RESOURCE: What’s next?
Molly, I’ve noticed that series are an important part of your work. Are the works that were on view at Source part of a series? If so, what is the title of this series and why?
Herman: My recent paintings reflect my current interest in textiles, pattern and the research I’ve done for teaching color theory. I’ve particularly looked at work by women of the Bauhaus era such as Anni Albers and Gunta Stolzl. I was fascinated to learn about the Bezold Effect a concept taught in the original Bauhaus color theory course, which was named for a 19th century tapestry designer, Wilhelm von Bezold— a weaver who discovered that he could change color combinations in rugs by altering just one yarn color throughout a given pattern.
As many people already know, pointillists and Impressionists applied this approach to color mixing in paint with revolutionary consequences for the art world at the time. Perhaps an argument could be made that the tradition of the Bezold Effect is continued and extended today in the technology of the pixelated image. However, my interest in this effect is not so much to create an impression of an image, but rather to draw attention to the mark and process itself. By weaving color and marks as a way to move the eye and make connections between various sections or shapes within the composition – but an illusion or a picture never fully emerges beyond the painting’s surface. In this way I am being playful with the expectations of painting’s purpose – but more importantly I mean to call the viewer back to the moment and the process of the painting before them.
Lori, when I saw your paintings and visited your website I thought “She is not afraid of color!” I wonder if color is bold only in your paintings or if it is also reflected in your clothes, home and environment?
Kirkbride: I am absolutely not afraid of color!!! I Love color!! Color is bold in every possible nook and cranny of my life. My bathroom is pink and green (my two favorite colors). I will wear anything bright, crazy, and different. I collect Fiestaware dishes so I cook and eat on a plethora of colors.
As a child I was encouraged to be creative and unique. I was already different from the beginning. I have strawberry blonde hair, which wasn’t that common when I was a child, so it kind of made me stand out. I like to stand out but I wasn’t very extroverted. I was pretty shy. I liked to be the first to do something or look different and my mother always encouraged it. As a kid I was obsessed with Barbie, My Little Pony and I still feel like I could live in a house that looked like Barbie’s. I want my work to exude happiness through color. I am happier in my life with color surrounding me!
Ben, what is mysticism in 2010? Does the writing you do for the Brooklyn Rail influence your work? If so, how?
LaRocco: To take a mystical approach to art is to assume that art is always a part of a much larger, longer story than the contemporary moment. Then the trick is to try to learn as much about that great story as I can so that, in the meager sphere of my own influence and knowledge, I might have some idea about how to act. Mysticism helps me tap into parts of my consciousness that are mostly hidden and it reminds me of my own relative insignificance. Writing has helped to clarify my thinking about all of this. Words are very challenging for me and so tied to things, which is good and bad. Colors are so much clearer.
Rachael, please discuss the intimate scale of your work. In your website there is a great progression of your work from landscape (trees) to abstract painting. You call it evolution and it took me to Mondrian’s Pier and Ocean. Is there a connection?
Wren: The small paintings on paper, such as the work in Source, are a counterpoint to larger, more layered paintings that I work on concurrently. It feels important to have these two types of things happening in the studio at once — the small, intimate pieces can be finished in a few sessions as compared to the larger paintings that take months to complete. The small pieces are not studies for the larger ones, but rather independent pieces that allow me to more quickly explore one color-idea on its own. I do feel an affinity to Mondrian, particularly in terms of paring things down to try to arrive at the essence of an idea.
Let’s look into the future. What’s next? How do you stir up your practice? How do you keep the studio fresh? What are you currently reading? Searching online? What role do technology and social media play in you work or studio practice?
Cunningham: I search online for geometric diagrams and mathematical figures. But I don’t understand the formulas. I am not looking at them because of the mathematical principles. I’m interested in the unexpected intersections and shapes that the diagrams have. I think the work also comes from my fascination with maps, blueprints and architectural drawings. I tend not to say what I am thinking of creating in the future because I think I’ll jinx myself and then I never do it. It’s almost like if I say it, then I have already done it.
Dagley: Next: more grids, lines, diamonds & dots. Stir up my practice: I practice stasis. Keep the studio fresh: Repaint the studio walls white. I’m currently reading The Eye’s Mind: Collected Writings, 1965 – 2009 by Bridget Riley. Social media sites have little role in my actual studio practice, but I have started archiving of my own work from the past 30 years at my website.
Fayer: I keep the studio fresh by not worrying about making mistakes. In the past I have found that my best paintings have emerged from the brink of disaster. Satisfaction is fleeting and the nearly constant state of dissatisfaction is what keeps me searching and pushes me forward. If I discover something I think is great, or make a piece that I think is among my best, I’m not interested in simply repeating that. I want to create, not re-create.
On the flip side, I also am interested in how my perception of a piece can change over time. Sometimes I’ll stop working on a painting, thinking it is stuck and needs something more. I allow it to sit untouched, leaning against a studio wall and several months later, suddenly (it seems) I realize that the piece is done. I don’t believe the painting was actually done those many months earlier; the passage of time was a necessary component in realizing its completion.
LaRocco: I’m studying electricity.
Wren: The question of stirring up my practice, of keeping things in the studio fresh, is something that I think about a lot, especially given the repetitive nature of my work. Your question reminds me of a quote from the book The Art Spirit by Robert Henri that I love: “Today is not a souvenir of yesterday, and so the struggle is everlasting. Who am I today? What do I see today? How shall I use what I know, and how shall I avoid being victim of what I know? Life is not repetition.”
I try to keep things alive and moving forward in the studio by constantly challenging my assumptions about the way I think about and make my work. I often experiment with different media, like collage or 3-d drawings/models, to help me expand my ideas about how to put together a painting. As far as what is next, I try to trust that by following the questions that arise through painting, the work will lead me to a new place. I just started reading The Sight of Death by T.J. Clark, which is a record of his looking at two Poussin paintings repeatedly over several months, and how his thinking about them changed during that time.
