Monday, February 25, 2013

DOUGLAS WITMER






What are you working on in your studio right now?


The last 12 months have been very busy producing and exhibiting work, but at this moment I am packing my studio in order to move it.  I've been working in a space within my home for the past 7 years.  I'm moving to a newly converted studio building about 10 blocks away from where I live in West Philadelphia.  My home studio is really great, but the time has come for a little more work space and separation between work and family life.



Can you describe your working routine?


With the impending move this is likely about to change drastically.  The past few years I have tended to make work in groups and often driven by external due dates related to exhibitions.  So it doesn't feel "routine" in the way that I imagine or idealize a routine to be.  In addition to my studio work I'm quite involved with running a small family business and parenting my three children.  I have to switch gears constantly all day every day.  However, my home studio has allowed me to be physically in the same place as my work at some point every day.  Whether or not I am working with my hands in the studio, I have been able to have a daily relationship to my art through actually seeing and considering it.



Can you describe your studio space and how, if at all, that affects your work?


My current and future studios both have plentiful daylight. I feel better and work best during the daytime (even though I also work at night). Daylight is a "light" kind of light. Light light vs. heavy light…whatever that means…that's what I go for in my work. Even in more darkly-colored work, I still want it light. Music is important in my space. I usually have headphones on when working. I keep some of my musical instruments in the studio, too. I title my paintings after lyrical phrases from the music I play when working.














Tell me about your process, where things begin, how they evolve etc.



Even though my current work may be categorized as geometric, I think I'm quite "gestural" in my approach to it. Almost every decision I make ultimately comes down to how it feels, or how I imagine that the result will feel to me physically. And when I say physically, let's not forget "optically." Seeing often gets connected to thinking very quickly…perhaps more quickly than any of the other senses. I want to stay as long as possible in the moment of feeling myself seeing. I feel best about my work when I feel myself wanting to keep looking at it for the feeling I get when I see it.
But to answer your question more directly. My process begins in the preparation (i.e. priming canvas), which typically plays a big role in in the outcome of the work. I begin work in groups and try to finish everything without abandoning it, though that has never been possible. I work with water-based media. My processes are completely additive. This means every decision made happens on the surface and is potentially/likely visible in the final state of the piece. Typically the beginning of my work is very fast and exciting, and then each work reaches a fulcrum of "unfinished balance." At this point I work on it most by looking at it, somewhat paralyzed by the unknown of what could happen next, because each new action has the potential to either clarify or ruin the work. This challenge compels me to keep coming back.






Fruitville installation, 2011
 
 
 
 
 
 
What are you having the most trouble resolving?



This past year I have dreamed about some paintings. In the dreams they are a beautiful outgrowth of what I am making now and it's very clear to me how I could make them. When I am in the studio, nothing I do produces what I remember the paintings in the dreams to be like, nor can I describe to you what they look like.

Do you experiment with different materials a lot or do you prefer to work within certain parameters?



I make work in several ways. I make wall-mounted wooden low relief objects, works on a particular vintage school-grade writing paper which was found and given to me by my dad, and more standard-format paintings on canvas and paper. My paintings are pretty straight-ahead/traditional in terms of materials. The other two bodies of work are already begun by nature of them being found and I bring all kinds of materials into the process with them. It took me a long time to personally reconcile that these three bodies of work all had equal value. But now it's comforting. It makes me feel like a multi-instrumentalist musician. If one day I don't have the energy for the fine points of violin, I can go bang on drums. It's still making music.

What does the future hold for this work?



Once I get my studio moved, there are a few "technical hunches" I want to follow as it relates to my paintings. But otherwise, I honestly have no idea.
 
 
 
 


Blank Space, 2013
 
 
 









Thursday, February 14, 2013

DAVID QUINN

'pewter18', 2012, gesso, tracing paper,
acrylic and crayon on board (20.5 x 13.3cm)



What are you working on in your studio right now?


I am working on a big piece which is made up of lots of small pieces . I am also trying out some new pieces which are moving towards sculpture.





Can you describe your working routine?


I don't have a particular routine. My wife is working as an art teacher at the moment and we have two young boys whom I mind a lot during the day, so usually whenever I am not doing that I  can get into the studio to do some work (doesn't really feel like work though).




Can you describe your studio space and how, if at all, that affects your work?


I am using a small bedroom in our house, its cosy and the light is good. My desk is facing the window, I like being able to look up every now and then and see people walking down the road. There is a golf course opposite the house so it feels more rural than it actually is. Its nice being able to go into "the studio" whenever an idea occurs to me. I have a shed at the end of the garden with a clear roof, the light is fantastic but its too cold to use in the winter.




Tell me about your process, where things begin, how they evolve etc.



