Johns, Biography and Content

Just before heading to SOVA for the holidays, I finished Jill Johnston's book on Jasper Johns, Privileged information. I had some trouble getting through the book due to some stylistic issues.  

Style issues aside, this book deepened my appreciation and affinity for Johns’ work. Central to Johns’ method is the stripping of meaning from the objects he has depicted, leaving flags, targets, numbers or whatever as simply compositional elements. Basically he would say, “What you see is what you get.” Possibly beginning with the crosshatch paintings in the 70s and more obvious by the earlier 80s, Johns was using more coded information that suggested actual subject matter and content. These paintings were dense and somewhat impenetrable from critical perspective. While some recognized certain imagery (Munch, Grunewald, etc) buried in these works, Johns would not discuss what the images were or what they may mean to him personally. Johns followed Duchamp’s theory that the viewer completes the art. I’ve always taken this to mean that it is not for the artist to explain what a picture is about, whatever the spectator gets from a piece is completely valid.  It is also not important to know any biographical information of an artist to experience the work. In the end, there is the work and the audience, nothing more.

Some artists make their work to try to explain themselves to the world. I have always made work for myself with the hopes that other would find them interesting. Like Johns, I’m not interested in revealing myself to the world yet it is hard not to use personal symbols or coding in my work. Moving to a more minimalist has provided some distance from discussions of “content.” I’m happy enough to reveal that the work is rooted in contemporary music that generally leads to pleasant conversations about music, steering clear of “meaning.”

DC Galleries 9.29.12

As a practicing painter, I know that don’t get out to galleries enough but lately, I have been trying to get better about that. I haven’t been very active with my own blog either, so providing a wrap up after one of these tours feels like the right thing to do.

Yesterday we needed to run into town for a couple of things.  Our first stop was Dupont Circle to take care of some details for Lori Anne’s upcoming solo show. Just down the street we stopped into Cross MacKenzie, a little hallway like gallery that I had never noticed before. Massachusetts-based artist and writer Lyn Horton was showing a number of small to medium-sized drawings on paper with a large wall drawing installation on the back wall. Horton, who received her MFA from Cal Arts in the mid-70s, spending some time executing Sol LeWitt’swall drawings. Horton is also a noted jazz writer, covering some of the contemporary improvised music’s most challenging performers such as Leo WadadaSmith to others on the fringes like DJ Spooky and Thurston Moore. Her drawings feature looping, interconnected white and gray lines on black surfaces. Many of these works have long, tangled strands while other consist more of interlocking shapes. There is a looseness that does provide a link to LeWitt and the improvised music Horton writes about but something about the marks suggest a more studied, deliberate nature. In checking out Horton’s blog, The Paradigm for Beauty, I became more intrigued since she covers a lot of the musicians I was listening to in the 90s and still play in the studio from time to time. Unfortunately, yesterday was the final day of this show.

Next stop was Gallery Plan B and a show of new work by Sheep Jones. Plan B is one of my favorite area galleries. They consistently show work that surprises me. Often the images online will lead me to expect something different that what I actually find. In this case, the images used on the gallery’s website, had that sort of boxy, pallet knife look that I generally run away from as fast as possible. In person, nothing could be further from the truth. The surfaces of these painting were simply gorgeous. There were a few botanical paintings, some figures, some paintings of roads and intersections and a grouping on the back wall which surrounded a good-sized painting of a beehive with numerous small paintings of bees. We’ve all seen shows where an artist has some sort of style and then tries a bunch of different themes playing to a wide variety of possible interests. For me, I quickly associated many of these paintings with the dreaded human activity of working. Work can be direct, hands making things or working the earth to help produce its bounty. For most of us though, work is less tangible. We get up early to drive to our jobs then drive back home again. I get this feeling from the wonderful paintings of roads and power lines. The intense activity of a beehive, where everyone has a job to do, illustrates on a micro level the interconnectedness of human activity.

Across the street, we stopped in at Hemphill for William Christenberry’s show. Christenberry tends to mix a lot of elements and you're never quite sure what he will show. This exhibition contains paintings, constructions, found objects and of course, photography. There is even a holographic Klan Room piece on view as well. Though I never met him during my time at the Corcoran, I’ve always been intrigued by his work.

In the same building, the lush digital photo-imagery of Karan Knorr was on view at Adamson. The large-scale images collaged animals and birds into interiors in Mughal and Rajput palaces, mausoleums, and holy sites in India. I was particularly drawn to Witness at the Tomb of Humayun. 

