Cakeasaurus Lurking: painting

Showing posts with label painting. Show all posts

Friday, July 16, 2021

Flood Warnings, Anyone? The Art Fair Edition

...And so, the Ann Arbor Art Fair weather curse holds true, though it feels especially damning this time around: foreboding forecast for the shortened three-day timespan, though we all lucked out yesterday -- the threat of rain held off, and I personally wandered wayyy past my limit in order to get a complete overview of the whole thing. Even with the good-but-clown-feetish-sneakers, my feet swelled, pooooor little me. The fair had some marked changes, of course. No avenues of fair food, no violin monster spotted; no Ignatius Hats with people swirling around the booth, laughing at themselves in the crazier designs, but secretly hoping they look cool; no potters' guild or yourist clay sections; no Nick Wroblewski, and South University offerings look much diminished (though to be fair, still more vendors than most art fairs have in total)... On the flipside, splendid watercolorist Katie Musolff returned to the Original area, and Karin Coron returned to grace us with her intense oil & oil pastel landscapes (booth NU807), and Connie Verrusio, the maker of one of my all-time-favorite pairs of earrings (repurposed produce scales).

I cleared off my day yesterday and today to wander the fair, with our spitfire happily deposited in preschool; and here we are today, with solid rain since 3 AM (intermittent torrents). So far there's no pocket of time with less than 80% chance of precipitation, which is damn brutal for all the artists, having paid quite a lot to be here, not to mention travelling for hundreds of miles, all the schlepping, and STILL having to be present in one's tent, without enough people coming through, trying to talk the body away from resenting wet feet, and the mind from anticipating a financial mess of a show or a tent collapse. Oi. I have artists whose work I'd love to revisit, and was counting on doing that today, with myself selling at a local ArtHouse Pop-Up tomorrow & Saturday (913 Gott St, Ann Arbor, ahem!). Maybe at some point a lighter rain, perhaps a drizzle, and I could briefly wander in galoshes? Here's hoping everyone ventures out on Saturday, with the better forecast.

*Just a few snippets*

Yesterday, it was refreshing to see the fashion illustration of Anita Rundles over on North U (booth WA817). She's based in Brooklyn and has done some work for Netflix. I love the interplay of precise, fine lines with freer splashes of color -- good energy. It also reminded me of the cache of old design illustration my Mom kept from her art school days. She passed away in March of this year; it was a comforting to look through Rundle's originals, thinking of how Mom would have had definite reactions (both praise and criticism). For her part, Rundles fretted over the weather curse that everyone else had mentioned; if you are in the area, go visit her booth and help make her first show worthwhile. And ask her why she didn't bring the great Solange illutstration wih the gold earrings (on her Instagram), though I'd assume it's sold.

Master glassblower William Ortman has been at it for 16 years. Astoundingly intricate without being fussy. Large cut away vases.

Kipley A. Meyer wasn't dying for a photo op (sandwich held behind his back; reticence), but he obliged me. He asked me if I did yoga or meditation, and explained that his pieces speak to going beyond the chatter of the monkey mind (see "Enter Within," on the left). When he gestured to the piece on the right, "Return" (or "Return to"), he ran his hand back and forth along the circular paths and said, "Return to the breath..." and it fit perfectly. For some reason, I also found the repetition of the pounded, rusty nails quite satisfying.

Allllll the way at the other end on Main Street, I almost zipped past Scotty Jones' booth before registering it. But once you see his sharp, and distinctively styled bags, you don't forget them. I became a fan at the Gutman Gallery shop, but when I saw his Urthy brand there, I didn't realize HOW much he puts into them: his fabrics, with few exceptions, are 50s upholstery textiles; the retro graphics are all his OWN screenprints; and he's just now branching out to using his own fabric designs (he highly recommends Spoonflower's quality). But I assume you have a team of people sewing your designs? "OHHHHHHHHHHHH no! NOPE, it's all ME" he laughed and asked whether I had been to the fair merchandise booth yet. Jones sparkled: "I did the merch designs this year! They just brought them to me" Wishing much success to Jones!

