast-tracking MBA, I know that there is no accounting system in the world that could make my art practice look like a big success, yet I know I make more money than many artists and enough to continue my work without undue worry. But getting the chance to do work that is creative, absorbing and soul-satisfying is priceless.

So here's the new work that the kids loved. How to put a value on art? If you fall in love with a painting, it will give you pleasure for ever. Seems like a good investment.

Beautiful Wall

Sometimes, I complete a painting and I fall completely in love with it. This painting is currently hanging in my hall, where I can see it when I walk into the house. When I tore back the layers, they miraculously created a perfect palette with the painting on top, a lovely palette of vibrating pastels which reminded me of the wallpaper of an old cottage, torn back to reveal each owner's redecoration.

Test Patterns

I use tissue paper in my paintings and some of it is tissue I recycle from purchases, since it has an interesting pattern on it. I was very excited to get this striped paper from Club Monaco, since stripes add a certain stability to my random composition. But once I resined this work, the stripes seem almost to vibrate and the painting is now full of movement. I love the high contrast of the black and colour here.

Cat's Eye

This painting has evolved a lot in the resining process, I added red, yellow and orange resin which created warmth and energy. And the leopard print pattern definitely adds an animal element that contrasts to the line and circle composition.

Spiral Joy

Another painting which is making me smile. I found the expensive spiral handmade paper in Toronto and now I want to go back and get more. The spiral is the perfect pattern to add contrast to the open spaces in the artwork. Love it, this the kind of painting I'd like to redecorate my house around. Oh wait, was that the sound of my husband panicking? Really darling, who wouldn't want to live in a neon pink and lime green paradise?

Squid Propulsion

My art practice is dividing into two parts these days: the Excavation series where I paint multi-layered works, like the first three in this blog post; and the Transparency series where I use the complicated remnants from the Excavation series to create open, transparent works like these ones. The use of coloured resins lets me achieve some lovely intense yet see-through colour.

Spiral Jet

Sometimes I agonize over titles. Other times I shamelessly plunder my art history knowledge to dredge up something appropriate. Marta, who was extremely interested in brushstrokes, complimented the loose strokes and compositional movement in this work. I was highly flattered to hear my work discussed as if it were in a museum.

Patrick's Favourite

I like asking people which painting is their favourite and why. My husband always gets a panicked look on his face, the same look that accompanies the question, "Do you notice anything new about me?" But this time, he pointed out this painting and said, "I just like it."

Really what more needs to be said?

Fall colours

2010-09-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Today is the first official day of fall and a good day to get back into blogging. After a summer of travel, some relaxation and not enough time in the studio, I am ready to get back to painting daily and blogging regularly. Also my Canon Elph died after seven years of hard work so I have a new camera, which is both hot pink and much smaller than my previous camera, so I can carry it everywhere and I hope to capture a lot more of the things I see that inspire my art.

This is my new camera, which the opinionated saleslady did not even want to show me, assuring me that the colour was an awful one that nobody liked. Perhaps I should have gotten a discount? It’s surprising how much pleasure I get from objects in bright colours. Well, perhaps not surprising if you look at my art. One of the banes of my art school existence was the insistence by instructors and other students that I was using too much colour. Yet when I painted, using pure colour and juxtaposing the colours energized the artwork for me. And I noticed that the other students frequently aped the drab colour schemes of their peers, which is neither creative nor original. My paintings are not for everyone, but certain special people love them a lot. Thank heavens for those people!

Right now I am completing three paintings in the studio, and I am really excited about this one. My process of tearing the work means that I have no idea what the painting will look like until it’s completed, but when I began tearing these three paintings I was delighted. I will post all three when I’m done, but here is the one which I am most excited about right now.

The revealed layers have an incredible harmony of palette, which was completely unconscious. I love revealing the painting underneath and excavating everything that went before. It will be interesting to see how it looks once the resin is applied and the colour comes up even brighter. Just looking at this painting in the studio is giving me great pleasure, and I can hardly wait to finish it tomorrow. Stay tuned for the final product.

The colourful world of Richard Jackson

2010-06-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

Since the field of art is so vast, I try to focus on the studio and studio practices. However recently I went to an exhibition that gave the idea of studio practice a whole new dimension.

Richard Jackson is an American painter who originally trained as an engineer and is very interested in the process of painting and the temporary nature of the work. His work is currently on exhibit at the Rennie Collection, which is Vancouver's first important private art museum. Bob Rennie is an art collector who decided to construct his own gallery to exhibit his collection of thought-provoking art. During our tour we ran into Bob Rennie, who was enthusiastic and boyishly charming about his museum, and he told us that he hopes to have it open on Saturdays soon for those who can’t make the weekday tours.

But back to Richard Jackson, who has become one of my new favourite artists. He is clearly an artist who shuns the artifice and preciousness around modern art to produce artwork that gives a definite middle finger to art establishment.

Jackson's work usually begins as a large sketch which is a cross between an architectural drawing and miniature painting. The sketches themselves displayed here are really interesting, they illustrate approximately what the finished project will look like. Bob Rennie went to Jackson's studio, chose a sketch and then Jackson came to the museum to create the work on site. He turns the gallery into his studio.

