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

 

 

 

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) 

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

LISA PRESSMAN

Transcending, 24 x 24", oil on wood, 2012-2013

 

 

 

 

 

What are you working on in your studio right now?

 

I have several series of works in progress. Lately doors, windows and even figures are emerging in the work. Most of the time I paint over them. The metaphor of inside /outside has always interested me. Lately, I have been investigating an image suggests a bag, a purse, a container.   ….  I having researching Indian medicine bags and I relate to their healing and spiritual nature. I don’t mind the baggage metaphor as we all have some kind of baggage that we carry around. I have been exploring a change in my palette and scale. There are 10 8” x 6” s, which are small for me, along with the larger works.

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

Can you describe your working routine?

 

 

I have days that I am in the studio, days that I am teaching, and days that I’m doing the business end of art, so I don’t know if I have an actual routine. If it is a studio day, I am in there in the morning and usually start with straightening up and figuring out what I am going to work on. It is a warm up time. I have concentrated bursts of focused time. I have never been one to paint for hours on end, yet the time I spend making serves me well. Working on many pieces at a time allows me such freedom not to think and just make. Recently a friend of mine joked that I can make a painting in a day. I laughed. I am happy that my work appears to be so fresh and alive but one day does not create a painting. I have been focusing on not overworking my paintings so stopping and starting again is key  to their development. There is a huge gestation time for most pieces. They sit around for weeks, or months until I get back to them and know how to “resolve” them. I always have multiple paintings around in various stages. Most of the work is done in a series and the paintings converse with each other, yet each piece is a completed idea and image on its own. For me, working in a series helps to expand the image idea making and keeps the work fresh.

"There are numerous paintings “percolating”

around in stacks and on the walls today."

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

I am working in my garage, which is a good space in the spring and summer but is pretty cold in the winter. I like that my studio is attached to my house but has a separate entrance.  However, I do not have much natural light and look forward to a studio with big windows and some space.  I am slowly outgrowing my space.

 

 

 

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

 

 

My working routine and process are pretty close. I am at a point in my art making where I feel I have my tool belt pretty well stocked with a vocabulary, ideas, materials, and inspirations. I try to trust that and stay out of my own way. Work begins as play, play with great freedom and without judgment. Evolution comes from looking and paying careful, intuitive attention to what is happening in the work. If I am listening, my work tells me my story. My visual memory and interpretation of the world are more perceptive and in tune than my intellect. I believe in the idea of the spiral. Images and ideas that I have investigated in the past reappear again and again in a different form at different times. I have found my photographs to be very helpful, not as something to work from, but as an indicator of how I see the world. The most important part of my process is looking, editing and of course, deciding when a painting is done. One of my favorite times is coming back to the studio after a day of working to see the work again in a new light.

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled, 11 x11", mixed media on mylar 2012

 

Untitled, 11 x11", mixed media on mylar 2012

 

 

 

 

 

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

 

 

I have trouble having faith in my process. Although I understand the way I work, I have to fight the doubts, judgments and feelings of that not being enough. This is resolved by just being able to move forward and continue working, and trusting that “not knowing,” which is the place I visit all the time in my work, is “knowing” in my world.

 

 

 

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

 

 

I come from experimenting with many materials. I have used clay, wood, nails, paper mache, pastels, charcoal, acrylic, oil, cold wax and encaustic throughout the years. Right now I am working on oil and cold wax pieces, encaustic paintings that include collage, ink and pastel and a series with graphite on vellum.
I enjoy the characteristics’ of each medium and switching it up activates different approaches. For me working with encaustic allows for a very quick build up of layers and many possibilities for scraping and excavating into the work, but it is a very focused intense process. When I paint with oils I have an expansive experience. There is expressiveness to the application of the paint and the moving around it is exciting. Lately I have been using scrapers, brayers, tools and monoprinting to move and mark with the paint. I am working on a new grouping drawings on vellum. Working with graphite, erasers, pastels is liberating as a visual thinking process.

 

 

 

 

 

The Dark,  8 x6”, oil on  board, 2013

 

 

 

 

What does the future hold for this work?

 

 

I am preparing for a solo show at The Rosenfeld Gallery in September 2013. I have other shows in the works but which are not confirmed.  The work is changing as I write. I just had a great day in the studio.


 

Is there anything else you would like to add?

Thanks, Valerie, for this opportunity to talk about my current work and process!

Spirit Bag 3, oil on wood, 24 x 24", 2013



 

 

 

ERIN LAWLOR

Untitled, oil on canvas,116x89cm, 2012

 

 

 

 

What are you working on in your studio right now?

