Return

I've been away a while from this blog. Lately, its been all about deviantART and RedBubble and Facebook and work and kids and life etc. I started this blog to share art but have since found better mediums to do so. That's not blogspot's fault, its basically an anything goes blog, so I'd like to change the theme/emphasis to exactly that.

Ye, from now on this is about stuff on my chest, a place to vent, review, spew, laugh, blah, topical trash, etc.

I'll start with the other sites. deviantART has SOME great quality, its basically youthful/cool with a lot of highly derivative pop, be patient and you'll find some wonderful people across the planet, real artists. And because this blog is all about free expression, I'll make up generalisations; americans are the least friendly on the planet and are mega-paranoid about people stealing their art- probably cos they do. Brits are the funniest and convey a sense of warmth. Mexicans have very good taste and don't buy into all that manga/fanart crap. Croatians make sublime creations. That'll do. Oh, and the general rule is; the more 'fine art' it is, the less 'pageviews'.

RedBubble is much more mature and traditional and daggy, but much more friendly. Like the 'jazz pub' rather than the 'disco pub'.
And Facebook is Facebook.

The above is the last pic I took; Tower Hill, Koroit, Victoria, Australia.

Draped Female Form

Draw Club is enjoying extra company lately, and last week generated this little beauty.

With pen & ink on watercolour paper, and the first longer pose presenting a dynamic twisting drape juxtaposed with cascading wavy hair, I set to and was pleased with the result.

Other artists I know will pay for a private model and put out a series of paintings which generally find a gallery and receptive market. I wonder whether to do the same. People love nudes. Especially female nudes composed tastefully.

But I get the feeling that it is too easy, like selling sausages in bread or trinkets at a fete.
I do not think that I've challenged society or shaken the dominant paradigm of environmental perception and so forth.

It's just a beautiful, soothing yet stimulating, picture of simple aesthetic merit.

Venus Rock

This is where we spent xmas. The Grampians, Hall's Gap, Victoria, Australia.
The last bushfire's impact is still evident. Trees have that shrub-like regrowth.

Late morning, view NW. Executed on-site.
Mixed drawing media (watercolour, oil pastel, pen & ink, pencil, watercolour-pencil, chalk, conte, charcoal, & gold ink on Saunders 300gsm, 100% rag, neutral pH, 230 x 305mm)

Presented, of course, in a frame sprayed white with white mount.

It took a fair hike uphill to reach the subject. As there was no track, I wasn't sure exactly how to get back. Somehow I intuitively returned to the house without getting lost.

Into the White

2009 has begun with a revolution.
So far I have sprayed about 3 dozen frames in variations of white, and in either satin or gloss.

These frames were from previous decades where it was all the rage to add some sort of personality or status to the artwork during the presentation process. Pretentiously golden, elaborately decorative, with faux aged blotching, or like a Target shirt with slashes and scribbles, or even like acid-wash jeans which seemed such a great idea at the time. All those black metal frames with b&w prints of kids dressed as adults, or semi-clad gym-junkies dressed as farmers and tradies, that I've been collecting from op-shops for years and stored. Well, they are now sprayed soothing, tranquil white. After which I insert some art and add a white mount. Ahhhh. Like a cold beer after hot, hard, dirty work they massage the core.

It seems a return to a conservative tradition, but really is a kind of logical conclusion. The cringing and wincing that occurred every time I passed these frames reached a threshold and could only be overcome with a mighty dose of 'less is more'.

SWV

2009 will be a terrific year as the studio is more studioier.
The resolution will be not to whinge, brag, or defensively justify my existence.

The above pic is where I'd love to catch up some time.

May your art be artistic and your surf surfable.
& (To Chris & Ian, with no apologies for alliteration)
May your dishes be dilectable and your discussions dialectical.

A Little Trumpeting

The redgum carving had a solid week and the last surf was interrupted by the leggy-plug ripping out along with half the tail.

A comment left by Ian on the last blog mentions (besides the compliments & enjoyable anecdote of shared experience) the exploitation of art by the 'free market'.
As tempted as I am to rant on this subject, I'd prefer to refer anyone interested to a book by Peter Timms, 'What's Wrong With Contemporary Art?' (UNSW Press, 2004), who argues the case rather eloquently.
In defence of the gallery owners who tend to choose artists they can bank on, I suppose it really comes down to a case of 'supply and demand'.

I've been inadvertently recalcitrant by indulging in: prolonged and penetrating studies, relentless observation and surveying, intuitive lateral research and seeking/googling obscure readings, and generally experimenting with media and techniques.
Always done out of curiousity. The aim is to arrive at an informed position with work that demonstrates supreme skill (no less!).
The status I suppose I wish to achieve is that of a person who knows himself, his society, and his landscape with minimal compromise. A maverick geographer perhaps! The artwork that results should therefore have an inherent power and integrity.

Sometimes this is not the case, however, it most often is and usually gets forgotten under a pile or shelved, moving on to the next 'thing'. The drive comes from a pride in a vocation, despite lack of recognition, let alone remuneration.

The art is not trendy or cool. It does not superficially regurgitate. Perhaps it is boring to most, but it is a reflection of the me that you otherwise cannot see, and also, most awkwardly, of society.

The Mutton Bird

While I'm back in 2005 (a prodigious year) I'd like to share the background to this seemingly boring seascape drawing.

It's October and I'm living in Port Fairy. I was drawing daily, one in the morn and another in the arvo. Its getting late and I'm racing the light. I'm perched upon one of the 'Mounds of Joy', entertained by a coupla toe-in surfers tearing-up 'Green Island', when suddenly there arrived a handful of Mutton Birds or Shearwaters from nowhere all whorling about me. Steadily their numbers increased. It was the arrival of their annual migration. Now I'm surrounded by thousands with many zipping only inches away from my nose. I didn't know if they were happy/cheeky or aggressive/threatened, but i just kept drawing anyway in a rather rapturous state. My camera was broken at the time and the only way to capture the experience in a non-abstract manner was to piece together a single bird as night fell (I had this thing about only drawing realistically from life at the time).

At a later date I was showing my drawings to a gallery owner who ridiculed my art suggesting that there wasn't much to them. That bloody wanker devoed me saying, "what's this? who cares about a stupid bird". But I suppose I did really need to have gone into a studio and executed a large abstract oil to express the wow factor (had no room or money to do so anyway). Otherwise you really just had to be there.