Here the painting featured in the first floor of the gallery. Jackson loads a canvas with acrylic paint, screws it to the wall with a hinge device and then twirls it like a giant Spin Art toy. He then waits for it to dry and adds another layer on top, a process that takes weeks.

Early in my marriage, I suggested to my husband, Patrick, that we purchase a piece of art from one of his avant garde friends, let’s call him Mr. X. Patrick declared, “It’s not like a painting you could hang on the wall, Mr. X would probably come and live in our basement for a month as a project.” Less than intrigued, I gave up on that idea but I can see that Jackson is a similar type. Once he undertakes a project, he comes to the gallery and stays for weeks, building new floors, gradually adding layers of paint to canvases, installing existing works. According to our docent, Jackson is very interested in doing most of the work himself in response to the manufactured work of the American minimalists.

And speaking of docents, in an earlier post I complained about the quality of the docents at this same museum, but this time I have taken the tour twice and both time the docents were excellent. I believe that the difference is that since Jackson was at the museum for so long, everyone got to know him and understand his art more fully. Plus Jackson is clearly an open and interesting man, who demystifies the art process and freely allows photographs in the gallery. What a boon for bloggers, since writing about art is so much better when I can illustrate it.

Here is another piece, Pump Pee Doo, which is a take off on the Pompidou Museum in Paris. When activated, the bears pee paint into urinals. The piece reflects ideas of Duchamp, complementary colours, the process of painting and just plain fun.

Here is a close up of another painting constructed on site. In this piece, Jackson used paint as the mortar to build an enormous wall of paintings, held together by only acrylic and a few strategic wires.

The piece goes up about twenty feet to the ceiling of the museum. Like the swirling painting on the main floor it is ephemeral, and will be taken down at the end of the show. I felt sad that these works would be destroyed eventually and also privileged that I got to see them. As I mentioned, I've already been to the show twice, and I intend to go once more before the show ends in September. Finding a new favourite artist that I did not know before is a great delight.

New works

2010-06-11T16:50:00.000-07:00

New media is so confusing! Even after taking a class in social media for artists, I am never certain what I should be posting on Facebook, my website or my blog. One thing I do know for sure is that my blog is the easiest and fastest way to get a visual message out. So today, I am showing you the proud products of my last month in the studio.

I am delighted to have been selected for a Modern Painting show at the Agnes Bugera Gallery in Edmonton. Although I have not been to Edmonton for many years, it sounds like an incredible art city and I am hoping to go soon and check out the gorgeous Art Gallery of Alberta.

Thanks to the magic of technology, Agnes was able to go to my website and choose a painting that she liked which I then sent to her, and I painted some more in the same Transparency series. She has already had some interest in that work, so I have my fingers crossed for the rest of the show.

Here are the new paintings for the show:

"arc"

This painting is one of my favourites, there is a flow in the composition and the full spectrum of colours is aesthetically appealing to me right now. My photographer, Ted Clarke, told me it was the most difficult to photograph due to the varying brushstrokes on the golden stripes. As if I didn't already give him enough headaches with resin, glitter and neon colour!

"continental drift"

Two paintings in this series resisted having a top and bottom, and I kept twirling them to find the right balance. Square paintings can be hung in different directions and still look amazing. Why not try hanging a painting upside down, I'm sure you'll notice something new and different? I like it when people change up my paintings, that's why I sign them all on the side.

"touch"

The shapes on this painting reminded me of the hand of man reaching for the hand of God in Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam". You may be wondering if modesty runs in my family as I compare myself to one of the greatest artists of all time. I think the actual comparison is more like an inkblot (my painting) versus the actual object, I may see the similarity but it's nothing like the real thing.

"rotation"

Some paintings come together with ease. I am completely content with the composition here, and the floating targets. Much of it was dictated by the collage scrap from another painting and its unusual shape. Still I notice that sweat and effort don't necessarily make a better painting in the end.

"stalagamites & stalactites"

I think it's wrong for abstract works to be untitled, you need to give a hint of where your mind was at as you painted. Still having said that, I have named a fair number of paintings just before they are shipped or hung. Sometimes you just squint and figure out what you're seeing, as I did in this case. I don't think the title does it justice though, and I'm willing to take other suggestions.

"sunburst"

This painting is full of energy and movement. It was the last painting in the series that I completed, which can be a weak sister, but in this case was not at all. To prevent having to show paintings that I am not happy with, I tend to do two or three extra paintings, which are sometimes not finished for months.

"thrush song"

When I am looking for text or inspiration, I often turn to my favourite poem, "The Wasteland" by T.S.Eliot. The poem is full of beautiful phrases which echo in my head. In this case, I wanted a watery text for this painting which spoke to me of floating, tiny marine animals and watery depths. I found the watery phrase, "drip, drip, drip" which was the song of the Quebec Thrush according to my footnotes. Water + Canada + Eliot = the perfect text for my painting.

What do you think of the new works?

half & half show

2010-04-26T11:29:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, my first museum show opened at the Japanese Canadian National Museum. I did twelve paintings for the show and Robert Shiozaki constructed a sculptural meditation garden in the centre of the museum space. The idea I had for the show was that of Japantown Reimagined, an idea of the bustling stores of Powell Street if there had been no internment and the stores were updated for today.