 

 

Mainly a series of oils on paper right now. I'm about to move, so I'm a little wary of bulk at the moment. Storage is always an issue. I'll be working in the countryside for a month or two in between moves and I'm looking forward to working on some large canvases there.

 

 

 

Can you describe your working routine?

 

 

I work most days, simply because I'm not a very nice person to be around when I don't, although how much time I have is very variable, with my other jobs and having kids. There's always an in-between time of doing nothing when I first arrive in the studio. I often start by finishing up the crossword puzzle I've started on the way up in the bus. It's funny but I know a couple of painters who do that and I suppose there's something visually satisfying and no doubt reassuring about a finished crossword. I suppose we all have our different ways of appropriating the space and re-appropriating the work itself. It takes a bit of time, looking at what's in there, what interests me in what's gone before, what I'll allow to survive and what hasn't made it through the night. Coffee, and cigarettes. So many rituals of approach, and the inevitable preparation of paint, brushes…There's an in-between time, which is more about setting aside the outside world and a letting go than it is about any technical preparation. At some point I turn the music up loud and just get on with it, and stop when I run out of light or time or floor-space.






Erin Lawlor - Paris 2013 from Calvin Walker on Vimeo.

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

I've been working basically in the same studio for the last sixteen years, one room with lots of light and a very leaky roof in eastern Paris. It's small, which inevitably effects the size of what I do there, and even the amount - as I work on the ground there quickly comes a point when there's just no more room, I have to wait for things to dry sufficiently to lift them up. Luckily, although I work in oil, the dissolvent I use considerably speeds up the drying time, so that's not quite as constraining as it may sound.

I only work in oil up there, and the whole place is covered in it, the floor is encrusted with a build-up from over the years, a bit like a Eugene Leroy painting. I sometimes work in a slightly bigger space out in the countryside, and I do find it easier to work on the larger pieces there, partly because I can have a few down at the same time, even if I still tend to work on them one after another rather than going back and forth. I also find there's a freedom in that it's less encumbered with past works; whether it's that or the fact that it's further south means that I find it easier there not to overwork, or over-stifle the colors. I don't yet know where or what my next studio space will be, so I'm curious myself to see if and how it will affect the work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

One painting very much leads to another. There's a certain amount of background work that goes on before I get down to the nitty-gritty, so that takes the pressure off the starting point, helps the warming-up process. It's not that these don't matter- they do, in terms of initial choices of format, tonal values, but it's a build-up over days or weeks. There's a gradual build-up before the culminating phase of work. I think it was de Kooning who said that painting a picture was like crossing the road, and at some point I find I have to just have to propel myself into it and take the leap. In that final phase it's more a question of being attentive to what's going on in the canvas for me, there's an internal logic that's takes over, the moment Guston described as leaving even yourself at the door. And of course I never know it is the final phase. Despite the quick drying times there's a few days when I can still erase the whole thing and start over, and I do that constantly. It's only over time that I ever know if I think a piece is really finished. And even then, not so much finished, as satisfactory, if it has life of its own, and one that interests me. I self-edit constantly, destroy a lot, I'm very wary of complacency.

 

The changes there are are gradual ones, I'm not really aware of any ruptures as such. I know my colors have got brighter recently, perhaps the influence of my recent trip to California for a show, but I think it was on its way prior to that, perhaps more a question of confidence. And I sense there's a freeing-up at the moment, of the brushwork and space, as well as the chromatic range, but again its a gradual evolution.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What are you have most problem resolving?

 

 

I'm not sure I really think of things in those terms, at least not any more. I certainly don't have the conceit to believe I'm resolving anything, and it's the endless fascination with paint, and what transpires on the canvas, and precisely the things I don't control, that keep me wanting to go into the studio every day, and that have brought me to the point I'm at now. Over the years I think I've begun to accept the fact of being the painter that I am, rather than the painter I'd perhaps had an idea I would have liked to have been when I started out, and that perhaps makes it less of a struggle as such. A recent stint at curating brought that home to me, too, working with other artists, bringing together other people's work and highlighting dialogue's between them, makes it that much easier to come to terms with all the valid and interesting directions I don't take in my own work.

 

Of course there have been various technical issues, over the years, finding a satisfactory replacement for turps, which I developed an allergy to. And size - the relationship to space and volume changes dramatically according to format, but those are points of exploration and interest, and choices, at the end of the day, rather than problems as such. The only constant struggle, again, is probably complacency, avoiding the facile, trying to go beyond what works merely in terms of color and composition to something that has presence or sense of its own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

I experiment very little with other materials, at least not in the studio. I came back to painting through a love of oil, I'm an oil junkie, the endless possibilities of color, the light changing with the direction of the brushstroke, but also the texture and smell of it. I draw and paint with felt-pens or ink outside the studio, but that's through being an obsessive mark-maker. And I do some work on silk, and ceramics, but those are parallel activities to me, rather than part of the process, even if they are inevitably informed by what goes on in the studio, and vice versa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What does the future hold for this work?

