TIZIANO MARTINI

Untitled, oil, acrylic, aluminum foil

& dispersion glue on canvas,

40 x 30 cm , 2011

What are you working on in your studio right now?

In the first paintings of 2011 the subjects were often objects or buildings. I find them fascinating because they contain their own story. In another group of paintings I relied purely on memories from places and events. I don't try to reproduce these recollections directly but endeavor to capture in my studio something that reminds me of the experience. During the last months I have been consumed by recording the effect of time on my work so I have tried to set a kind of timetable in my paintings. In my current works I am interested in what happens on the surface and underneath as it wares away from a treated surface, to raw canvas, to nothing. I am also very interested in the deterioration process of objects, in this case the surface of the canvas and the durability of a contemporary art piece. I'm working on a series of two-dimensional pieces, some of them on canvas, in which in a rational and conscious act, I take advantage of natural and accidental events such as weather, decay, and leaving deposits of earth.

Can you describe your working routine?

There is a difference between my life and the way I approach my work. In my daily life I try to have a routine, this makes me feel good and organized. I like to do something physical in the morning. After breakfast I go jogging, preferably in the woods, on soft ground. I need this contact with the nature. This helps me to concentrate during the afternoon when I work. However when I work I try to avoid order in every possible way. I prefer uncontrollable events or accidents. I try to avoid starting a painting from a point that I already know. A painting could start from a small drawing inspired from a walk through a snow track or from a detail of something I've seen. Forms from nature often influence me. Most of the time I don't have to go very far to find a point of interest. I often find enough inspiration a few steps out the door of my house.

Untitled, colour photography, 2011

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

The most important thing for me is to have a relatively empty space. The melancholia of an empty space appeals to me. There are places where I feel very secure and others where I feel deeply vulnerable however I cannot say which of the two would be better. I find that the studio space indirectly influences the work. A space can change your perception and approach. The space where you work can help to overcome the initial fear of starting, it can also give you the confidence to experiment. The studio space can give you a better understanding of your work and can also allow you to be more critical.

This is a special period in my life because I am a guest in an artist residency program in Leipzig called LIA (Leipzig International Art Program). Here I have a very large space, there are white walls, large windows and facilities to make the working process easier. Working here has been easier in comparison to where I usually work in Milan which is quite hectic or in Belluno which is an isolated place and sometimes uncomfortable. There are no excuses here in Leipzig not to work and no reason to complain.

Untitled, oil, aluminum foil

& dispersion glue on ruined canvas,

 40 x 30 cm , 2011

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

I find it hard to explain my painting approach because in the studio things happen very fast, often in a confusing and random way. The approach in my work can shift rapidly from day to day, even hour to hour. I find it difficult to work for an extended time in the same way. Since I do not use photos, sketches or direct references my starting point is always like diving into icy water. I am interested in the painting process and in how the surfaces are transformed by provoked accidents.

I like to work on different types of paintings simultaneously, with different materials and dimensions, this keeps things fresh and spontaneous. I like to think of my artwork as one continuous research more than a projection of my personality or personal life.  I do not like the idea of an art work as a representation of myself or another person.

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

There are so many problems to solve when I work. I often don't know where or how I could start a painting. The problem is whether or not to include some sort of narrative. I ask myself, 'is it still important that a painting has a kind of symbolic value? Is the image still the protagonist of the painting?' Perhaps the most important thing for me is to have an immediate and tactile experience whilst painting. I try to limit my involvement with the painting and to avoid giving the painting any personal references. The work is the result of a process.

Installation view, Crash & Cut Up, studio Cannaviello, Milan

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

I use several different types of materials, every new color and material gives me alternative possibilities. This constant exploration of materials allows for the unexpected to happen. I could probably use alternative mediums like video or performance to create my artwork but I don’t know much about those mediums. I use painting because it is the medium that I am familiar with. 

For example in a recent work I used a kind of textile called non – woven. I found this piece near my village in Italy, in the mountains. This piece retained all kinds of natural residues for more than a decade by being exposed to the elements and time. Nature transforms the surface, the result being a layering of information that has very painterly and abstract aesthetic. This piece is also very fragile, pieces of earth are constantly coming away from the material and the surface will continue to change with time.