Here are photos of the show, if you would like to see the paintings, there are on my website at: www.matart.ca

Good things come in threes

2010-04-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

I began writing this blog last night and planned to finish it today. The subject is happiness and good things happening, and incredibly more good things have happened in the meantime.

I am on an art high. In the first place, I am almost finished all the paintings for the Japanese Canadian National Museum show. Hooray! I had to get them done early so that I can deliver them to the photographer. He gave me the option of two different days and I chose the earlier one, since I want to be done and able to relax and enjoy the first game of the playoffs (Canucks vs. Kings) on Thursday. So I motored through and finished 7 paintings in the last three days. While that sounds amazingly productive, my process involves working in layers, so the work might best described as binary. Instead of being 75% of the way there, my paintings are either done or not done.

I have the satisfaction of looking around the studio and seeing all the work I have done. The show looks good to me, although the work has evolved as I did it, and there may be a slightly schizophrenic quality to it. Still, I'm feeling proud and one of my favourites is this one:

The second nice thing that happened was getting accepted into The Cheaper Show. I had a nice studio visit from one of the show's curators, but she was more interested in getting a variety of applications than specifically vetting my work. So I applied, and then found out that there were 950 applications from around the world for 200 spots. At that point, I basically forgot all about the process until another artist friend reminded me. So I ended up watching an 8 minute video in which the shows organizers discussed the project and the process, and then in the second half they showed slides of the work and names of the selected artists. Not in alphabetical order either, these people know how to build up excitement. I knew some of the artists and admired others, and there was a certain tension to having to watch. Then...my painting appeared! I gave a little shriek and ran upstairs to tell Patrick. Being only 6:30 in the morning, he wasn't quite as enthusiastic as I was, but he didn't actually growl at me, so it's all good.

Good things come in threes, right?

The third thing happened today. I got an email from Agnes Bugera Gallery in Edmonton asking if I would be interested in being represented by her. (The perfect email for an artist: the subject line is Representation and the sender is a gallery I know.) Turned out that I was referred to her by Deborah Boileau of Sopa Fine Arts in Kelowna, to whom I have been sending work for her Under $800 shows. It's all an enormous thrill for me. I spoke to Agnes who was the correct combination of charming and business-like. I will be part of a group show starting June 26th.

Sometimes being an artist is a lot like dating. If you wait by the phone or pursue someone manically it never seems to work out. But if you are busy doing what you love and just enjoying what you have, the phone rings and Mr. Right is on the line. Happy days.

The creative routine

2010-04-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite books about the creative process is Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit. In this book she posits that consistent, quality creativity comes from having a routine and following it. Basically you get better by putting the time in, long and consistent hours of work.

Many artists, myself included, have trouble with this simple idea. They work sporadically, slacking off in the quiet times and pushing themselves relentlessly before a big show. I must admit that procrastination could be my middle name, but the way to get around this flaw is to commit to a lot of shows. Deadlines have a way of forcing that structure on your routine. And that structure is where you can mine the true gold of creativity.

For the past few months, I've been working on the paintings for the Half & Half show at the Japanese Canadian National Museum, and the installation takes place in less than two weeks. (Insert panicked yelp here). The whip of the deadline forces me to take risks and make decisions on the spot, rather than delaying as I like to. I tend to work on four or five paintings at one time, so I can hang the unfinished ones on the wall and speculate on what is needed next. Sometimes that results in paintings that remain unfinished for months as I ponder. But beyond one week, I'm not sure that the paintings are any better for the time spent unfinished.

My usual painting process is one of layers, images painted upon images and then torn back to reveal what is underneath. However, while creating this series, I have made two new paintings that are quite different from my usual style, but I find them extremely satisfying and beautiful. Both are based on images of children in the old Japantown.

I made the photos into squares and then combined them in a grid with origami paper. Then, unsure of the colourfast quality of the paper, I repainted each square matching the colour exactly, since I think that origami paper has distinctly Japanese colours. Finally I added a symbol of the present, Hello Kitty heads done in glitter. It's probably better not to know how my mind works, but they do look cool and that's the key, right? Finish off the panels with resin, and I have two new works in an intriguing new direction that I plan to explore more this year. All a result of plugging away in the studio.

I can too draw!

2010-03-28T07:31:00.000-07:00

One of the great surprises of my artistic career is that I now create abstract paintings. I think I actually have a prejudice against abstract painters. Just painters, not abstract paintings which I have always loved: from the graphic late Matisse works to the saturated canvases of Helen Frankenthaler and best of all the glowing colours of Mark Rothko.

I just had this theory that artists became abstract artists because they couldn’t draw. I had seen proof of this in my student days at Emily Carr and in studios beyond. You could call it the Picasso effect, if you look at Picasso’s early work you can see that he was a skilled artist but his main fame developed from his cubist period. Later, artists began skipping the exploratory representational period and going right to abstraction. If they had ideas and theories to apply to their work this could be a beautiful thing, but lesser artists just aped the giants in their fields.

Abstraction gave birth to huge groups of people standing in front of paintings and saying things like:

My kid could do that!

