More About Surrealism

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know I paint mostly Western landscapes, especially desert scenes. But I'm a surreal sort of person, too. I used to paint in a surrealistic style, and have always like the works of early 20th century surrealists like Salvadore Dali, Rene Magritte, Paul Delvaux and Yves Tanguy.

The last artist in that list holds a special fascination for me. I used to use electron microscopes a lot in my science days (grad school and jobs), and one type of scope -- the scanning electron microscope (SEM) -- produced images that looked very much like Tanguy's paintings: a microscopic world inhabited by bacteria, teeny-tiny fragments of bone and other hard-to-describe features.

I've made a few paintings that combined Tanguy's look with things I've seen under the SEM. I've posted one example of this above. This is what one might see if shrunk down to microscopic size, with bacterial cells of E. coli and Staphylococcus strewn all around. (Of course, I doubt our eyes or anything else would function if we were reduced to a micrometer in height, but that's beside the point!)

If we could see with God's eyes...

Autumn Equinox Time!

Ahhh...welcome to autumn!

As I mentioned in a previous post, fall seems to bring out the artistic impulses in me -- something like a migratory instinct, I guess, except in my case, it's a desire to immerse myself in the beauty of autumn.

During fall (and Christmas, too), I decorate out living room with all kinds of autumn stuff. This year, I added some orange Halloween lights to the display. They were made in China, as are so many consumer goods these days. One warning printed on the box had me a little concerned: the insulation on the wires contains lead. The instructions even recommended washing one's hands after handling the wires.

Good grief! What is it about Chinese companies that compells them to manufacture items using toxic materials?

Well, anyway, the decorations are up and, IMO, they look good. I consider decorating for the holidays an extension of what I do when I paint.

Gambling...Sex...Art

The wiffee and I (yes, I call my wife "wiffee"!) ran off to Las Vegas, NV this weekend. I've always wanted to look into the art gallery scene there, and an art trade show, Art Expo Las Vegas 2008 was going on this weekend, too. So it seemed like a good opportunity to answer some questions I've had about whether or not Vegas galleries are a place for an emerging artist like me to make a few $$$.

The Art Expo was sort of fun. They had an area devoted to individual artists who paid something like $2500 to be there (that included a room at the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino where the Expo was held). I knew one of the artists there who lives in the low desert, but I never heard of the others.

The Expo also featured booths featuring art print publishers, Iris printers (for making one's own Giclee prints) and galleries, most of them from outside the area. Only one publisher carried western/realistic art prints, so I left some information with them.

Afterwards, we made an effort to find some galleries we could visit and, if it seemed to be a good "fit," talk with them about possible representation. Only one problem:

I don't think Las Vegas galleries want you to find them!!!!

Trying to find information about them -- ads, word of mouth, special advertising publications like "Gallery Guide" or "Art Scene" -- seem to be of little interest to this crowd. Maybe the locals know where to find the galleries, but if you're an out-of-towner, try to find one of these galleries. Just try. If you look them up in the phone book and try calling them, you likely will get an answering machine. We did connect with one gallery person over the phone, but after about the first 15 seconds, he hung up on us.

I doubt I'll be approaching any galleries in Las Vegas. I don't think they're really interested in selling art.

The photo is of the Fremont Experience area in the older part of Las Vegas. In the evenings, they put on a sort of gambling-themed light show on the canopy/roof structure. (We also saw a man with a sign warning everyone of God's judgement on those who indulge in gambling and/or sexual diversions. I think we were safe this time).

Disaster Recovery Efforts

As I mentioned in my last post, I was having trouble painting in the sky in my homage to Thomas Moran and his series of paintings entitled (with some variation) "Cliffs of the Green River."

I've painted in a new sky and a different set of clouds -- perhaps a type that lends itself more to a smaller piece like this one -- and I'm much happier with the sky.

So on I go to the other elements of the landscape. Obviously, it won't be ready to post for a while yet, so here's version #2 of Moran's "Cliffs of the Green River."

A Disaster

In my last post, I briefly mentioned artwork in progress can turn out to be disasters.

Yesterday was a day for disasterous painting. It's a piece I just started. I finished the sketch of the important elements (Toll Gate Rock and the other cliffs in Green River, WY), painted in the blue sky, and THEN!!!--I started on the clouds.

It would have been OK if I would have known when to stop, but I kept re-working and re-working the clouds and ended up with something truly hideous. So I ended up painting them out and trying again until after midnight last night. This time, the clouds were even worse!!

Since the painting is on panel, this morning I did some sanding, trying to reduce the thickness of the paint film and the numerous glazes I had applied by this time. And I discovered using an electric sander on acrylic paint doesn't work the way I was expecting. The friction of the sandpaper produces enough heat to melt blobs of sanded-off dry paint into the remaining paint film. I had to hand-sand those spots until the blobs were gone and I had a basically smooth surface again. Si-i-g-g-h-h-h...

Well, in the meantime, I'm preparing the surface again, and by tomorrow, I should be on my way. So for now, I've posted one of 19th century artist Thomas Moran's many paintings of the cliffs of the Green River. My painting will be similar, but it'll definitely be my own. (For one, I was there in the morning, so my light will come from the right. Moran's afternoon light comes from the left).

Disasters

Well, every so often, I might call a painting I've finished a "disaster." All artists produce works that just don't work for whatever reason.

But in this case, I'm referring to natural disasters. Hurricane Ike brought frightening ruin to the Texas coast, and it reminds me how fragile our lives and our material things are.

Here in the California desert, it's unlikely we'll ever have to be overly concerned about hurricanes. Sometimes we get tornados, but they're rare.

The problem here: earthquakes. The state is riddled with fault lines. Some are active, some haven't been but could become active. We live less than 100 yards/100m from a relatively inactive fault -- a state highway lies right on top of it. And we're about 20 miles/32.2km (as the crow flies) from the San Andreas fault, which is guaranteed to cause a major disaster, 'tho' no one knows when. Someday, this area is going to get nailed. Whether we'll still be alive to see it is the issue. Or it could happen a minute from now.

The painting I've shown includes a small portion of one branch of the San Andreas fault. The fault runs along the front of the palm trees, which tend to grow along faults since underground water is able to seep close to the surface. From this viewpoint, you are standing on the Pacific plate, moving slowly towards the left. The palms and the hills behind them are on the North American plate, moving slowly to the right. Someday, the city of San Francisco will be where the palms are now, IF all that movement enables the city to survive.

Johnny One-Note

In my previous post, I mentioned a weekly art show I used to visit from time to time and how much I enjoyed a desert landscape painter that showed there.

I remember another painter I used to see at that show. I can't recall his work in detail, but it featured mountains, a lake and pine trees. All in browns and greens. ALL of his paintings.

For you see, he painted the same painting over and over again. Big ones, small ones, horizontal and vertical ones of each size. But the image was essentially the same on each canvas.

If a customer really liked the image, s/he would have no problem finding the right size and format for the available space in the home or office. If people didn't like the image, well, there was nothing else to look at in this guy's booth, so the buyers would move along and look elsewhere.

I never did talk with the artist. I'd love to know if he discovered the image was a winner: that's why he painted it and it only. Or: was it an image he liked and therefore banked his time and his material costs on re-painting it ad nauseum?

I've heard artists like this referred to as "Johnny One-Notes." No variety, no experimentation--just do what's safe and, possibly, saleable. While it isn't unusual for artists to become known for doing a certain subject with variations, THIS guy took it to an extreme.

Frankly, I think that's sad. If he's still painting and selling work, I hope he's grown in his art AND in his ability to take chances.