Truro, 2009 15x20 inches
Although my show on Cape Cod isn’t until August, if you’re in Chatham, you can see new paintings at the Munson Gallery on Main Street. They will have six new Truro paintings in inventory the first week of June.
D&L (red), 2009 16x20 inches
I was in DC last week and I spent a half day at the National Gallery looking at paintings with another artist. We talked a lot about how the eye has patterns for traveling through paintings as it searches for “rewards”. Rewards could be certain colors or shapes. This searching goes back to survival and the need to quickly assess our surroundings for food, danger, mates, etc…I doubt anyone thinks much about this when they go to a museum or gallery. But considering these sorts of ideas is very much the subtext of good painting - certainly the kind of painting that I like: Corot, Guston, Vuillard, Chardin. Circulation and the their concern for the physical experience of the two dimensional picture is what separates those artists from their contemporaries.
When I was back in the studio I changed the painting above by adding the red circle; it was a purely instinctive move a way of altering the the other colors through the introduction of a new one. ( I also wonder if the time in between the painting of various areas doesn’t offer an interesting record of time passing.) Maybe when our eye is doing it’s dance through a painting, on a very subtle level we’re looking for the traces and records that speak to both it’s construction and it’s capturing of time.
The red speaks to one other thing. There’s no question that when we find black or white in a painting, we better understand the luminosity in the picture. There’s also a belief that without red, our understanding and perception of the other colors is very limited. Still more hard-wiring that goes back to survival?
A new NY Times article about artists and the recession has a quote that is catching fire in blogs. Portland, ME, artist, Liz Fallon says: “Nobody wants me to do anything, so I’m just doing what I want”. I’m a little confused by the emphasis the Times places on this quote. Aren’t artists supposed to do what they want all of the time? I thought that was the whole idea of being on your own, expressing yourself, being an arrrrteeeest…So was Liz someone different when the commissions were rolling in and now she’s herself???? Sorry if I sound cynical; a little anxiety, uncertainty and fear do a body good. Take those things away and you have no Milton Resnick.
D & L, 2009 16x20 inches
I posted several new paintings today. Look under the paintings tab above.
Alta Plaza #5 (Red) 18x24 inches
Since so many new paintings sold at the Open Studio I thought I should post one more that hasn’t been seen yet. This is Alta Plaza #5 (Red) - just finished yesterday…
Alta Plaza #3 (Pelican), 2009 oil/linen 20x24 inches
This new painting is the third in a series from Alta Plaza Park in San Francisco. Alcatraz is spanish for Pelican. My studio opens tomorrow at 11:00 if you want to be the first to see it. Call if you need directions: 650-537-1493
PS The shadow on the building may read as green-gray or violet depending on your screen calibration. In life the shadow is soft green-gray.
Monteroni (Colza), 2009 14x18 inches
It’s looking like there will be a number of new paintings from Italy finished for the Open Studio. There will also be work from Scandinavia, Cape Cod, Germany and Austria. I just added a few new images to the site. Click on the paintings tab above.
Zachary Zavislak
My good friend, Zac, took the photo in sunday’s NY Times Food section. You can see more of his photos here.
Mantua Greens, 2009 18x18
My studio will be open May 1-3, 11-5pm. There will be new work from Italy and perhaps Germany and Austria.
Address:
4000 Middlefield
South Palo Alto
Building E, Room 5
Torrenieri, 2007 14x20 inches
I’ll be heading back to Italy in about a week and yesterday when I was at my son’s piano recital I kept thinking about my trip. The music loosened my mind and I wandered back to the old question about what it is that makes Italy and in particular, Tuscany, unique. In many ways, I go back year after year to reconsider this essential question. The British philosopher, Alain de Botton, would probably argue that a lot of the difference comes from us. In his wonderful book, The Art of Travel, he challenges us not only to explain why we choose to travel, but also to articulate what it is that makes a place attractive or memorable and special. Often, any discussion of Italy comes around to the word light. When we travel we “have our eyes on” - experiences of light and color become different and heightened simply because we’re paying attention. Nevertheless, the question remains, is the light really unique or different?
Maybe the idea of light is a bit too simple for describing the complex emotion Toscana evokes in almost everyone. Can’t we do better than light to explain the magic and power of what we feel in an intimate Italian piazza or a massive Tuscan field? The word space might be a good starting point. The Tuscan space is remarkably active and diverse and when you get familiar with it, it becomes a giant still-life that forever nudges you to notice it’s many faces. The compact, treeless, Tuscan villages contrast with the expansive vineyards and fields. The fields seem to change not by the season, but by the day or hour. Yet the villages seem to never change as they hold nature and time at bay. Tuscan buildings are often the same earth or clay color found in the plowed fields. Even if the houses are painted, the colors, soft roses or yellows, tend to have the same value as the earth. There’s something undeniable going on; something that is bigger than the calendars, wine labels, postcards, guide books and pasta. But what is it?