What is that supposed to be?

I don’t get it.

Can we go for lunch now?

I was determined that I was going to be able to render well, even though I hated work that was photographically realistic. My theory was that if I could draw, I would be free to explore any ideas I had and not be forced into more design-y work. So I took lots of drawing classes and practiced my life drawing. My life drawing is still not terrific, but I need to be practicing more. As perverts everywhere say, just not enough nude people lying around when you need them.

Probably the ideal artistic practice for me would be someone like Richard Diebenkorn or Gerhardt Richter. Both artists alternate between representational paintings and ethereal abstractions. While I can hardly place myself in their exalted company, I like the idea of change and keeping your viewers off-balance. The ability to thumb your nose at everyone who tries to pigeonhole your artistic practice.

My process now actually layers paintings that are representational one atop the next. By the end, you can hardly recognize any of the individual layers and the end result is often quite abstract. I can see the layers underneath though, and in my mind it’s a series of representational paintings. I still find it frustrating to not be able to draw exactly the way I would like to on demand, yet some days in the studio are better than others.

Yesterday was an excellent day. We all have things that we enjoy drawing. I have a lot of success with dresses, fruit, desserts and cats. (Not dogs, my dogs range from goat-like to pillowy.) The other thing I love to draw, but am not always successful with, is buildings. The painting I am currently working on is from an old photograph of Powell Street in the heart of old Japantown. It’s going very well, and although I hardly ever show my work in progress, here’s a photo of how it looks right now. I will be back in the studio today and by tonight it may be completely changed. I just hope I don’t wreck it, but pushing the good work is where I learn the limits.

the five stages of painting

2010-03-11T22:24:00.000-08:00

I know that this blog entry is late, but I have a good excuse: it's about procrastinating!

I'm not sure if procrastinating is something that all artists do, or just me. But judging from the times that I've organized shows, I think it may be all artists. I have hung shows where the work was still wet, oil paintings of course. And I've noticed that entries all come in just before any deadline.

My current procrastination has to do with my upcoming show at the Nikkei Museum. Although I have known about the show since the fall, I must admit that I have spent too long in the cogitating state, where I assemble materials and ideas and think about how to create work around them. Now things are coming together, and each day in the studio is very satisfying, but a week ago I was in the depths of despair.

Here for me are the stages of painting:

1. Joy!
This is the stage where you get accepted into a show or some other creative project. You are elated and realize that your talent is being recognized and appreciated. You randomly hug members of your family and chatter nonstop to your friends.

2. Cogitating
You gather ideas for your artwork. This stage is a great excuse for buying all the art supplies you have been coveting at Opus, specifically that lovely circle of bright coloured inks in my case. (Note: I haven't actually bought them yet, as I purchased two and am still unable to figure out how they are different from diluted paint.) During this stage you do a lot of reading, research and observation and spend long hours in the shower releasing your right brain thinking. Your hydro bill goes up but it is all in the name of creativity.

3. Procrastination
You have some ideas, but you're not sure if they are good enough. You wonder if you should think of more or get started. You notice that your favourite hockey teams are playing that night and watch them. You prepare an complicated dinner to everyone's delight. You go shopping or to a concert or even to a gallery. You groom reluctant cats. You go to the studio, but you get sidetracked by a small project or just cleaning out your paper drawer. You do anything but work on your project and you feel guilty.

4. Panic
Suddenly a deadline is looming or something has changed and you need a piece of work right away. You begin working quickly, painting and prepping several panels at once, perhaps even 14 in one case I know.
You are painting and working but nothing is going right. You fear that you are a fraud and not a genius after all, you are in despair that you will never be a great artist. Why did you waste all that time before? Service jobs with a steady paycheque start to have appeal. Family and friends avoid you, as any little thing can set you off.

5. More joy!
Somewhere in the panic, you are forced to make several bold strokes and suddenly your painting is falling into place. You love the artwork, it's coming out brilliantly. You keep painting with great hopefulness. When the painting is finished, you put it on the wall of the studio and admire it. It is wonderful, the best work you have ever done, how did you doubt yourself? You are so happy. Much hugging ensues.

Then you realize that you need to make 13 more as good as the first one and you move back into Stage 3 (procrastination) or Stage 4 (panic).

My latest painting which is my current pride and joy.

Olympics and the well rounded life

2010-02-24T11:00:00.000-08:00

I've got a fever, and it's not for more cowbell. The Olympics are on in Vancouver, and I've been attending all kinds of events. The most incredible one so far was the men's hockey game between Canada and Switzerland, which was unbelievably close and ended up in Canada winning in a shoot out. I'm a big hockey fan and I've attended many games, from minor hockey tournaments to Canuck's playoff games, but I have to say that this game was unbelievable. The atmosphere and excitement at the rink were palpable. As the young guy beside me put it in an awestruck voice: "I can't believe I'm here!"

And that was the part of the game that was the best, the energy of everyone in the rink. 18,000 people feeling the same tension, hopes, and the final common jubliation at the win. And despite all the hype and worry about the Olympics, it turns out that it's energy of people that make the Olympics a fantastic experience. As I walk around downtown Vancouver, I see hundreds of people in places where nobody normally walks, just drinking in the beautiful city and everyone around them. On Granville Street at night, I see big groups of happy people partying it up. The city is transformed by all the people. The Olympics creates a mix of different nationalities, different ages and different interests, all together in one spot.