 
For the past two years I have been working almost exclusively on panels which are 205 x 133mm. The starting point can be anything, a colour, a found piece of paper, another painting etc.. I work on a lot of pieces at the same time. I like being able to see as many of them as I can while I am working. They feed into and off each other, some sit for ages before coming to fruition others can come together quite quickly, the trick is knowing when to step back. I like to layer things up. I probably approach each piece more like a page in a notebook, that's why having lots is important, it means I don't get too precious and am not overly concerned about messing something up. I try to make the most of every mark or layer, look at it from a few different angles and think about how, if at all I could make something of it.This can mean sitting for ages just looking at the work. I want each piece to contain an element of the unexpected and for that to happen means not having too many plans beforehand. Working on a small scale and on lots of pieces at the same time means you can be a lot more spontaneous which I think is crucial if the work is to have life.  Within the parameters of the scale its a jumbled up unpredictable way of working and I try to let things take their own course although inevitably I probably repeat myself more than I am aware of.












What are you having the most trouble resolving?


The hardest thing for me is talking about and explaining what I do. I think a lot about painting but I don't know how much it helps. As regards the why? I haven't really been able to come up with an answer, all I know is that I feel frustrated when I cannot paint. In relation to actually making the work I know some see it in terms of problem solving, but for me its more about cultivating the right frame of mind, because when I am enjoying it things go well.



Do you experiment with different materials a lot or do you prefer to work within certain parameters?


I do experiment with materials although not as much as I used to because I know by now which ones give me what I want.  Some of what I do is collage and I will use anything if its the right texture/ colour etc. in the past I have used bubble wrap, tin foil, perspex, a laminating machine, shoe polish etc.(not that there is anything particularly original about this, Kurt Schwitters was doing something similar a hundred years ago). As regards painting materials I prefer waterbased for their speed of drying and because they're easier to get out of the carpet





'pewter17', 2012,  acrylic, collage and
crayon on paper on board (20.5 x 13.3cm)





What does the future hold for this work?


MOMA? only joking I hope to be able to submit the large piece for the RHAs annual summer exhibition in Dublin.



Is there anything else you would like to add?


It's great to see so much engaging quality abstract painting around at the moment.






'pewter1', 2012, acrylic and watercolour
on paper on panel (20.5 x 93cm) 


Monday, February 4, 2013

LESLIE WAYNE

 One Big Love # 74, oil on panel, 10 x 14.5", 2012
 

 
 
 
What are you working on in your studio right now?
 
 
I’m working on a couple of things. One is a group of paintings that are an extension of the “One Big Love” series that’s been ongoing since 2007. These new paintings are also on small shaped panels, but the shapes of these deliberately accentuate and exaggerate the weighty draping aspects of the paint.
 
The other series is a development from an earlier group of tall narrow vertical paintings where I used the format to stack layers of dimensional color as a metaphor for layers of geological time. In these new paintings I’ve gotten rid of the stacking, which is static and fixed, and instead am focusing on articulating moments of transformation. These panels are slightly wider at the bottom, giving a heightened sense of velocity.
 
I’ve also been working on a curatorial proposal that examines the work of three artists who use science and technology to articulate their personal relationships to nature in the context of a highly mediated and technological society. 
 
 
 
 




 
 
 
 
 
Can you describe your working routine?
 
 
I go to the studio every day from around 11AM – 5PM, unless I have other specific plans. I try to take care of any writing, administration or phone calling in the morning and get to work right after lunch. Having a computer at the studio however, is a blessing and a curse. I find it very hard to resist checking email and Facebook messages constantly!  
 
I generally have around 5 or 6 panels going on at a time, but they don’t all require the same amount of focus and deliberation. Some paintings simply need another layer of color applied and left to dry, where others call for some sort of resolution. The new vertical paintings particularly, offer me a welcomed opportunity to paint more a-la-prima passages that actually describe something happening graphically, which is not generally the case with my work. So this is something new that I’m excited about.





Rag # 13, oil on panel, 10 x 12.5", 2012
 
 
 
 
 
 
Can you describe your studio space and how, if at all, that affects your work?
 
 
I’ve had the same studio in Hell’s Kitchen since 1986. I share the floor with two other artists, of whom one is my husband, sculptor Don Porcaro. I came into the space after he and another painter were already established there, and it was impossible to redraw the studios without extensive rebuilding. So I have my workspace in one corner of the floor, and all my storage, flat files and the computer in another.
 
The work-space is about 12’ x 40’ with a bank of drafty windows facing the Hudson. A long work-table is up against the windows and I have a small desk on the opposite side. This gives me one long wall and a smaller wall at the North end of the space to hang paintings. I also keep a folding work-table out in the middle of the floor where I can have books open for reference and work on larger pieces. The South end of the studio has a small kitchen and some bookshelves.
 
