artamaze by Katherine Hilden

https://artamaze.wordpress.com/2019/03/03/red-and-repetition/

https://artamaze.wordpress.com/2019/02/20/green-anyone/

https://artamaze.wordpress.com/2019/02/19/those-blues/

https://artamaze.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/red-and-rational/

Red and Repetition

Posted in abstraction, Achievement, Color, Composition, inspiration, Seeing, Semiotics, Technique and Demo, tagged Aimless Love, Billy Collins, Cassie buccellato, painting, poetry on March 3, 2019| 1 Comment »

You know by now that I like to ferret out why a painting or drawing holds my attention. In an abstract painting this is particularly puzzling because no reference, no narrative, no memory is evoked. Then how is it that these bold non-referential brush marks can be so compelling?

There are two factors. One is composition, the other is color.

The composition here is based on repetition. There are three “brackets” of different size, orientation and articulation. By articulation I mean how clearly the “bracket motif” is stated. The small one at upper right looks like an emergent, potential bracket. The largest one of the three is more elaborate than the mid-size one at upper left. The artist, I’m sure did not analyze her process this way, but rather painted intuitively. And that’s because the repetition of forms is so compelling in a composition. We like repetition, rhythm and rhyme in poetry and music. And also in our visual art.

What about that yellow dot? Go back up to the original painting and notice how your eye goes back to this tiny element and how fascinated you are by it. That’s it! The small yellow dot breaks the repetition, it adds a high note.

The second factor is color, which will come up in the next post.

As I was working on this analysis, I randomly pulled a book off the shelf. It was a book of poetry by Billy Collins, “Aimless Love.” I opened it at random and read:

Lucky for some of us,

poetry is a place where both are true at once,

where meaning only one thing at a time spells malfunction.

Cassie Buccellato, painting in oil, 6′ x 4-1/4′

www.katherinehilden.com

https://artamaze.wordpress.com/2018/10/29/that-big-brush/

Turn it over, see what happens

Posted in abstraction, Achievement, Composition, Romantic, Roundness, Seeing, Technique and Demo, tagged Cassie buccellato, Chicago, WeWork on January 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »

This how you last saw this painting.

It has a firm solid base. We like that, don’t we. We like stability. A solid object is good to behold, looks like it’s been here forever and will be here for another millennium. Hmmm.

I suggested we turn the painting over.

Look what’s happened here. It now feels like something suspended. Still well-constructed, but it conveys so much more energy. Of course, you can’t have stability and suspension at the same time. This is a deeply personal issue. With the feeling of suspension comes the feeling of energy. We like energy, but energy means movement or potential movement and that means “no” to stability.

Cassie Buccellato, oil on canvas, ~5’ x 5’.

The artist currently is showing her paintings at WeWork, 111 W Illinois St, Chicago,. (312) 818-3060

https://www.wework.com/buildings/111-w-illinois-st–chicago–IL?utm_source=Google&utm_campaign=Organic&utm_medium=Listings

www.katherinehilden.com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhM5nw_skNQ

That Big Brush

Posted in abstraction, Achievement, Seeing, Technique and Demo, tagged big brush, Cassie buccellato, Helen Frankenthaler, L'huile paper on October 29, 2018| Leave a Comment »

Notice how big that brush is. And what kind of brush is that, anyway? Is that even a painting brush? No, it’s not. It’s a brush used by wall-paper hangers. Are you allowed to paint with a brush that’s not made for painting? Yes, Virginia, you’re allowed to paint with any ol’ brush you can find. Or, for that matter, use any ol’ tool you can lift to transport paint onto that canvas.

Helen Frankenthaler (1928-2011) said that when she was getting into the NY art scene in the 50’s, it was taboo to buy your brushes in an art supply store. You bought your brushes in a hardware store!

I remind my students to use the biggest brush they can. We buy our brushes in packages, yes, in Hardware and, yes, at the bulk price. The smallest brush I like to see is 3”.

The artist making this large painting is using only one brush, about 6 inches wide. Notice that she uses this one brush for every effect, from broad fat stokes to thin faint lines. There are two benefits from this loyalty to one big brush: a) the painting achieves a unified look because it’s made with only one tool and b) the artist can work in a more relaxed way. No switching, no calculating, no deciding. She works gracefully in tune with her instrument. Harmony all around!

See the finished painting in the next blog.

Cassie Buccellato, Painting on L’huile paper. (Huile is French for oil. It’s sturdy, museum grade paper that can take oil or acrylic.)

For Helen Frankenthaler:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ij5PDIZ1h6k

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helen_Frankenthaler

I love this next video. It shows her pouring paint from a bucket and using a hardware store brush: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9kfufFMRvg

http://www.katherinehilden.com

Let It Be

Posted in abstraction, Achievement, Color, Composition, Landscape, Negative space, Seeing, Technique and Demo, Therapy, tagged ancient Greeks, Cassie buccellato, colonade, landscape, paradox, Parthenon, Richard Diebenkorn on September 3, 2015| 3 Comments »

Picture it large. It’s 48” wide.
You want to see it as a landscape, right? There’s that horizon line from the left, a third of the way down. Above that the colors are blue-ish and atmospheric. So that’s comforting. You’re on your way to an interpretation. Oh, good, you think, I can figure this out. You keep looking. What else can you latch on to, what else can you identify? Errrmmm, what’s the blue blotch, what’s the red trapezoid, what are those black strokes? Frustration sets in. No, wait, there’s that receding white brush stroke, that seems to suggest perspective. Wonderful, a sense of perspective. You keep looking for more landscape clues, but, alas, the landscape reference falls apart, it simply does not hold up. That’s your moment of release, of liberation. Exhale. Now you’re looking at the painting and enjoying it because now you’re actually seeing it.
After you stop figuring it out and you surrender to looking, you notice the little black splatters. And where are they? They are where the major forms of the composition converge. You missed them earlier. How could you miss these dots? Because they’re nothing. And yet the great big red, blue, and black shapes point to this nothing.
I, for one, love paradox. Takes my breath away.
The composition as a whole reminds me of Diebenkorn’s landscapes. Notice how his shapes converge, but on nothing.
It’s an aesthetic that goes way back to the ancient Greeks, who designed the Parthenon so that the center of the pediment facade would be an open space, not a column. We’ll get to that, later sometime.
Painting by Cassandra Buccellato, oil on canvas, ~40”x48”
Richard Diebenkorn, (1922-1993)