Untitled, soil, sand plant debris,

fine particles & acrylic primer on non woven,

mounted on wooden stretcher

each 290 x 190 cm , 2011

What does the future hold for this work?

I feel a little anxious about this subject at the moment because I am in a situation where my work could take any direction, something very unexpected could happen, this feeling both scares and excites me. I would love to be less concerned about this subject. I need to continue to experiment and to further question my work. I think it's important to be open to falling into the unknown and not being afraid. I'd like to push my work even further beyond its limits, for me a medium becomes interesting when we abuse and mistreat it.

Is there anything else you would like to add?

Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to talk about my work!

Untitled, oil & acrylic on canvas, 70 x 50 cm , 2011

BECKY YAZDAN

Looking for diesel - found a sleeping coyote,

9 x 12 ", oil on clayboard, 2011

What are you working on in your studio right now?

I just started a series of larger paintings. I have been working small for the last few years and felt it was time to return to working on a larger scale. I love the intimacy of holding a painting in my hand and being close to the surface and paint, but have missed the more physical experience of working larger.

Can you describe your working routine?

I work on several paintings at once. I have a rack of unresolved paintings, a wall of work in progress, a wall of paintings that are marinating (resting to see if they are finished or not) and a wall of completed work that I am still thinking about and working from.

The first part of my day at the studio is spent drinking coffee, looking at the work and moving things around. A painting that made it to the wall of completed work may end up back in marination or back to the purgatory of the unresolved rack. Starting is often the hardest part and if I just can't face the paintings I will clean, organize, and prepare new surfaces until I find a way in.

studio view

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

My studio is in one of the few remaining old buildings near the waterfront in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I've been in the space for 6 or 7 years and have watched as the old industrial buildings are taken down and replaced with shiny new condos -- the Old Dutch Mustard Company came down brick by brick, and now the Con Ed plant across the way is an empty lot. Living and working in this neighborhood plays a key role in my work. On my walk to the studio I see the East River and Manhattan skyline, the Williamsburg Bridge and the new high-rise buildings. The Domino Sugar Factory looms empty and and dark, and its overgrown yards are littered with piles of pipes and random pieces of garbage. I work with ambient memories and these visual stimuli act as a structure on which to hang my ideas. While painting I often meditate on the passage of time and the resulting deterioration. Williamsburg is a living, breathing example of this constant cycle of destruction and creation and it mirrors my creative process -- building up the canvas then scraping everything away to try to get at some truth or understanding of a larger system at work.

Swarm , 14 x 18 ", oil on clayboard, 2011

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

When I start a painting I don't have any idea what the end result will be -- I follow the painting's lead. They often begin with a color or shape idea that is related to a memory of something I saw, read about or experienced. This can be something as simple as what I had for breakfast or as difficult as the loss of a loved one. If things are going well the associations will continue. Some paintings happen very fast, and others take years to resolve. They often don't make sense to me until well after they are completed. The titles of the paintings are words or phrases that come up while I am working and they are an integral part of the process.

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

It has been challenging to return to the larger canvases. If I am working with difficult subject matter I feel very exposed. 

work in progress wall

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

I am predominantly an oil painter, but occasionally other materials make their way in -- scraps of fabric, thread, a page from a book, etc.

What does the future hold for this work?

I can't wait to find out!

Is there anything else you would like to add?

Thanks for asking me these questions. Writing is an important part of my practice (that I have been neglecting) and it feels good to get my ideas organized. 

Di Suvero Swing,

8 x 10 ", oil on clayboard, 2011

IAIN NICHOLLS

Fall rise, acrylic & oil on board, 18 x 18", 2011

What are you working on in your studio right now?

I have just finished the last of a group of small acrylic and oil paintings on board which I am about to show at Transition Gallery in London opening December 2^nd. I have done 25+ since August and am happy with 10 of them of which the painter Phillip Allen who is curating the show will choose his favourite 5.  Two other painters, Mark Joyce and William Gharrie are also showing work. It should be a good one.

Can you describe your working routine?

I try and find any excuse not to paint! So I get up early in order to accommodate my excuses, and get these ‘necessary things’ out of the way: I go to the shop for the paper, drink coffee, watch breakfast television, read Facebook and any Emails and reply (in detail) to any (thank God I have kept away from Twitter!), eat some toast, have ‘just one more coffee’ etc. etc. until there really isn’t anything left to do except go and paint.

