Trying a little thinking out loud…

In all of the living quarters and gathering places here there are stacks of books on Robert Rauschenberg. Who knew there were so many publications! In this room there are roughly 30 volumes, many slim exhibition catalogues, most of which I’ve not seen before.

One of these is the National Gallery of Art catalogue for the 1991 exhibition of works from the Rauschenberg Overseas Cultural Interchange project, a series of exhibitions in eleven countries from 1985-1990 ( good overview, mid-project, NY Times 1987:  http://www.nytimes.com/1987/05/03/arts/art-rauschenberg-s-tour-de-force.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm).

In the back pages is a conversation between Bob and Donald Saff. At one point Bob says, “If I am a successful artist, then I think you don’t need art. Art is then an appreciation of your own life.”

The cynic might scoff at that thinking that evidently Bob wasn’t successful since we still need art (well, another cynic might say we don’t need art at all, that it is frivolous, elitist, whatever). But I am reminded of what another great philosopher, Vince Lombardi said:  “Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence.”

So if Bob worked with the idea that his work was based on what he found interesting, as document and visually compelling, which was pretty much the whole world, then he was setting up the possibility that others might be able to do that as well—to get the idea. He could strive to help folks “see”, but it might not work for everybody. All we got is excellent art.

Further along in the discussion is this recollection from Bob:

Jasper Johns had a schoolteacher in South Carolina, I think, and she had a gentleman visitor who came often and always sat opposite a Moholy-Nagy [painter/photographer, taught at the Bauhaus] and stared at it all through the evening. After months the guest said, “What is that?” and she said, “That’s a space modulator” and he said, “Oh,” and he never looked back at it.

Understanding is a form of blindness. Good art, I think, can never be understood.

For some reason we tend to privilege the verbal, to give weight to words as “meaningful” and if there is meaning that cannot be put into words then there is a tendency to dismiss it, to act as if it is silly, it can’t exist if it can’t be verbalized. And when we are new at this art stuff, or not really connected with it at all, we tend to hear an “explanation” and be satisfied that that is the final answer, that it is in the the words attached to the art—not the art itself—that is where the “answer” lies.

Here’s a recollection from the photographer Robert Adams:

Part of the reason that these attempts at explanation fail, I think, is that photographers, like all artists, choose their medium because it allows them the most fully truthful expression of their vision… as Robert Frost told a person who asked him what one of his poems meant, “You want me to say it worse?”

And in “How We Listen to Music” Aaron Copland says:

This whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, “Is there a meaning to music?” My answer to that would be, “Yes.” And “Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?” My answer to that would be, “No.” Therein lies the difficulty. 

December 6  THE BOAT TRIP

Just returned from an exhausting six hour boat trip with the group. Instead of working in the studio today we took Matt up on his offer of a tour around Captiva and other local islands in a boat. Wow, six hours in a boat in 80 degree temperatures with a little breeze, looking at flocks of birds, dolphins, stuff like that, will wear you out. When do we get to go again!?!?!? [Darn, I think that was it.]

Here’s Captain Matt at the helm.

We passed this sign early on…

I don’t know  how they knew about the Residency, but obviously this says we can no longer act like artists when out on the water.

We went looking for dolphins and we found some—but they don’t seem to predictably surface for folks with point-and-shoot digital cameras. Stephen was gathering sounds with an underwater microphone, seeing if he could grab some dolphin sound.

Taylor Deupree arrived yesterday to work with Stephen for a few days. He’s staying at our house. Unfortunately for him, on the first day here he had to go out on this boat, but as you can see, he’s making the most of this trying situation…

Here’s Linda with Laurie hard at work on documentation…

As it  moved on toward lunchtime Matt picked up the speed and it got breezy. That turned out to be too much of  New York winter feel for Laurie.

We made to Cabbage Key Restaurant for lunch. Good food, good view. Wild interior papered with dollar bills—real ones!

Two rooms like that. Walls and ceiling. And as with many outdoor eating areas, there’s a pigeon (as usual the local versions of wildlife are somewhat different), he’s a regular and they’ve named him Floyd.

Yes, it is real, not plastic.

One thing that I really enjoyed, beyond the wildlife and the ride itself, was the ever changing light on the water (and the sky). Samples:

The painter Brice Marden has talked about how the colors of his monochrome panels in his early paintings related to experiences of nature and I seem to remember him saying something in an interview about the sea of Hydra (Greece). I understand how that could work.

I made a lot of attempts at wildlife photography today with my little Canon Powershot and had very mixed results, but I like this one:

Back to the studio on Friday.

December 5

I received this pic from Yassi. Shows me hard at work, doing what artists do—standing and staring at stuff.

Laurie Lambrecht is a photographer who arrived on Tuesday to begin documenting what is happening here. Here she is documenting a conversation between Carrell and Yassi.

I got some work done. I hung all the color work in progress so it can tell me what to do (and I can stand and stare at it). I think all of the smaller squares are done.

