And now for something completely polar opposite of splatter: realism. Namely the realism of Brooklyn artist David Jon Kassan. I saw a sample of Kassan's oil paintings on wood panel a month or so ago on another blog. I have to say that I was dumb-struck by the photo-like precision and the luminescent skin tones that only oils can promise. I'm not married to realism. I think realism, by very nature that it's meant to represent "real", can be boring to painful, depending on the skill level of the artist. Kassan makes it look so captivating, so easy.

His subjects are ordinary. They are captured as if being viewed behind a 2-way mirror, or an un-manned video camera. They sulk and pace and pose as if they're waiting for meeting, or for judgment. The artist finds them in a moment of introspection. The palates are dark and earthy. The backgrounds are not exactly organic, but industrial and deeply textured, neutral composites of concrete and brick and sometimes, text.

It's the skin that makes them so beautiful. Whether it's the skin of a young woman deep in thought, or an old man looking worriedly out of the frame, their skin is so translucent, one can almost see the blood moving beneath it. Kassan spares his subjects nothing in their skin; no blemish, no mole, no shadows from sleeplessness or age. Yet they have a worldly, empathetic beauty that makes them as real as anyone you'd stand in line behind at Starbuck's. Ordinary, unromantic, urban, pensive, and middle class. It's all revealed in their skin. I can only imagine how beautiful these paintings are in person.

www.davidkassan.com

And now, back to Monday.

So, this is happening this Friday:

COCA's 15th Annual Painting Marathon and auction. Painters will paint for 24 hours beginning Thursday11/8 til the 9th, then there will be a silent auction that evening. Sounds swanky. I'd really like to go, but won't be able to. There's a long list of artists who will be participating. I recognize two of the names, both artists whose work I have admired in galleries around Seattle. Kamala Dolphin-Kingsley, who paints lovely and eerie paintings with watercolor, ink, and glitter (!). I have a print of the one pictured here. And Chris Crites, whose series of mug shots painted with psychedelic colors on paper bags have impressed me again and again. I would love to see what they're going to do at this show.

http://www.cocaseattle.org/marathon2007.html

Friday, November 2, 2007

Who's knocking me out today? German artist Chris Von Steiner. This guy's obviously lost his mind where color and composition are concerned. I mean look at it! It's everywhere! It's all over the paper in some crazy explosion of day glo, nightmarish cartoon, and rock-n-roll mash-up. It's gorgeous! Gorgeous like a splash of road-kill on rain washed pavement, or the chaotic tangles of fallen trees on power lines. There's a dangerous agitation and sweaty sexuality to the compositions which make them as appealing as they are unnerving. It's too, too much to look at. I feel like I've taken amphetamines every time I study one of his paintings. It's color overload, subject apocalypse! Fantastic!

http://www.chrisvonsteiner.com/pages/accueil1.html

Audrey Kawasaki is the artist that I am admiring (sort of worshiping) today. What I love so much about what she does (and why I'm experiencing a little jealousy today) is her absolute minimal use of oil paint to develop these gorgeous, slightly creepy, images on natural wood. Her palate is natural and clean. The lines are sharp, but the curves are soft and sensual. She has this lovely, unashamed, grasp of innocence and sensuality, wonder and lust, simplicity and minute detail. Her paintings are just delicious.

www.audrey-kawasaki.com

Have an idea.

God, just grant me one original thought. Just one thing that hasn't been done, created, or conceived by another artist! Just one thing that's my own, that hasn't been borrowed or gleaned from someone else's work. It doesn't have to be the most amazing original thought. I would settle for something small and rather forgettable, as long as it's the jumping point for more significant ideas, or maybe the catalyst for a movement.

Rabbit and I were sitting in a Portland restaurant having eggs and potatoes. He'd picked up a neighborhood guide that had a list of shops, galleries and restaurants cleverly laid out with a small map and an index. On the front of the guide was a now familiar spray of artwork. Starting from the upper left corner was a curly, flowery, multi-layer stenciling in graded shades of purples and blues, little birds and stars and clouds accenting the curly-cues. It looks like something that started as street art and is now easily Vector produced, meant to give the message that something is urban and a little edgy, but very accessible. We had a short conversation about how prevalent that design is in modern advertising. I commented that I wished the idea had been mine.

That's what I'm talking about! Just one of those ideas. Just to have that idea that starts with a hand made stencil and 3 colors of spray paint and becomes the meme for urban chic...that would be cool. That's what I want. One original idea.

I'm not complaining that my ideas aren't good ones. The stuff I create isn't reproduction or direct knock-off. The ideas are just not completely original. They're composites of things that have already been done and made popular by someone else, more original and more seasoned. I'm searching for a something, either in technique or in finished product, that is not out there to be copied.

Make a peace offering.

I've been working on a painting for 5 months. Actually, let me clarify. I started a painting 5 months ago and have devoted about 12 hours to it so far. Not much, considering my normal pace of about 25-36 hours to finish a piece. I can usually only put in about 2 to 3 hours before the paper is too "wet" to work with without an overnight drying period. Optimally, I have maybe 2 to 6 hours per week that I can devote to painting. Work, kids, social engagements, boyfriend, bus, eating, and sleeping take up the rest. Realistically, I get in 2 hours every other week. So "finishing a painting" is always out there on the calendar. It's always just over the horizon.

As I'm just wrapping up the second hour last night, just pouncing the last indigo line into muted submission with the rest of the shadows, Rabbit says, "What if I just started putting out three of these a week." He was referring to the grey/pink/yellow/red canvas he'd just frosted in the 15 minutes he was waiting for me. "What if I started selling them for three hundred dollars a pop. That would drive you crazy, wouldn't it?" He laughed. He laughed, because Rabbit knows how I feel about "splatter art". I feel about it the same way I feel about fast food and comedies. They're not good, not important, not worthy of my attention or money, but they have a necessary purpose. They're quick, easy to digest, and they fill a void that clamors to be filled...not fulfilled, just filled.

Walk into almost any office building in the city and see the acre of wall space that splatter art fills. And thank God for it, really. When the 23 year-old at the management company was tasked with purchasing original "art" for the foyer walls, thank God that she needed look no further than her roommate's struggling friend who, for $1000 and a 12 pack, could create 500 square feet of spatula'd, spattered, squirted, splattered craftiness that could pass for art. Something no one could argue about, no one could disagree with, no one could be offended by or challenged by. Something that would be blandly perfect for foyer walls in an office building. Thank God, because otherwise, she might need to justify her choice. She might need to explain it to an irked boss, or a parent with an art-sensitive child, or a person with an eye for religious symbolism. God bless splatter art and its uncanny ability to fill any wall and match almost any couch.

I don't eat fast food, unless I'm drunk or starving and have 15 minutes between appointments. That is exactly my relationship with splatter art. I avoid it whenever possible. So Rabbit's comment was meant to poke me in a sensitive place. He knows this about me. But Rabbit is not an "artist". Well, he is, but not with paints. He enjoys getting his splatter on though. I know how good it feels to put paint on canvas, even if it's just a squish and a splat. It feels awesome. It feels like creation. It feels like release. Would it drive me crazy if Rabbit sold a splatter painting for $300? That would be fun, wouldn't it? Funny. You're god damned right I'd be crazy. I'd be so crazy, I'd probably reconsider why spend 5 months on a painting before deciding that I have to stop. How would he feel if I just dropped 10 pounds in a month and got sexy, muscley arms from "just working out on my lunch hour"? Would that be funny?......I thought not.