 I paint in the garage at home so when I do go to paint I start straight away. There is no sitting around, no chatting (there’s no one to chat to), no drawing or preparation as that gets done in the house at other times and I know roughly how I’m going to get going, so I just start. With these small paintings I paint very quickly and intensely in about one and a half hour bursts. I usually get about 3 of these intense painting bursts done a day, give or take.

I don’t know why it’s always one and a half hours at the moment but it is. Bigger paintings take longer but that’s nothing to do with them being harder to do. With big paintings the paint application involves a bigger area which takes longer to fill, and you only see the whole of the painting by pausing and stepping back so the whole process takes longer.  

Marker on acetate, 2011

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

I am a very untidy messy painter. Once I get going I can’t keep stopping and starting to keep my stuff organized and orderly as it breaks up my thinking. I seem to always have a tin of brush restorer on the go as I lose brushes in the mess and when they reappear they are hard! I am my own worst enemy but I have tried to change and keep tidy and it just isn’t me. There is no natural light in the garage but that has never bothered me as my paintings don’t rely on subtlety much (not to me anyway). Also, it’s a good test if the paintings can stand out surrounded by mess and lit by strip lighting. This doesn’t mean they should gravitate towards being bright and garish – more that they somehow are more alive, a special arrangement of the matter they have come from, i.e. the mess which is all rounds them.

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

I get ideas from anything I might see, think about, read, watch on television, and I distill all this into drawing, mainly in my sketchbook, most often at night – watching television. These days I need a specific idea to start a painting from and these come from the drawings. When I say ‘idea’ this is a very loose term. It could be just a colour or pattern or a real thing I want to paint, a memory or something stupid, anything really, but mainly from the drawings.

I used to paint like I draw – just making it up and seeing where it goes, but now I need an anchor point or two. With drawing it’s just about doodling until an idea takes shape, then making this idea clear, then that’s it – the drawing is finished. There are no changes other than additions because it is biro or ink pen, so I can’t fuss over it erasing like you can with pencil or paint. Any mistakes have to be made into a positive influence to the drawing somehow and this often sends the drawing off on a different tangent. Drawing isn’t a problem; it’s just using my imagination, getting ideas out, playing with them to make something new and making them clear. This would be enough but paint and colour are special and addictive. Once enough drawings are done to generate ideas for about a dozen paintings, I start painting.

When I paint, like drawing I just want to get my imagination working, playing with ideas, going off on tangents etc. I don’t want to refine and polish what I know, but I do want to paint with the least resistance possible and still end up with something I haven’t seen before, that surprises me, and puzzles me and that I learn from.  But what stops me doing this, the resistance, was (and is) the making of the painting: the adjustment of colour, the relationships of shapes, the edge of the painting, dealing with painting as being flat but a real space., etc. etc.

Some artists ignore these problems, but to me dealing with them and trying to get past to a new thing is the whole point. In trying to do this painting is stopped from stagnating and ending up in a dead end, and becoming at best the painting equivalent of a tribute band.

 It’s only been in this last year or so that I have started getting somewhere I think. I have started relaxing a bit, thinking of each painting not having to be perfect, the be all and end all but just as one of a series. This lets me be more playful because if it fails its OK, there is always another painting. I have began painting on large boards with 5 or 6 ‘areas’ of painting which each have their own start off idea but with no fixed edges. This lets me just concentrate on using my imagination, playing with the ideas etc. I can work on all these areas of painting at once and they sometimes merge or split so it’s a very fluid process.

Along the way I photograph the work if I am not sure of something and try changes using the computer. But these are only big changes, or collaging separate paintings together or dramatic colour tests. Eventually the areas of paint become clearer in what they are trying to say to me and more separate from each other. I then cut them up and work on them as separate paintings and only then consider things like the edge, how the space is working etc. But these final decisions are painted in a much less panicked way as most of the paintings main idea(s) and its structure is there. Recently I have gone back to making paintings with edges on fixed sizes again and it feels a lot less frustrating now.  

before & after

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

Reading my description of this process of painting sounds like all things are resolved and sorted. They aren’t! The hardest thing to resolve and which I am a long way off doing, is to try and develop an approach that allows me to paint anything, any subject or idea, without having to be detached; so I am painting from the heart as well as the mind, with equal measure.