As I left the studio the setting sun was lighting up the Fish House (where Laurie is staying).

While we believe that we are the first lucky group to be “residents” here, I found something lurking beneath a work table that indicates that some other artist had been working here recently:

Birthday notes

Happy Birthday to Dr. Jan Dabrowski, Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences at Marylhurst University. I believe he is 39 again. He likes broccoli.

And if my mother was alive she’d be 104 years old today.

Tuesday stuff…

On a walk from the studio to the Weeks House I noticed this convenient nature study. Look at this cute little plant that some bird planted in this nook in a palm tree:

Well it grows into a monster, a strangler fig. According to Wikipedia, “Strangler fig is the common name for a number of tropical and subtropical plant species” — so I don’t know exactly what this plant is, but nearby are a couple of its relatives:

And elsewhere on the property are huge strangler fig trees with the original host buried within. Maybe I’ll post a pic of one of those later.

Here’s a view of the dance studio, taken during our orientation tour back on day one:

On the left, not in the reflection, is Carrell Courtright (studio technician for the Residency). In the mirror, left to right, are Matt Hall (facilities manager for the Residency), Ann Brady (Residency Director), Carrell (again), Maria Elena Gonzalez (sculptor), Stephen Vitiello (visual and sound artist), and Monica Marin (Residency Coordinator). Oddly enough, the artist who is now working in the studio, Linda K. Johnson, from Portland, arrived later and wasn’t on the tour. This space was Bob’s original studio on the property. Beautiful room.

I got some work done in the studio. Rehung the small square works to give room for the larger color works. Worked on the squares a little bit, but the five in the middle horizontal row still need tinkering. I like the way the color pieces are evolving so far, but the three I’ve started have a long way to develop.

Began Monday by blogging about the weekend and then around lunch time we went over to the Weeks House (purchased, as I understand it, from Mrs. Weeks), the house that serves as the central kitchen/dining/social area for the place. Here’s a view looking toward the deck and then the view of Pine Island Sound if you turn 180 degrees:

As we arrived, this guy was right out there in the water…

…maybe 50 feet from the shore. I went to the shoreline and watched him (or her).  Eventually he walked over to within 20 feet of me and then walked off into the bush.

Got an excellent day in the studio. Late in the afternoon Yassi Mazandi came in to utilize some comfortable floor.

Yassi is working in the ceramic studio which is just downstairs from the main studio.

OK, at end of workday there are 15 pieces on the wall and I’m reasonably sure that the 10 on the left are done. (But I might find something about them to tinker with.)

And after putting about 6-8 coats of Daniel Smith “World’s Best” white gesso (yes, plug for Daniel Smith, love the product) over the bright colors that I put onto the larger panels on Friday, I randomly splotted (autocorrect didn’t like the term “splotted”!) some colors onto the panels to give me starting points to work with. I’ll see how that works out. Yes, the bright base colors are buried, but they glow through just a bit which must be what I want because that’s what I did.

Saturday

Began Saturday morning as usual sitting on the little front deck/porch having coffee and watching the funny little squirrels they have here.

They are a lot smaller than the ones in Portland, Oregon and have no hair, but they scurry and jump around just the same.

Didn’t do much Saturday. My brother-in-law, Rick, arrived and we did a lot of touring around the property and just sitting around talking. Went out to dinner at the Key Lime Bistro. Sat outside, there was a jazz guitarist/singer. Very pleasant. Here’s Rick:

Happy Holidays!

The Xmas lights are up!

Fun to see the snowflakes on the palms.

And the “douglas fir” garlands at the local strip mall…

Sunday

I hadn’t planned to work in the studio on the weekend, but when Susan and Rick went swimming in the pool (I’m not a swimmer) I decided to tinker around in the studio just a bit. Five hours later I’d had a really productive day. I got the last five of the small panels started (maybe 50-90% there) and began layering coats of white gesso over the bright colors I put on the larger panels on Friday. Also adjusted the lighting and while I was up on the rolling ladder took an overhead photo of my work setup:

I think maybe five or six of the small panels are done, and hope to get working in color on the bigger ones soon. End of day Sunday:

Had a great dinner with the group last (Friday) night, but then too tired to update, so here it is now.

Began the studio day with the idea that I needed to get five new works going before lunch (remember I have 15 more works to do than I planned for). I began by dabbing japanese ink randomly on the five panels, sorta the old abstract expressionist method of getting something to work with/against. Started to get some refining done and then off to lunch. Here’s where it was left then:

The five on the right are the new ones.

After lunch we received the shipment of 16″ x 20″ panels.  These panels are basically masonite with thin plywood strips cradling around the back edge. The front surface has a matte clay coating. Each panel is shrink-wrapped.

They came in two boxes. After opening the boxes I could see why several panels in the first shipment had dinged corners—that is, maybe a sixteenth, or up to an eighth inch triangle was broken off exposing rough masonite . The panels were stacked in the boxes with no corner protection! Just some air bag packing randomly filling the box. So if you want to try these panels from Dick Blick, try to buy them at one of their stores! I don’t know how you can tell them to pack them carefully as I saw no evidence that they would know what that meant. [End of rant.]

