Crossdown Dragit, oil on linen, 9 x 12 ", 2011
What are you working
on in your studio right now?
I
am currently working between two studios.
This summer I moved into a rented studio in the city (Philadelphia) that
I share with friend/painter Tim Schwartz, having previously worked exclusively
in a studio set up in my home. It takes
about 40 minutes for me to get to the city studio, which means I am not there
as often as I would like. So, I keep the
home studio set up for aqueous or mixed media works on paper and smaller
projects, working whenever I can steal a few minutes, while the city studio is set
up for oils and/or larger projects (“larger” being a relative term). Right now I feel that I am finding some traction
in my oil paintings. These newest paintings
begin to capture the immediacy of my works on paper. This has been something I have struggled with
for a while, reconciling the work I make on paper with my more “formal”
painting.
City studio
Can you describe your
working routine?
I
would hesitate to call my working process a routine. In many ways my work has evolved from my
inability to establish routines or regularity in my life in any significant
way. I began painting right around the
same time I was first hired as a high school art teacher, about five years ago (previously,
I went to school for sculpture and for a time after graduating I maintained a studio
practice as a sculptor). Early on, out
of necessity, I would take a minute here and there to throw a few marks down on
a found scrap of paper while on hall duty or waiting for classes to
change. I started scanning these little
pieces and posting them to a blog as a way to force myself to keep making. This was my routine for years, if you could
call it such. Eventually, I set up a
studio in my house and was able to work for a couple hours after school before
cooking dinner, cleaning, spending time with my wife, etc. I remember having a conversation with another
painter about how excited I was to have two whole hours to paint, to which he
dubiously responded, questioning how I could get anything accomplished in such
an insignificant amount of time. Recently I have begun getting up early so that
I can have a half an hour or so to paint before going to work. Additionally, I get to my studio in the city
a couple nights a week. My routine continues
to be sporadic at best, which I embrace. I see my provisional approach for the
reality it represents: the compromises, constraints and imperfect nature of any
emerging artist’s life and practice. My
work attempts to engage the imperfections of the everyday as opposed to
overcoming or ignoring them.
Can you describe your
studio space and how, if at all, that affects your work?
As
mentioned before I have two spaces where I work (not including the work I make
while I am at school teaching). My new
studio is in a converted Catholic high school.
I am in a space that most likely was originally a storeroom or closet,
much smaller than the studios around it, which are converted classrooms. I
share the space with the painter Tim Schwartz, with whom I have been a friend
for close to twenty years. I am rarely
in the space without him there, making our conversations, observations and
critique an essential part of my process.
My space, like my life, is far from pristine. It is much the same in my home studio. A messy mix of clutter, sounds and smells,
ideas, memories, phone rings, cats and interruptions, coffee or whiskey, songs,
tape, pencils, paint, paper, an uncomfortable chair, a view out the window; all
of which contribute to the making of my paintings.
29 Missing ,ink & gouache
on polypropylene, 9” x 5.5”, 2012
Tell me about your
process, where things begin, how they evolve etc.
A
few years back, attempting to figure out my process, I adopted a sort of
mantra: fill the space. I thought if I could reduce the process of
painting to its most essential practical operation it left enough space for
something uniquely personal to be left behind; a sort of trace fingerprint of
authorship unencumbered by formality, narrative or intent. It was from this initial idea that my work
has evolved. When I sit down to paint
(or stand up as it may be) I am intention-less.
I attempt to be wholly receptive, adopting a sort of neutral buoyancy,
so that the faintest of influence tips the scales and starts my process. This influence could be something I see,
think, hear, or remember, the more mundane or under-considered the better. From there, my process is one of action and
reaction. Sometimes I take it too far, other times not far enough. When influence is hard to come by, which is
quite often, I may run through any number of standard operations: fill the
space, draw a line from left to right, draw a line from right to left, make a
shape and fill it in, make two marks and connect them. These operations may end up as the work
itself, or may lead to an unfolding of responses. Recently I have been including text in many
of my paper pieces. This is just a way
for me to connect or pair observations.
The text is often something heard or thought while the painting is being
made. It is meant to reinforce the marks
with which it shares its origins.
The Burden of Counting, ink & gouache
on polypropylene, 9” x 6.5”, 2012
What are you having
the most trouble resolving?
I
struggle with the physical differences of painting with oil on linen and
painting with ink, watercolor or gouache on paper. I want to translate the lightness and
quickness of my works on paper to my paintings, yet retain the presence
afforded oil paint as a medium.
Do you experiment
with different materials a lot or do you prefer to work within certain
parameters?
I
love playing with different materials and methods. My current work evolved from
a process of using scraps and materials leftover by my high school students
during a normal school day. As a
sculptor I used anything I could get my hands on and much of my work was
performance based. In grad school I
spent most of my two years taking photographs.
I have been painting for the last five years and now I teach ceramics
everyday. I typically don’t find myself
too constrained by parameters, at least not for too long. I genuinely believe that whether it is a drawing,
sculpture, performance, photograph, painting, or pot, anything I make is made
with the similar motivation of acknowledging the everyday as sublime.
We Are Sailing, ink & pencil
on polypropylene, 5”x 6”, 2012
What does the future
hold for this work?
Well,
my biggest hope for the future is that this work finds an audience. I struggle at times with the confidence and
commitment necessary to build a career of painting, but I believe with
opportunities such as this one I am gaining momentum.
Is there anything
else you would like to add?
This
has been a great honor and pleasure for me, and I want to thank you for the
invitation. I have been incredibly
fortunate to find support for my work through primarily online forums. I think we are experiencing an amazing point
in history, that through technology we are able to connect instantly and
intimately with artists across the world, trading ideas and critique (and
sometimes even trading work). Your blog
serves to inspire and inform, thanks for your hard work Val!
Half
Awake, oil on linen, 10” x 13”, 2012
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