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

Poster paints were the first paints I used and my earliest memory is of painting in front of the fire a ‘mural’ on some wallpaper of the local park for my sister who was at university and I was off school poorly with the mumps. My sister still has it and the ‘mural’ is actually only about 2 foot long, but me being 4 or 5 I can’t have been much longer either, so it still seems in my memory to have been huge! The poster paints were in small glass bottles by Rowney and were pre-mixed. You can’t get them in glass bottles now but I still love using pre-mixed pots of poster paint for their smell and their squidgyness which you can’t get from acrylic and gouache – although I use those as well now. I use oils with Turpentine and Jacksons Glaze Medium which gives a lovely glow to the paint without it being like a varnish and makes it flow better and dry quicker.

I pretty much just draw with black biro and ink pens but recently I have been drawing on large A1 sheets of acetate with permanent marker pens and using nail varnish remover as an eraser. This is great as you can draw on both sides and reverse the image and draw but also rub out and leave a trace of the rubbing, and also rub out perfectly if you want, so it’s a bit like painting but also like ink drawing.

As I say I also use the computer to test out large changes to paintings without ruining them. I also have a Nintendo DS and got the ‘Art Academy’ for it which is a brilliant little paint program – lots of fun. It’s the only paint program I know of that has great painting sound effects! Unfortunately you can’t get images printed from it so I will probably get an iPad at some point.

Ink on paper, 2011

What does the future hold for this work?

I want to do lots of different things which I have been thinking about over the last year and will give me a break from my ‘usual’ painting, which I can then come back to later next year ‘refreshed’. I want to make some sculpture on a flat board like a model railway landscape using plaster of Paris, bandaging, clay, plastic – anything. Like a diorama to be able to do what I want with. I don’t think it will be a thing in itself, viewed from any angle like a sculpture or installation. It might be just in a corner viewed from one angle. I might do landscape paintings from it. I also want a digital projector to be able to paint more accurate areas on my paintings but without having to slow down and worry about accuracy. I want to use photographs, my own drawings and paintings, and I want to be able to use it to do things that are impossible any other way like photographing a half finished painting, then projecting it onto itself and painting itself into itself recursively, and distorting itself somehow in between maybe using the computer. I also want to try painting on the acetate sheets I have and seeing what happens there with reversing them and layering and tracing etc. I have been painting all my adult life but I am still in the dark quite a bit about what’s out there in terms of materials and methods and have been recommended a couple of books on the subject which I want to read.  

Is there anything else you would like to add?

It’s great to have been asked to write this. I don’t normally put all this down in words and only occasionally talk like this to others, as do most artists I think. I hope it sort of makes sense!

Desert, acrylic & oil on board, 12 x 12", 2011

PETER SHEAR

Untitled, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 12 x 9 "

What are you working on in your studio right now?

I’ve been working much of the year on a cycle of smaller paintings, most between 8 x 10” and 11 x 14”. In between works on paper are being made and unmade.

Can you describe your working routine?

I have a working/not working routine. There are periods of a month or two where I’m in the studio painting or drawing for some substantial amount of time every day and this continues until I reach an impasse and am forced to regroup. But what I really like is to be in the rut of work and it makes me nervous to not be making anything.

I’m relatively disciplined in my work habits but only in order to have massive room to mess around, get bored, stare into the abyss and freak out. If I’ve worked the previous day I’ll go into the studio once light is decent and see what I’ve done. Artists know this is a horrible thing. Unless a piece needs immediate attention there’s a period of coffee drinking and padding around, cleaning brushes, cleaning the cat litter box, reading a little, spacing out on the internet, trying to get a feel for what I’m working on. Maybe I try to ignore the work and just live with it. Maybe a painting suddenly reveals itself as complete if I can catch it off guard. This happens.

I like to listen to podcasts of interviews or lectures while I’m working. Sometimes music but mostly not— music is always perfect and just totally convincing. My hand is too easily led by it. I like the clumsiness of speech which is more in sympathy with my approach to painting. Voices are engaging in a way that keeps me somewhat detached from the work at hand and that small remove allows for just enough criticality on my part.