Our final stop was Civilian Art Projects where Dan Tague’s show: "Independence in the Age of Decadence" was on view. I didn’t know anything about Tague but thought his pieces that use folded and crumbled paper money to have its printed text to spell out such phases as “The Kid are Alright” or “Resistance is Futile” looked pretty clever. Now, I generally scoff at clever since once you’re on to it, its over. Tague’s work had more going on than simply witty messages.  I spent a little time looking at Tague’s US Department of Civil Obedience work that was shown in New Orleans, where he lives and works.  The video that accompanies the show has Tague coming off like a Stephen Colbert-like community organizer. It is unclear how much of this may have actually been done and how much is just made up and in the end--it didn’t really matter. We were surprisingly drawn into this show. It must have been an odd sight to see a family of three standing in small bathroom listening to Tague’s audio installation of statements being read in a straightforward manner. Check this one out.

In The New Year

The crazy crush that I find myself in each December has passed. I've been considering what direction my work should take. I am very happy with my current paintings but have to realize that they have not gained an audience. I believe these painting will make more sense when shown together so I do plan on continuing the series and searching for a place to show them. From the beginning, I saw this series as a step towards abstraction and now I feel like I am ready to work non-objectively for the first time since completing a project during my first semester at the Corcoran.

I have also been planning a multimedia project for a couple of months. At this point, I am expecting the project to take around a year to come together, perhaps continuing indefinitely.

I spent much of the early part of 2011 working on Material World and only exhibited my work at Artomatic@Frederick. It still may be some time before I show again but I am looking forward to resetting the studio and getting down to work.

Whaddya Know?

I read an interesting piece at Wine Spectator Online today by writer Matt Kramer. He is a fascinating wine writer, though I don't always agree with him (well, not very often at all actually) but I find his positions to be thought provoking, challenging to my own ideas.

The article begins by quoting NYT writer, Eric Asimov on the confidence beer drinkers have about enjoying the beverage vs the anxiety wine consumers have about wine. Where it gets interesting is when Kramer brings in Adam Gopnik's critique of "elitist" wine writers. Kramer does a good job of taking down Asimov and Gopnik's arguments but the analogy of wine writing to contemporary art criticism got me thinking.

OK, so having a dual life as a wine educator/retailer and a contemporary artist that actually reads Artforum. I think that just might make me qualified to chime in on this one.

I believe it is true that you can gain more pleasure through knowledge. Here I'm talking about wine, art, music, poetry, etc. I get more out of wine now than I did 15 years ago. I also get more out of music since I've learned more about how music is constructed. But one thing I find is true, I don't usually decide something that I did not like initially all of the sudden becomes better because I came to understand it more.

Around the age of 13 or so, I first read T.S. Eliot. I'm not sure that I understood much of it but I was intrigued by it. Over the years, I kept coming back to his work and by my senior year of college, I had dove deep into his world, creating a suite of paintings based on his life and work. Clearly, my appreciation grew with knowledge but from the start, I knew his work was great.

So take wine, many of my colleagues prefer wines that some would define as sophisticated. These wines may have mineral or earthy characteristics. As a guy selling wine, this is how I describe them to customers. To friends, I would say they tasted like rocks and dirt. No amount of elevated understanding will cause me to like these flavors. I know people that do naturally prefer wines like these, but for the most part, wine geeks "grow" to like these wines.

I'm pretty sure I know what Paul McCarthy is doing but I find his work to be ugly and well, kind of stupid. It has been a long time since art has shocked me, so let's go with stupid. Likewise for Jeff Koons. Never once did I think these guys were making great art. Money- yes. Art-no. Somewhere some tastemakers decided this was good art and we are expected to fall in line. In art, as with wine, I believe in trusting yourself.

For Guston (Books)

Last Spring, I spent a few weeks with my right arm in a sling then about 6 weeks of physical therapy. During this period, I spent a lot of time reading, especially the writings and statements of Philip Guston and his friend Morton Feldman. It was fascinating to note that Guston's views never changed much, even when he made the "shocking" break from abstraction to figuration. I was drawn to his use of a limited amount of everyday objects and their placement on the canvas. Watching film of Guston at work also inspired me to be more direct in my painting, getting it down quickly. Guston was described as the best read high school drop out ever. I decided to paint a stack of books since this was an image Guston painted over and over again, plus it is a nice play on my last name. Well, the direct thing didn't work out though this was record time for me at around one month to produce. I had already begun work on a couple of other paintings but I realized that I was being drawn to the background as much as to the pile of books. This was more obvious in the next couple of paintings where there is only a single object depicted. I am intrigued by having this celebration of everyday battle and perhaps lose to the empty background. This is more pronounced in the work that follows.

The Richter Resolution

A while back, art critic Jerry Saltz published The Richter Resolution calling for a moratorium on the use of projection in the production of art, especially painting. Luckily for me the moratorium had expired when I purchased a little pocket sized projector. My newest paintings are the first time I have ever used projection. I've never been morally opposed to its use. I enjoy good art regardless of how it is produced. I just don't think my previous work would have benefited from projection. In these new works, I'm not trying to achieve type of photo-realistic verisimilitude. The placement of the object on the canvas was critical to these pieces and projection allowed me to play with size and placement until I felt it was right. Much of the drawing was ignored as the paintings progressed. Here I show the projection, the drawn object and the finished piece Standing on the Shoulders of Giants. I would keep losing some of the details of the shoes as I would layer paint so I was constantly correcting the drawing. While I spent time and energy on the image, the painting is not about the shoe.