I gave the new panels a quick coat of color as I have planned to work on these in color. I just want some “given” to work with.

Maria Elena Gonzalez has begun to hang some photos in process on the wall to the right of my workspace.

Right behind the wall where I’m hanging my stuff is the computer/printer room. Maybe I’ll get a pic and info up about that later.

So, the state of my work as of Friday is: 10, 12-inch sq works in progress, actually I think three might be “done.” And 15, 16×20 panels with a coat of color.

I don’t plan to work in the studio this Saturday and Sunday as my brother in law will be visiting.

Here’s the starfruit (grows right next to the studio!) upside down cake that Terri made to cap off another lovely dinner (must click on this pic so you can really see it!):

It just doesn’t seem like Thanksgiving was just a week ago…

I worked hard in the studio today. Getting to know what those clayboard surfaced masonite panels are like—I really like them.

Given that I have 15 more surfaces to work on than I planned for I decided that I really had to get going and make three works today. I actually got a really good start on five pieces. I think two are about 95% done and the others are in the 80-85% range, so I’m happy about that. The pieces are done with gray, black and white acrylic, japanese ink and graphite. The clay surface lets me utilize scraping with an X-acto knife and sanding to erase. You can see the pieces here on the wall.

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As you can see, I added one more big table to my work area. These all aluminum (including the work surface) tables are about five by twelve feet and are the most amazing studio tables ever. Unfortunately you can’t buy them. They were made here by two of Bob’s studio assistants, one of whom, Matt, is now the facilities manager here.

The lightness of the aluminum along with the high quality industrial casters make them easily moveable with just one hand (well, you need two hands to steer).

I did take one break by the pool (just outside the studio) to read a chapter of Hadrian (did you know that the ancient Romans collected urine from the public toilets to use as bleach for their clothing?).

While there I watched turkey vultures collect on a snag. Bob purposely left snags for birds to roost on.

For me, Robert Rauschenberg is to the the art of the second half of the 20th century what Pablo Picasso was to the first half.

Hey, I just had to write this…

I had the good fortune to briefly meet Robert Rauschenberg twice. The first time was in 1979 when I was a 30 year old art critic for Willamette Week newspaper in Portland and he was having an exhibition at Portland Center for the Visual Arts. I was there before the opening to interview him and he graciously answered my questions while he signed exhibition posters. As I recall, I don’t remember much of the actual interview (although I do have the tape somewhere and there is the published version), but I do remember something he said to me during the opening reception in response to something else that I asked: “My work is an invitation to look…out the window.”

So that’s stuck with me for 33 years, and of course if one is familiar with Rauschenberg’s work and all of the writing about him, that statement is not at all surprising. His work and his attitude can teach us about how to enjoy the world that we actually inhabit. Here’s something else he said that I like:

I really feel sorry for people who think things like soap dishes or mirrors or Coke bottles are ugly because they’re surrounded by things like that all day long, and it must make them miserable.

And reading about Rauschenberg leads you to the attitudes of his friend and sometime collaborator John Cage:

Beauty is now underfoot wherever we take the trouble to look. 

But a long time ago—a bit over 1800 years ago—Marcus Aurelius anticipated this kind of pleasure in the mundane:

This also thou must observe, that whatsoever it is that naturally doth happen to things natural, hath somewhat in itself that is pleasing and delightful: as a great loaf when it is baked, some parts of it cleave as it were, and part asunder, and make the crust of it rugged and unequal, and yet those parts of it, though in some sort it be against the art and intention of baking itself, that they are thus cleft and parted, which should have been and were first made all even and uniform, they become it well nevertheless, and have a certain peculiar property, to stir the appetite.

 So figs are accounted fairest and ripest then, when they begin to shrink, and wither as it were. So ripe olives, when they are next to putrefaction, then are they in their proper beauty. The hanging down of grapes—the brow of a lion, the froth of a foaming wild boar, and many other like things, though by themselves considered, they are far from any beauty, yet because they happen naturally, they both are comely, and delightful; so that if a man shall with a profound mind and apprehension, consider all things in the world, even among all those things which are but mere accessories and natural appendices as it were, there will scarce appear anything unto him, wherein he will not find matter of pleasure and delight.

 So will he behold with as much pleasure the true rictus of wild beasts, as those which by skillful painters and other artificers are imitated.

 So will he be able to perceive the proper ripeness and beauty of old age, whether in man or woman: and whatsoever else it is that is beautiful and alluring in whatsoever is, with chaste and continent eyes he will soon find out and discern.

 Those and many other things will he discern, not credible unto every one, but unto them only who are truly and familiarly acquainted, both with nature itself, and all natural things.

[From The Project Gutenberg Etext of Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius, my paragraphing]

I enjoy the great philosophers like Rauschenberg, Cage and Marcus Aurelius.