Almost time for Terry Gross, and still it rains. "Drizzle stopping in 50 minutes" -- but the following hour block shows more thunderstorms. Artist friends I feel for you. And hope people come out in full force tomorrow.

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Chicago Art Minute

Half a week has passed since we drove out to Chicago. Our primary reason was Hamilton, which obviously doesn't need the approval of an occasional blogger. If you haven't seen it, you're already sick of the hype. Nevertheless: you'll be blown away and probably bawl.

Otherwise...Quick hits from a long weekend:

1. We were hustling along after a scrumptious dinner at Little Goat, trying to reach a screening of "Three Billboards outside Ebbing Missouri" on time. As usual, the directions were clear until they weren't and Rick was squinting at his apple compass, marching forward, and then halting. We passed the nasty opulence of a Trump property and rounded a corner. And were met by a cluster of "Gentlemen":

Blocky, dynamic. With just enough space between its various forms to invite goofballs like me to squeeze in for photos. But the light was low, and Rick's patience was wearing thin, and we had Frances McDormand to see. More on Taiwanese sculptor Ju Ming and the journey of the Gentlemen to the AMA plaza here.

"An Elegant Woman at the Elysee Montmartre"

2. French painter, Louis Anquetin, in the Toulouse-Lautrec room of the Art Institute of Chicago. Never heard of him and was on the verge of attributing his painting to someone else. Anquetin was dismissed as a "one hit wonder" by the Cleveland Plain Dealer, but Toulouse-Lautrec spoke to his importance among his circle, calling him "the glory of the [Atelier Cormon] studio"... (according to the painting museum label). Aside from befriending Toulouse-Lautrec (and sharing a studio with him), he was also friends with Vincent Van Gogh, and Emile Bernard. Together with Bernard, he developed a painting style termed cloisonnism, which the image is an example of:

"Cloisonnism is characterized in particular by strong contours and surfaces that have been barely elaborated, but also by the bright colors and a bold pictorial composition beyond the rules of central perspective."

Mishmash of other artists? Possibly. Less prominent? Definitely. He later veered away from this painting style in favor of the Rubens school, without gaining much of a following. But what a refreshing, beautiful painting. I love the bold outlines, and the decorative elements in her dress and coat, especially when considering the delicacy with which her face was painted.

3. Wonderful, tiny lives. Rick & I were trading off on daughter wrangling at the Art Institute of Chicago. We try, and mostly fail, to wander as a group, as I want to meander, linger, and share; Rick strives to keep a good, brisk pace; and the daughter wants to to climb every dias, touch all the things, befriend some guards, and kidnap a baby or at least commandeer a new walker into Ring-around-the-Rosie. So this time he mostly took her, after a brief meditation in front of "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Grande Jatte." I didn't get far before he called me; and I expected bullet points about a meltdown, with a consensus needed about whether to stay or go. "We're downstairs in the miniature rooms, you've got to come down here." The what? I said. At the science museum the day before, there had been another miniature "fairy castle," which had seemed somewhat cool in its ornateness, and inventiveness, but also rather twee -- not that we had a chance to really look, as the girl was momentarily fixated on cows and would not stop. More minis? "I know, I brought her down here because I thought she would like it, but they're just REALLY incredible."

I agreed to come down and wound up spending almost all the rest of my museum time in this section alone. It's not just that each diorama is exquisitely detailed; that every diminutive item carries the proportionate heft of its real world counterpart; that the room reads as authentic to its assigned period and place; or that it all speaks to an exceedingly heavy concentration of both money and fussy, fussy labor. The crowning glory is this: every room leads to hallways, or other barely glimpsed rooms, or a side garden, a night sky, rolling pastures. You are compelled to gaze in, in all directions, to see as much as you can, because there's a new bit of world beyond each room. And the tiny inhabitants may have vacated the viewing space, but there are robust lives being lived, just beyond your vision.