So, what does this have to do with art? Many artists have been protesting the Olympics as too much spending on sports and not enough on the arts. However I think that this us vs. them mentality is wrong. The truth is that between the beginning of the Olympic process and the games, there was a global economic crisis, and governments at all levels were forced to retrench and cut arts spending (among many other programs). They had to honour their Olympic spending commitments, and so cuts came at the expense of other things, many more important than arts. Whether there will be long lasting economic benefits to Vancouver cannot yet be judged, but I believe there is hope.

On the streets of Vancouver today there are many lineups for different pavillions and for the Vancouver Art Gallery. Because the truth is that no person is one dimensional. Tourists may come for the Olympic games, but they are also interested in the culture of the place. I saw the beauty of Barcelona at the summer Olympics and two years later found myself in Spain, touring the Bilbao and the Prado. As a parent, I have tried to raise children who are well-rounded, active in sports & arts and interested in culture & ideas. Well-rounded people who travel and enjoy many aspects of life. A few people are fantatics, but most are interested in a variety of things, and arts are usually one of them. So any event that brings more people and more interest to the place you live is fantastic.

Go Arts Go!

Vancouver is gift-wrapped and ready for the world!

2010-02-06T18:01:00.000-08:00

With the Olympics only a week away, Vancouver is all fixed up. Some might even say tarted up. Interestingly, in the tradition of Potemkin Villages everywhere, a lot of the decoration is purely gift-wrapping. Buildings have been wrapped in bright banners and advertising, so that everything looks great. As soon as the Olympics are over we can unwrap them and return to the normal state of greyness.

I love the gift wrapping of the buildings! If I had my way, the whole city of Vancouver would be bright and colourful all the time, much like it was during Expo '86. I have seen some great use of colour in new architecture, and I think a city like Vancouver which is rainy and dark for much of the year can use a hit of colour. My own home and my art are always packed with bright colour and it's very energizing.

The gift wrapping began with the Hotel Georgia condiminium complex. You can see the flag here, and also reflected across the street:

Advertisers are building-wrapping as well:

But my favourite is the Vancouver Art Gallery, where Taiwanese artist, Michael Lin has wrapped the gallery in gorgeous flowers. In my opinion it looks much better this way!

The colour creates an energy and happiness in the building. People were milling around the VAG courtyard in a way you never see normally. I am convinced that colour generates good energy!

Yes, Vancouver is all ready for her close-up. Even the peeler bars are getting into the act:

Lisa Ochowycz's studio

2010-01-30T15:24:00.000-08:00

I am fascinated by other people's studios. I love poking around and seeing how artists organize things and how the studio reflects the work. So as part of an occasional series in my blog, I would like to introduce artist's studios that I find interesting.

Lisa Ochowycz is an abstract painter that I met when she was sitting outside my studio one early summer morning, waiting to sign a lease for a new studio space in my building. She looked so friendly and we hit it off right away, and now that I have moved upstairs my studio is right across the hall from her. I must admit, I was pretty surprised when I first saw her studio. Her paintings are complete abstractions, with large areas of floating colour, drippy shapes, and soft transitions of form. But her studio is divinely organized, and as a naturally messy person I am very impressed. Anyway, take a look for yourself. Here is Lisa's studio, and her poetic answers to my nosy questions.

What is your favourite part of the studio?

Firstly, I love the building I am in and the variety of artists I am surrounded by. As for the studio itself, it's wonderful to have a place that really feels like my own; being tucked away up in the mezzanine, with lots of light, my painting wall, a small selection of teas, and a little tapenade and fresh bread....it all adds up to providing a great deal of artists legroom. I feel so fortunate to have this space.

Can you tell me about your studio routine?

As an abstract expressionist it's become apparent that each element of my day is related to my time in the studio. Friendships, family, biking to my studio, chai at Granville Island, they're all precursors that set the stage for what can happen when I'm in front of a blank panel. Once I've arrived at my studio I prefer to start my time with writing a bit in my journal it's an effortless way to achieve a general focus and clarity. By the time the first brush strokes are made I'm clear and feel in tune and I don't feel overshadowed by whatever stresses may have accumulated during the day.

What is one thing that really inspires your creativity?
Acquiring a depth of understanding in life is the greatest muse I've come across, and few things promote it more than music.

To see more of Lisa's work, please check out her website.

yummy art trades

2010-01-24T21:11:00.000-08:00

For Christmas I received an early present in the mail from a young woman I have never met from a place I haven't been to in years. How did this miracle occur? It was courtesy of one of my favourite things, the art trade.

I made my first art trade about five years ago during the Culture Crawl. Tanya Mitchell, a potter who was in my building was poking around my studio and told me how much she loved one painting, an encaustic rose. I told her how much I loved one of her huge platters and she suggested that if my painting didn't sell during the Crawl, we could make a trade afterwards. It all worked out, and I was amazed by how much pleasure I got from that platter, everytime I used it, I felt like I had earned it with my own hard labour.

