Let It Be

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)

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Richard Diebenkorn and the Kitchen Sink

Actually, the studio sink.  But the idea is the same: it’s not what you paint/draw, it’s how you see it. After I gave a demo with Stabilo pencil and china marker on gloss paper, I encouraged the students to set time aside to practice—or what from now on I will call “treat yourself to drawing.”   One student did just that.  Her pleasure in drawing, the fact that this really was a treat, is evident in the five drawings she produced in one day.  They remind me of Diebenkorn’s sink with their strong diagonals, the repetition of arched shapes, the chiaroscuro drama of light and dark, and the un-heroic nature of the subject matter. Diebenkorn’s studio sink, E.M.’s kitchen sink.In the Diebenkorn we see his much used tripartite composition, which we don’t have in E.M.’s drawings, but that’s a subject for another day. E.M. used china marker and Prismacolor marker on gloss paper to great effect.  The solvent in Prismacolors picks up—on gloss paper– the china marker’s black and creates a personal texture, a painterly quality, a feeling of transition and process.  There’s an urgency and concentration in these drawings that warrant the Diebenkorn connection. Pretty good company, there, Elizabeth!  Richard Diebenkorn, 1922-1993. Corner of Studio – Sink, 1963. Oil on canvas. 77×70 in

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Noodling with Marker: Part II, The Bad Ones

Looking at art you don’t like is a valuable exercise.  It sounds counter-intuitive, but I recommend that you get yourself a library book that contains your most loathed paintings, pour yourself a favorite drink and ensconce yourself with this picture book in a soft pile of cushions in the corner of your couch. You’re scrutinizing the image of this loathsome work of art and at the same time you’re introspecting, observing what happens in your imagination.  What chain reaction of associations does this image unleash?  Do it one evening, just set aside an hour for this weird exercise.  Then rest a few days and repeat.

Here are the seven line drawings that do not feel right. (See previous post for the five good ones).  Btw, the ratio of 5 good to 7 bad is about right.  I expected a higher number to turn out bad.  Remember, these drawings took only a few seconds, were done without revisions or corrections, one after the other.

You can start your meditation on bad art right here with these line drawings. (Click for enlargements.)

In the next post,perhaps I should reproduce some of my favorite loathsome works by such luminaries as Max Beckmann,  Richard Diebenkorn, Pablo Picasso and August Renoir.  Would I dare?

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