"California Living Room, 1875-79"

French provincial bedroom Louis XV -- love the inset bed

English Cottage Kitchen 1702-14

English Entrance Hall, Georgian, c. 1775

... And now back to our normally scheduled program. May our tiny little lives be light filled and many roomed~~

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Armchair Travel: Ann Arbor Art Fair Artist Peek

It's debatable how much I'll get to wander the Ann Arbor Art Fair next week, but just right now, with the baby asleep in a snuggly blanket in the study and a steady thrum of rain hitting our roof, it's a good time to visit the artists' directory for "the original." Starting in the A's, we have numerous returning artists here ... If I have the baby freedom, I'll check out:

Kent Ambler's woodcuts. Is there a growing printmaker presence at the show, or is it just my imagination? Ambler's prints strike me as more traditional woodblocks, though this may be inaccurate from an art school perspective. More rough hewn? Blockier? Words are clearly failing me. Or I am failing them. Anyhoo, they look similar to the woodblock prints I grew up seeing in my parents' house: bold lines, high contrast between light and dark, palpable texture. While I am most drawn to his single block work, his use of color is also quite good, as seen in "On the Hunt." Separately, block constructs, whaaaaaaaaaat??? In theory, we destroy our woodblocks after an edition, which I have an aversion to; but every once in a while an artist will do something else with the blocks -- or flat out sell them. Looks like he deconstructs his... Booth A532, Hails from Greenville, SC

Jerry Brem's large scale mixed media paintings of book shelves hold appeal within their abstracted repetition and color variation; and inspire (a knee-jerk?) fondness. The repetitions of chairs though, aggravate in their floatiness and call to mind a furniture warehouse. Will see how they sit (*sorry*) in person. Booth A520, hails from Lady's Island, SC

Curt Miller's prints. His website made me laugh, why not go laugh at him in person? Booth A537, Montoursville, PA

Katie Mulsoff's watercolors! Yayyyyyyyy, I love her! Returning. One year on, and I still love the pieces on my wall. Had I a bigger kitchen, I would buy some of her produce pieces. Baby currently talks to "Come Together," a still life with bird, with outstretched wings, flanked by ferns and small purple flowers. Warning: her work sells out. Booth A328, Stoddard, WI

Ray Maseman's narrative multiple plate etchings call to mind older schools of children's book illustration; Listed categories under his Projects tab on his web site gives some of the flavor: "Saints Reimagined," "Sub-Arctic Expedition," "Giraffe Story." Booth A518, hails from Albuquerque, NM

Sarah Bean's book art. Returning. I *believe* her booth was one that caused a buzz among my artist/book friends last year? Always, book sculptures make me feel ambivalent. Books! Drawn to them. Books were cut up! Makes me cringe. Booth A504, from Redford, VA

Local painter Karin Wagner Coron's landscapes. Returning. Local readers may have viewed her pieces at WSG on Main Street. I am a long-time admirer. The photo onsite doesn't do justice to her work -- the colors and compositions of her large pieces simultaneously energize and calm -- they'd be a pleasure to live with. Booth A364.

David Dallison's globetrotting plein air watercolors. Returning. I missed his booth last year, but looks promising. Booth A514, Waukegan, IL

Creepy, fabulous, claustrophobic, plush dystopia of National Treasure. Joachim Knill returns. Always popular. always disquieting. Booth A206, Hannibal, MO

On a *completely* different note, artist's statements~~~ This really can help to differentiate you if it's done well. Judging by an initial scan, oiiiiiii, so many generic ones... Either inflated with art speak, or bland and obvious (I allow my viewers to bring their experiences to my work, therefore, *they* complete the art -- yes, thanks, Art 101; I use many media and colors, so it's never boring! ---hmmm, what?) On the flip side, a statement can occasionally miss the mark by striking an oddly personal tone, as in: "I just try to be myself, it is sometimes difficult when the whole world is telling you not to be" (note: this was the entire artist statement). Flip flip flip side -- this bare bones statement definitely needs fleshing out -- it tells nothing of Matthew Hemminghaus' motivation, but admit is -- it kind of makes you want to check it out (Booth A411) : "I build miniature sets in my studio which i use to photograph my chickens."

Also of Note: Artist Demonstrations! Dallison, Bean, and others are demonstrating their craft (photography, clay, fiber, metalworking, more) at select times. Full schedule here.

AND OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE BABY HAS BEEN ASLEEP THIS LONG. A blanket is being rustled. I will stop while I'm ahead.