Now negotiating art trades requires a very delicate diplomacy. Some artists may prefer the cash, if you like their art you buy it and then they will buy yours. You may want to trade with an artist, but perhaps they don't like your work. I have proposed trades to artists who sweetly smiled and demurred, which is of course their right. Also there is the issue of values, sometimes your prices may be significantly different, so you may want to do some kind of cash/art combination. I love looking at other people's artwork and poking in other people's studios, so I usually know what another artist's work looks like before they have seen mine. If an artist whose work I love comes and admires mine, that is the optimum time to suggest a trade.

The Christmas art trade had its beginnings when I took part in the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition last summer. A woman who had seen my work there contacted me to contribute to the Ontario College of Art fundraiser. When I investigated a little further, I ended up on the site of the artist who had sent me the email request, I fell in love with her sweet paintings. Her name is Jessica Newell, and she not only makes cupcake art, she makes cakes as well. Life perfectly intersecting with art. We started an email negotiation that resulted in my unwrapping this adorable painting:

And here's the painting I sent to Jessica, along with a plaster cupcake. I do love dessert art!

I must admit, guiltily, that I did not end up sending anything to the OCA fundraiser, but I hope to next year. I also hope to meet Jessica some day, perhaps over a cupcake!

wanted: decent docents

2010-01-17T23:07:00.000-08:00

In December I went to two very different art shows. The first was a Wanda Koop exhibition at the Richmond Art Gallery, featuring Koop's drawings of faces instead of her normal landscapes. The show included some of her sketchbooks and inspirations as well.

The second show was a specially arranged viewing at the new private art gallery in Chinatown, owned by Bob Rennie. In order to visit the art gallery you have to make an appointment for a specific date and have your name on a list to even get in. A special curator gives you a tour of the show. Lots of organizational homework, but no charge to get in. The show was all works by Mona Hatoum, who does large scale works about politics and place. My particular favourite was one called Homebound, which involved a number of household objects lighting up in turn.

However, I don't want to review either show here. What struck me was the lost opportunity for real engagement with the artwork. In each gallery was a volunteer docent who spoke about the work. I don't mean to criticize either one, since both were at high end of docents I have encountered. The Richmond Art Gallery docent explained what she knew about the artwork and seemed keen to make a connection with us. However, I certainly got the feeling that she hadn't been given a lot of information in the first place, and she was a bit overly concerned with protecting the work (from my leaning on a case or from photography of any kind.)

At the Rennie Museum, the docent there was extremely well-informed, and had art school background. She explained the history of the museum's building, as well as prefacing her talk with the warning that Hatoum preferred for people to approach the work without preconceptions, thus limiting the amount she could say. However, I felt a huge lost opportunity here, because of the quality of people in our group. We had artists, collectors, curators, art teachers, art bloggers and writers. If we could have begun a real discussion on any one piece it would have been amazing.

Once you finish art school it seems that you have to work really hard to find a chance to seriously discuss art. It would be wonderful if art museums could take on more of that role. Art is not meant to be only viewed, it needs to be experienced and interacted with. Usually shows are created by curators with great enthusiasm. That enthusiasm needs to be communicated to the viewers of the show. Getting people engaged in shows requires either extensive supplementary material (headsets, written materials, videos) or better still: excellent docents who are trained not only in explanation but exploration. Perhaps to achieve this, docents would need to be extensively trained and paid. But the results could be a deep appreciation of the art.

P.S. I apologize for not posting in the past month. I have enjoyed blogging so much that it got me started on a big creative writing project which has become an obsession for me. However I am hearby committing to posting every week to 10 days. For 2010, I am planning some studio visits which will help me to explore my own fascination with studios and studio practice.

Celebrity?

2009-12-15T06:37:00.000-08:00

When I was a young woman, I took a certain amount of attention for granted. Great service from waiters, comments from construction sites, the honking of pick up trucks ( in Calgary anyway), and the appraising glances of other women. Now that I am a middle-aged woman, I take a certain amount of anonymity for granted. I once read in an Amanda Cross mystery that being an older woman was the perfect disguise for a detective as no one would notice you. And that mindset is why I find my few days of celebrity so surprising.

I first noticed something odd during the Culture Crawl a few years ago when I first unveiled my large-scale, layered resin paintings. These paintings were original and attracted a lot of attention. People were hanging around the studio just to look at the work and chat with me. Some actually came back during the weekend, bringing their friends and significant others, wanting to show them the work and meet me. I just assumed these people were nice and attentive to everyone, and it actually took me several months of reflection to realize that people were interested in me and my opinions, just because I am an artist. In the studio, you stand surrounded by your artwork, everyone can see your vision, your creativity laid out. Seeing your art is like seeing inside your brain.

This year was no exception, and in my own studio I was able to display more paintings and create a whole crazy energy around the work. I was interviewed by student newspapers and ESL students on assignment: photographed by bloggers and twitterers; courted by art websites, and actually had crowds of people (well, small crowds anyway) listening to me explain my painting process. And I had amazing conversations with different individuals about my art and their ideas about the art.

