Posts Tagged ‘Cassie buccellato’

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:




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


All contents copyright (C) 2010 Katherine Hilden. All rights reserved.





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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.
StreamConsciousnessAnalysisAfter 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.
Diebenkorn1I, 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)

DiebenkornLandsc2All contents copyright (C) 2010 Katherine Hilden. All rights reserved.

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