 

 

As far as the work in progress is concerned, I have no idea which will survive or where they'll go next, but surely that's the point?

 

On a practical level, some will hopefully be heading out to the States. I've recently started working with the George Lawson gallery in L.A. and he's just opened a new space in San Francisco. There are also a couple of group shows coming up in France in the next few months. Inevitably a lot will be going into storage at least for now while I work out exactly where I'm going next myself…

 

 

 

Is there anything else you would like to add?

 

 

Just thank you for inviting me - I've discovered the work of so many wonderful painters through your blog.

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled, oil on canvas, 65x50cm, 2012

JEN HITCHINGS

All Hail Tequila, 2012, oil on wood, 16 x 20"

 

 

 

 

What are you working on in your studio right now?

 

 

Right now, I'm working on a slightly new body of paintings, both oil and acrylic, on medium-sized canvas and wood. The new work has become a lot more psychotic, psychedelic, and a combination of dream-like and nightmarish than it used to be. Words have very recently made their way into the paintings, as of the most recent two. I've also just started experimenting with iridescent and metallic paints. Gold and silver do amazing things with light and give a lot of dimension to the scenes I create.

 

 

 

Can you describe your working routine?

 

 

I use my studio as both a place to paint and an exhibition space to show other artists. Which is a lot more work than I thought it would be. I unfortunately only paint during "open hours," two nights a week, and sometimes on Mondays, my day off from work. Luckily, I work at Pierogi in Williamsburg, so I'm around amazing art and artists there anytime that I'm not making work and doing "normal" things that people have to do day to day.

 

 

 

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

 

 

My studio is in Bushwick, which is amazing because I'm surrounded by artists and galleries. I paint and keep all of my work and supplies in about 80 square feet. Between working full-time, doing studio visits, and trying to see other shows, my life feels a little hectic at times. I think the craziness and thus anxiety makes its way into the paintings too.

 

 

 

 

BitchRide, 2012, Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 24"

 

 

 

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

 

 

I paint from photographs, usually of a group of people at a party or some kind of celebration. They're always of very sporadic and candid moments. I'll usually draw from the photograph first, and then make the painting from the drawing. The first moments on the canvas are always the most terrifying for me. I'll sometimes paint an irrelevant landscape, or use a palette inspired by some image in my studio to start. Once the canvas is covered with paint, I'll start painting from the drawing. A lot of things in the original photograph make it into the painting, proportions are often accurate, but during the process of painting many objects/figures grow and become attached to one another.

 

 

 

What are you having the most trouble resolving?

 

 

I often find it hard to know when a painting is done. It's something I always ask other artists, and I feel like there should be some answer, but in reality there probably is not. Once I stop working on something for about a week, I usually can't bring myself to touch it again. I also am battling with scale. The paintings are slowly getting larger, because I'd like to eventually paint large, but have tried and failed many times. Working from 4x6" photographs makes me feel like the paintings have to stay small and intimate, but I don't want to limit myself to that constraint.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

I prefer to work with paint on wood or canvas, though there are a million things I would like to try to do. I get too nervous about jumping into a completely unknown terrain, so I normally take baby steps. I hated acrylic until I received a ton of free acrylic paint, and decided to try it, so that's a start. I'd love to try working with ceramics. Allison Schulnik, who's by far my most admired painter, makes these beautiful fired ceramics and they really made me want to experiment with the 3-dimensional world.

 

 

 

 

 

One side of WEEKNIGHTS during the current exhibition,

WHY SO SERIOUS? Exhibiting the work of 30 artists

 

 

 

 

 

 

What does the future hold for this work?

 

 

I hope to make a lot more of this kind of work, enough to have a solo show, within the next few months. There's currently 5 pieces, and I need more than that. A friend of mind kindly asked me to put some work up at Mama Joy's, a new soul-food-esque restaurant and really cool bar in Bushwick, and that will be the first time they are exhibited together, which I'm excited about.

 

 

 

Is there anything else you would like to add?

 

 

I really appreciate the opportunity to share my artistic experience on Studio Critical! Also, in the months of running the exhibition space in my studio, called WEEKNIGHTS, I've made some amazing friendships and have had SO much fun at the openings. I don't even have words to describe how grateful and appreciative I am of the support that I've received. Any other artists out there are welcome to submit work, and of course to view exhibitions. Information can be found here.

Adolescence, 2012, oil on canvas, 18 x 30 inches