Now that I'm fading back into obscurity, I have the pleasure of knowing that even during times of financial cutbacks to the arts, many people still have a lot of respect for and interest in for artists.

Welcome to my studio

2009-11-22T08:40:00.000-08:00

I love touring studios and one of my great regrets about participating in the Culture Crawl is that I never get check out other people's studios. So for all the other artists stuck in their studios, and for my friends and clients in other cities, here is what my studio will be looking like this weekend.

Just come on in...my name is on the door, a first for me!

Small works, a bit of sculpture and my favourite art books.

Some shelf vignettes.

The back wall, with paintings to leaf through.

The west wall.

New paintings I just finished in the past two weeks. Of course, I work better under pressure, but I am very pleased with them. After working really hard for different shows in the past year, I vowed that I wouldn't create any more works that I wasn't completely happy with no matter what the consequences.

A combo. I really like this way of displaying the work. You could try it using whatever paintings you already have, it's a chance to curate your own walls. The paintings bounce off each other and cause you to notice what they have in common or their differences.

And food... the only thing I can't share with you on the internet!

group think

2009-11-11T17:24:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been in a situation where a group of people are feeling the same emotion at the same time? It could be the tense crowd at tight hockey playoff game. Or the moist-eyed audience at a film festival. Or you could be one of the artists getting ready for the Eastside Culture Crawl, Vancouver's biggest open studio event. Usually my studio building of fifty-odd (or merely peculiar) artists is relatively calm. Some artists are there everyday, they treat their art as a regular nine-to-five job, and work accordingly. Most of the furniture makers and some ceramic artists fall into this category. Others are deadline driven, they appear shortly before a show and whip up tons of work in a frenzy. Most of the painters fall into this category. The Culture Crawl means everyone has a deadline at once, and our "to do list" includes scrubbing and purging the studio as well as creating some (hopefully) excellent artwork.

In these last ten days before the Crawl, things are getting hectic. Yesterday my studio echoed with noises of neighbouring construction, paint splashing, deep cleaning, music and swearing (not mine, some unknown workermen!) Behind every door was action, as well as a general feeling of excitement and anticipation. Closer to the event, that excitement may turn into stress, as a flurry of last minute tasks mounts.

My name was just installed both on my new pink door, and outside the building for the first time. I am a bit nervous opening up my new solo studio for the first time, but I'm also proud of the work I've put into it. I have the freedom to hang my work as I want, to play my favourite Canadian indie music, and to create a fun energy in the room.

Opening up your studio for the Crawl is like hosting a party, you invite people into your home and hope that they will enjoy it. Your studio and your artwork reflect who you are and invite judgement. I admit it's painful when people take one look at my studio and leave, but many more people are generous with their interest and comments about the artwork, which makes the Crawl quite rewarding. Artists usually work in solitary splendour, but occassionally we throw open the doors, and get to hear what people think. When I get back to painting, all the feedback reverberates in my head.

chaos and creation

2009-10-18T18:29:00.000-07:00

Right now my new studio is in upheaval. After I painstakingly painted the doors hot pink (three coats, and ironically I am a terrible painter), then painted the walls and shelving a bright white, I decided to go all out and get some renovation help. As you can see in the photo, Gene is constructing a storage area for me so that I can put away a lot of my studio junk. I am heavily influenced by whatever I see, so I like my vista to be a clean slate, no distracting visuals. At least that is what I thought...

Ironically, in the midst of all this chaos, my painting is going really well. I have three pieces on the go right now and each one of them is at the stage I would call "getting there", some parts of the painting are really nice, and I can start to visualize the finished painting. Although I am surrounded by mess, I am able to put on the i-pod and just focus on painting. Perhaps my idealized vision of a clean studio is just impossible. To begin with I am by nature untidy, then my painting methods generously contribute paint drips and multiple scraps of paper and since I enjoy working on a number of things at once, I tend to spread out throughout the room. All of this process equals a continually chaotic studio.

I imagine that things would be better if my surroundings were perfectly tidy. But after years of being unable to attain this zen state of perfection perhaps I should just give up and stop worrying. Does it really matter if my surroundings are pristine? I usually focus on the painting for weeks and then when the trash gets ankle deep, I swoop around manically and clean up. If I spend too much time tidying, I'm usually procrastinating about painting. But right now, when the painting is going well, I can hardly wait to get into the studio and I don't care if the walls are crumbling or in this case rising around me.

Force fields

2009-10-15T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a book about Peter Doig, an artist I greatly admire. The book is about his 2008 Show at the Tate Britain, and features many of his disquieting landscapes. In the book, I spotted a painting that I had seen in person at the National Gallery in Ottawa. This painting, Grand Rivere, is a dark and jungly landscape that suggests a mysterious narrative. It's huge and gorgeous and slightly disconcerting, and held the whole wall of the museum room. On the opposite wall was a large scale painting by another artist that I admire, Landon Mackenzie. This painting was also dark, a blue darkness with glowing highlights.

I must have looked like a crazed puppy at a tennis court, as I scrambled across from one painting to the other, admiring the details in turn. The paintings shared a darkness and a mystery, but situating them across from one another was brilliant as it created an artistic synergy in the room, a vertiable force field. The paintings were superficially similar, but the differences were intriguing:

jungle vs. urban

paint rubbed away vs. addition of mixed media

nature vs. man-made

I love to read about art, but not as much as I enjoy exhibitions. Seeing paintings in person is always worthwhile, but seeing paintings in juxtaposition adds an unexpected dimension.

