A
little over a year ago, I walked into my nearly empty studio soon after a group
of paintings had been shipped out for a solo exhibit. I gave myself a week to
catch my breath, settle down and then resume my work in the studio. Although I hoped to avoid the post-exhibit
slump, I felt listless and directionless. I started to work on several new
paintings that were directly connected to the previous body of work, but with
little enthusiasm. As this continued for several weeks, I became increasingly
despondent. Was I struggling because I had just hit a tough spot, or was I
struggling because it was time to shift directions? In preparation for the solo exhibit, I had narrowed
my focus—not wanting to become distracted. Perhaps this was the moment to
re-engage with ideas that had cropped up earlier but had been put aside.
The most exhilarating, but at
times terrifying pursuit in the studio can be to set off in new directions--
exhilarating, because everything seems possible; terrifying, because nothing is
certain. To place some limits on the uncertainty I set
up a few rules. First, since my paintings develop slowly over many months, I decided
to do small works on paper that could be executed fairly rapidly. Next, since one element of my recent work had
emphasized areas of rhythmic busyness, I would push myself to dramatically pare
down the compositions. Finally, not only
would I limit compositional complexity, I would also place restrictions on my
palette. Of course, through all of this
I recognized that while these forays might yield dramatic changes in my work,
they might also just lead to a subtle realignment of priorities.
Over
the next twelve months I would follow my rules, completely abandon them, and then
return to them once again. I found myself energized, utterly deflated, and occasionally
thrilled at what I saw emerging in the studio. I would work with great
enthusiasm and then hit a wall. I saw connections to topics I addressed in
previous posts on this blog (Painting in Black and White; A personal take on Rockburne).
But as the year progressed, I felt as if I had accomplished very little.
In
preparation for a studio visit towards the end of 2013, I looked at all that I
had done--looking for the common threads, looking to see which (if any) of the
directions I had pursued resonated with me.
Several observations emerged from this review: It was a relief to
discover that I hadn’t wasted my year; I quickly identified avenues that held
little interest for me; I had a better understanding of several directions that
did excite me; but I still had no idea where I was heading.
What
follows then, is a glimpse of my year in the studio, roughly in the sequence
that I worked on each project (some of which were pursued simultaneously). Although
I’ve provided just a few images, each project includes between 10 and 25 finished pieces.
February 2013 / Untitled oil on paper, 9.75 x 10.5 inches
My first series shows a close connection to the work from the exhibit, although I did follow my rule of working with a restricted palette. Determined to break away from rigid rectilinear forms, I abandoned this group after a few weeks.
March 2013 / Untitled gouache and oil pastel 6 x 6 inches
This project was prompted both by my interest in working in black and white as well as a desire to add linear gestures to my images.
April – July 2013 / Criss Cross oil on paper, 9.75 x 10.5 inches
Although the process would be slower, I resumed my work with oil paint on paper, with an emphasis on developing compositions that were spare, but dynamic. As the series expanded, the palette gradually shifted into colors I considered more decorative, adding an unwanted associative element.
June -July 2013 / This
That oil on paper 10 x 6.25 inches
I found the
process of developing This That meditative and quite satisfying. Once again, I was searching for a dynamic tension while restricting the number of elements in the composition. I also wanted to dip my toes into working with curvilinear forms, something I generally avoid.
July
2013 / charcoal on
paper 8.25 x 9 inches
With this group of drawings, I returned to making visible marks but worked the image by lifting off charcoal with a kneaded eraser, rather than by adding lines on top of the field (as I had done with the gouache and oil pastel). The drawings were executed quickly, meeting one of my rules.
August
– September 2013 / Tangle
charcoal on paper 8.25 x 9
inches
Clearly, this series marked a major departure for me. It emerged in response to my boredom working with more or less parallel lines, and immediately engaged my interest. After I built up the field of charcoal and began to draw (with a kneaded eraser), the images emerged fairly rapidly, in a single, relatively short work session. Although I've taken a hiatus from this series, it has a very powerful hold on me--I love the intense energy these drawings embody. I expect there will be another iteration of Tangle--perhaps in a few months, perhaps in a few years.
May 2013 – January 2014 / Untitled oil on wood panel 15” x 14.5 inches
Although one of my self-imposed rules had been to restrict myself to work that could be produced quickly, I repeatedly returned to this series of small wood panels throughout much of the year. In earlier paintings on panel, I used rough sandpaper on small patches of the paintings to create textures and reveal underlayers. Now I wanted to see what happened when those areas became a more prominent element in my compositions and in my process. As with my earlier paintings, the process entails multiple sessions in the studio until the composition of each painting begins to emerge. Thin paint layers are repeatedly added and partially sanded off. Yes, these are slow paintings. But I stuck to my other rules of keeping the composition spare and the restricting the palette.
It is clear to me that I'm not yet ready to settle down. Indeed, there are already a few new explorations underway. But it has been a satisfying year in the studio.