If I had a wider space, it would allow me to designate a clean area to do works on paper while my paintings were in progress. I’ve on occasion done some small drawings without disturbing my painting setup. But for anything larger or more ambitious, I tend to switch gears completely until that body of work is finished. It’s not ideal.








 
 
 
 
 
 
Tell me about your process, where things begin, how they evolve etc.
 
 
I start with the given shape of a panel, which quite honestly determines nothing. But it gives me a starting point, which is more dynamic and demanding than a square or a rectangle. I tend to build up several layers of color over time, and once dry to the touch but still soft underneath, I’ll manipulate them in various ways. This is the point at which the painting begins to demand a resolution. If I can’t resolve it, I’ll scrape the whole thing off, or parts of it off and keep the paint for future use as collage material for another painting.  While I may have ideas or intentions in mind that relate to geology or gravity for example, or perhaps even the work of another artist, I find that my conceptual foundation solidifies and clarifies itself as a result of working over time and allowing the process be fluid. Otherwise I risk the seduction of staying in my comfort zone and that gets stale fast. It’s a balancing act of maintaining that perfect tension between anticipation, control and letting it go.
 
 
 
Leslie Wayne:Recent Work from John Reynolds & Lee Donaldson on Vimeo.





What are you having the most trouble resolving?


I often find it difficult to translate what I do into a graphic language that makes sense on paper. I’m not interested in making drawing versions of my paintings, so it would need to be something that feels conceptually and materially right. I find Ken Price to be a wonderful role model for that.



Do you experiment with different materials a lot or do you prefer to work within certain parameters?


I work almost exclusively in oil as I find its properties suit my need to manipulate the paint over long periods of time. Acrylic dries too fast for me to accomplish what I want.



What does the future hold for this work?


It’s hard to know. I always feel most excited about the newest work, but it’s very difficult to gage how I’ll feel in six months. Sometimes I think I’m ready for a show, and then I finish a new piece that so far surpasses the previous ones that I want to throw half of it away. I think I’m getting close to building enough to have my next show in another year. My last solo exhibition at Jack Shainman Gallery was 2010. Given their current program schedule and my other commitments, I think I’m about on target.

 
 

Untitled (yelloworangeteal),
oil on wood, 34 x7 ", 2013
 

 
 
 
 
 
Is there anything else you would like to add?

 
I periodically write down things I’ve read which strike a chord and I’d like to share some of them here. Thank you for this opportunity to engage with your readers.


“I keep trying to improve my control over language, so that I won’t have to tell lies.”
  Stanley Kunitz
 
“All relationships arise from the fact that reality is a magic poorly understood.”
  Frederick Sommer
 
“Think! Think! Think!”
  Winnie the Pooh
 
“People prefer that you condense; they find it quite natural for life to be condensed on films. . .they prefer that because they can catch onto the meanings and keep ahead of the movie. But that’s boring. I won’t make shorthand films. In my films there’s a competition with the audience to keep ahead of them.”
  John Cassavetes
 
 “Like art, film should be fake but completely believable. Faking is a ritual of representing.”
  Federico Fellini
 
 “Abstraction is precisely not grounded in universality, but in individual experience and sensibility…based on a process of invention and constant debate, not on corollaries for the discovery of existing truths.” It is about “the constant ‘correction’ or getting closer to absolute order…”
  Kirk Varnedoe
 
“The greatest art always returns you to the vulnerability of the human situation.” 
  Francis Bacon
 
“…paint as a structural element, not a surfacing.”
  Rob Storr on Elizabeth Murray
 
A technique is a technique of the body. It formulates and amplifies the metaphysical structure of our flesh.”
 Merleau Ponty
 
“It’s a long long preparation for a few moments of innocence.”
 Guston
 
 “[Guston’s painting is] not so much a picture as a direct imprint of duration. . .”
  Rob Storr on Guston
 
“(Asian paintings) made me wonder who I was. By contrast, Western painters tried to tell me who they were.”
 John McLaughlin
 
 “Art is the highest form of hope.”
  Gerhard Richter
 
“I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”
 S. Beckett
 
 “What matters in painting is pushing the mundane toward the instant of transcendence...”
   James Elkins
 
“The meaning of a sign is the response to it.”
  Dave Hickey
 
“Visceral responses to an image…are inevitably avenues to meaning.”
“Repetition lies at the heart of meaning…recognition is repetition.”
“[Joan] Mitchell wanted to hold on to her landscapes, to seize the ‘out there’ through the ‘in  here,’ to depict the mysterious flux of perception, not as it’s immediately seen, but as it’s remembered and felt in the body.”
 Siri Hustvedt, from “Mysteries of the Rectangle”
 
 
 


One Big Love #71, oil on panel, 10 x 14.5", 2012