I brake for art

2009-10-03T14:53:00.000-07:00

If there was a bumper sticker about braking for art exhibitions, I might be tempted to put it on my little red Mazda. I love travel and I love visiting new art museums and galleries. Anticipation is half the fun, so I pour over the art show listings in the local, national and international press.

In the next year, I have a couple of art trips planned already. On the home front I would like to see the private museum of Bob Rennie, which is opening in Vancouver this year. Apparently, it is by invitation only, but I'm sure if I keep my ears open some well-connected friend will be going and I can tag along. His collection tends towards the conceptual, but I am interested in seeing art that has been selected and curated by the tastes of one person.

I usually see at least one show in the States, and this year it will be Richard Diebenkorn: The Ocean Park Series, 1967 to 1988. This show will be on at the Orange County Museum of Art beginning in April 2010 and running until early September. Apparently it's so far in the future it hasn't even made it to the museum's website yet. I love the structure of the Ocean Park paintings, and his delicate use of colour within that repeated composition. I am also intrigued by the way that Diebenkorn has rotated between representational and abstract works during his career, like another artist I admire: Gerhard Richter.

A study of art and art history can result in derivative paintings without conscious intention. One painting I did drew several comparisons to Richard Diebenkorn, and although it was unconscious on my part, there was a definite similarity. Sometimes, as I work to resolve a painting, whatever seems right may actually be something familiar. To avoid this, I use a tearing process I cannot control that creates a random quality in the work. Still for the visual mind to be completely new is difficult in our image-filled age.

Well here is Richard Diebenkorn's "Ocean Park 54"...

... and here's my painting entitled "Lines Revealed". What do you think?

But what is also interesting is that Diebenkorn was initially inspired by the composition of Matisse's "Open Window, Coulliore" to create the Ocean Park series in the first place. Clearly Diebenkorn has evolved the composition to something quite different, both by hard work (there are over 140 paintings in the Ocean Park series) and by experimentation with colour and abstraction. In the hands of a great painter, inspiration plus hard work equals masterpieces. I am greatly looking forward to seeing the paintings in person.

Of Montreal

2009-09-30T21:40:00.001-07:00

I just returned from a lovely weekend in Montreal involving many of my favourite activities: eating, shopping, seeing art and socializing. One topic of discussion was why people, both men and women, are better dressed in Montreal. They wear artfully knotted scarves, trendy shoes, and this fall, lots of dark layers. My favourite fashion sighting was a punky young girl with skinny jeans, a jacket, black t-shirt and Doc Marten-styled boots; the kicker was that the boots were bright fushia and the t-shirt had a splash of the exactly the same pink.

I think all this good dressing has to do with "the gaze". In Montreal people look at you, sometimes flirtatiously, sometimes curiously, sometimes competitively, but they all look. If people are looking at you with interest, you hold yourself up a little straighter and try to look your best. You add that long scarf or dangly earring and pop on a brighter lipstick when you go out, because you know you will be seen.

I think that something similar goes on with art. Once you buy your first original artwork, you take it home and hang it and admire it. You start to look at art more, when visiting friends, at the doctor's office, or best of all in the museum. You have a heightened awareness of the visual, and a growing appreciation of what you like and don't like. You start to look around you, and notice little vignettes of beauty everywhere.

What lovely vignette did you see today?

One door closes...

2009-09-18T17:27:00.000-07:00

Bye, bye studio!

Leaving my studio after four years is a bit sad. I had a lot of enjoyment and accomplishment here. In this little studio I developed the resin paintings I now love, which took lots of experimentation and many failures along the way. Here I also moved from representation to increasing pattern and abstraction. And I also met many great people during the past four Culture Crawls.

When I first took on the studio, it was supposed to be only for the summer. I had a show to prepare for, and I knew the only way I could get ready was if I worked with the distractions. At home was the siren song of the computer, the fridge and even an attention-seeking cat. So I finished classes at Emily Carr in April, got the studio in May and started painting like a madwoman for the show in June. Here's what my show in 2005 looked like:

After the show, I exhaled mightily and started coming to the studio only sporadically. I was subletting from Cheryl Fortier, and I noticed that she was always there on weekdays, painting or teaching classes. She treated her art practice as a profession, and I started to do the same with mine. I came to greatly admire Cheryl's professional attitude and work ethic. Despite our different painting styles, Cheryl and I got along tremendously well, and so I ended up staying four years instead of four months. We love art, but we also love bargains, and we spent more than a few lunch hours visiting the sample sales in our semi-industrial neighbourhood. We also ended up doing a show together at the Britannia Art Gallery, a celebration of the places around our studio.

Now Cheryl has gone to France to work as an artist and administrator, and I had a chance to move to a bigger space, a room of my own. My new studio is just upstairs from the old one, since I could not leave the wonderful Mergatroid Building. So far the new studio seems big and a bit alien, but I plan to christen it with hard work....and cute accessories.