Art & Music

Having my arm in a sling has taken me out of the studio for a while. I've spent a lot of time reading and listening to music. Both activities are generating ideas, making me want to get to the studio even more.

I've been fascinated with Morton Feldman's music and how many of his ideas grew out of his associations with with members of the New York School. He was a very close friend of Philip Guston and composed two pieces titled For Philip Guston, the second one lasting over 4 hours. One of his first breaks in the music world came when Jackson Pollock asked him to compose the score for the famous short film about Pollock from the early 50's. Other works include a shorter pieces For Franz Kline and the gorgeous Rothko Chapel which was commissioned by the Menils to celebrate the anniversary of the opening of the chapel in Houston. Feldman was committed to abstraction in music, painting and all other art forms. This commitment caused a premanent rift with Guston as the painter began to re-introduce objects into his work during his last decade.

Every artist I know is deeply interested in music though usually rock, not modern concert music. In writing the catalog Material World, I described one artist's work as sharing qualities with the musician Brian Eno. Since Eno is one of my all time favorite artists, this was a very positive remark.

A number of musicians are also serious visual artists. Eno has created numerous video and light installations. David Byrne of Talking Heads has worked in photography, film and installation. Captain Beefheart (Don Van Vliet) quit music all together to concentrate on his painting for the last 20+ years of his life.

I'll be exploring the subject more thoroughly in future posts.

Masterpiece

Well, its a game actually. Earlier today I was discussing with another artist about how our childhoods may have played a role in our work. I remembered a game my family had in the early 70's called Masterpiece. My memory was you bought and sold art- knowing that you were selling a forgery or a Masterpiece. What was really cool was the game came with a lot of postcard images of real art- in our case, the work all was part of the collection of the Chicago Institute (no I don't remember this fact, I just looked it up). Even at that early age, I was drawn to the contemporary works more than the old masters. I think it would be cool to have a 2011 version but the $1m top value would simply be the entry level work.

http://www.amazon.com/Masterpiece-The-Art-Auction-Game/dp/B000MZZMVA

Critical Theory

A post on Matt Langley's blog made me start thinking again about critical theory and its relation to postmodernism and other art world isms that have come about since theory forced itself on an equal plane with artistic creation. Like Matt, I found the group associated with October to stimulate ways of thinking about art production and, on a higher level, its purposes in the contemporary world. The book "Art After Modernism" which was edited by Brian Wallis was my bible in art school with Hal Foster, Craig Owens and the other October editors being as influential as the Euro scene to me. I recently repurchased the Anti-Aesthetic (ed. Hal Foster) to read on an extended business trip and found myself thinking deeper about all levels of art from production to presentation and, ultimately critical scrutiny. I'm starting to dig into Hal Foster's book "The Return of the Real" which was published when I was not engaged in the art world enough to know of it. I received it as a Christmas gift from Lori who stated that she hopes she is never forced to read it. Now, Lori is one of the best painters I know and is intellectually superior to just about anyone I have ever met. It is telling that critical theory holds no real place in her practice. Does it really matter?



Matthew Langley Wooster Street 2010

Material World

I often joke that I only learned three tangible things in art school and only one had anything to do with technique. Back in 1984-85, when I was a foundations student at the Corcoran, I learned two of these three things. Franklin White taught me what a powerful tool the eraser can be. In response to my use of crappy, cheap acrylic colors and student grade canvas, Marie Ringwald told me to use the best materials I can afford. She showed me slides of some pieces that used glass bricks and neon (if my memory is correct). Over the long run, that statement has always stuck with me as much as a pink pearl and dry cleaning bag. I've come to understand that statement to mean, know why you are using what you are using to make your work. Does the material support the work or does it get in the way? In art, as in most things, it all comes down to balance. Do all elements work in concert with each other to create a seamless whole. I am looking to find work for Material World that finds that balance.


Marie Ringwald 2010

True Artists

So what is it that we try to achieve as artists. To have passion? Technique? Originality?

I watched a documentary about the punk band the minutemen last night and it struck me that these guys achieved what we all wish we could do. Listening to their music, even if you hate the style, there is no denying that these guys had awesome chops. There is no doubting their sincerity and passion. Now they were always striving for something a little beyond themselves which kept the flame burning. Their politics were sometimes naive but definitely earnest in their intent. Most of all- there has never been band, before or after them that sounded anything like them.

One of the things in my life I will brag about is seeing their show at the 9:30 club in the Spring of 1985 (they played the night before a rally to protest US intervention in Central America). Even more brag worthy was to spend an evening with them as they stayed at my friends' place after they opened for REM in Norfolk. They played a large chunk of Double Nickels on the Dime on Acoustic Guitars (Mike and D fought over the 12 string).