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

I’ve never had a dedicated studio and have always worked at home—right now I use a spare bedroom in an apartment shared with my girlfriend. It’s multi-purpose, so things accumulate, disappear and later resurface.

When I first became ‘serious’ about art-making as a vocation I was drawing with a charcoal pencil and all I needed was a table. When I began painting a little while later I couldn’t get used to an easel and stayed on the table. My studio is strictly okay but my table is amazing.

All of the spaces I’ve worked in have been small and I make small work, and this condition of working in living spaces has affected deeply the way I relate to paintings as objects in the world. I’m interested in making THINGS which address the smaller, uglier, intimate spaces where our private lives play out. I relate differently to work on a smaller scale, and a small canvas or bit of paper is an incredibly sensitive recording device. That said I’m eager to make some huge paintings.

Careful, 2011, acrylic & glitter on canvas, 8 x 10"

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

Beginning with a blank canvas there’s usually the desire to finish a piece in one go, and I do try, and I do fail most of the time. Maybe if a painting feels done I’ll hang it up and go to sleep that night very satisfied. And then over a period of hours or days the work dies on the wall, or just keeps repeating the same joke. But if it can get off the wall and walk away, a painting is done; then it’s my job to interview it and see if it knows anything about the next painting. Vija Celmins said she knows a work is nearing completion when it begins to push back; I relate to that measure completely—a sense of fullness.

Most of the time in the studio, however, I’m not dealing with beginnings but with work in progress. Sometimes images are allowed to evolve organically but more often I’ll paint everything out that isn’t working. The discarded image is still there; the memory is still there influencing the painting but it informs indirectly.  For the genesis of images I’ve often restricted myself to the very familiar—lines, dots, simple shapes. As general and inclusive a vocabulary as possible. It’s become increasingly important to leave behind an image to which no concrete meaning can be attached, only possibility. I’ll put some things down, have a look, paint around them and paint them out. There are all these intuitive, oblique strategies improvised to bring me possibly to a place where I can make a really great mistake and then things can get going. I’m not as interested in the hand of an artist as I am the eye; the ability to remain sufficiently present while painting in order to recognize that (suddenly!) a composition is done, regardless of preconceived notions.

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

I’ve often worried about the finish of a work. Finish or finished? First thought best thought? Myron Stout tweaks for years? Nozkowskian tectonics? All are interesting and feel pretty good. A range of such strategies is something we’re often led to believe is problematic within one’s work and I repeatedly remind myself that it isn’t true, that a fucked up mixture speaks more honestly to an experience of being in the world.

I also wonder a lot about the wide open spaces between intentionality and reception—I mean, this is an afterthought, not a painting-thought. My painting thoughts are less than verbal. But it’s such a curious thing—from time to time I get some image down that satisfies me in a deep and totally ineffable way, and then for what reason do I need other people to see it? To have a comparable experience, maybe. That’s how I look at other peoples’ work.

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

At times the work calls for strict controls. There was a period from 2007-2009 when I first began using gouache and used it full-strength from the tube, making quasi hard-edged, geometric paintings (lines were ruled out but not taped so it was like a one-shot performance, performing the edge). I was maybe setting out to establish a baseline for myself. Prior to all the right angles I was painting Joan Mitchells, or Joan de Koonings, really. That was a cool time because I had no idea what I was doing and no idea what they had been doing, and it was enough just to be influenced. The time of the right angles was like political reeducation and in the end I became really fearful of doing anything without a ruler. Lessons learned. When I did reintroduce more gesture I found I’d gained some knowledge about control and economy of means that was initially lacking. Early on I wasn’t making choices when they needed to be made.

Untitled, 2011, acrylic & glitter on canvas, 9 x 12"

What does the future hold for this work?

The next work. I’ve gotten myself to a place where the drawings and paintings are really generative, and the bonus prize is that individual pieces have become less precious to me. I’m interested in the dialogue among works from the past year; some are rather severe and others are very chatty and outgoing. I didn’t anticipate the latter but am pretty curious. I’ll find out what’s going on.

Is there anything else you would like to add?

Thank you for creating a platform for this sort of exchange! Artists gain so much from blogs like yours. It’s fabulous to be forming communities outside of a particular geography—strange and new and absolutely positive.