Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Art All Year, Every Year

One year ago, I was enveloped by the smell of linseed oil in Brigid's studio and fell in love once again with making art.  As everybody who has ever been in love knows, that state has it's ups and downs.  But you also know that as many times as you say you'll never do it again after a fall, you just can't help yourself the next time it comes around.  The end of "Art All Year" has come and gone, but that's not to say it won't continue.  I had a good enough time this year just getting started, that I choose art all year, every year.  I can look back and reflect upon what I've done, what I haven't done, and what I'd like to do going forward.  Autumn feels like a good time of year for that for me.

This past weekend, I celebrated the art  year with another trip to Boston.  Another trip to Brigid's studio yielded similar results - I am so inspired by artists who consistently make.  We also spent a day meandering through artists' natural habitat of Boston's Fort Point Open Studios.  The living-life-as-art spaces were each unique.  Some elegant, some cozy, some inviting and some off-putting, but all hopeful.  I think there's something inherently hopeful about making art that consistently.  I used to think that in order to make art, one had to be depressed or angry or desperate to send a message of some sort.  But now I think that art represents hope.  Why bother, otherwise?  Art is hope for yourself, for your society and your culture.

Some of the artists whose vision of hope was particularly of interest to me follow in no particular order:
  • Martin Berinstein: http://www.loccoritoro.com/berinstein.htm
    Beautiful photographs and this one installation of an object inside a mirrored box.  The mirrors were at multiple angles and you stuck your head in the box to take a look.  There, you were greeted by the object, which was almost superfluous to the piece, so much so that I can't remember what it was, the mirrors, and your head, at myriad angles - up, down sideways, front and back infinitely to the sky and below.  It sort of reminded me of the Star Wars Galactic Senate.
  • Kate Gilbert Miller:  http://www.kategilbertmiller.com
    Beautiful, light and airy paintings with lots of white space and concise earth tones, reminding me that I don't have to be so heavy handed.
  • Dorothea Van Camp: http://www.unit35.com
  • Christine Vaillancourt: http://www.christinevaillancourt.com
    Loved the process.  I was convinced that these pieces were encaustic until I read her statement.  Acrylic?  Whoda thunk it?!  I thought acrylic was for babies.  Another reminder that it's not the camera, it's the photographer.
  • Valda Zalkalns (sadly, no website or postcard to swipe)
    Earthworks.  Etchings of scratch marks made by swans on a frozen Charles River.  Fascinating process and beautiful outcomes.  This art makes me want to investigate an interest farther than "I wonder".
And then we visited Bessie - the "mascot" at the Museum School.  I always wanted to take a ride on her back, but was afraid of the trouble I'd get in.  I've lived that way too much - being fearful of potential trouble and wanting, at all costs, to stay out of it.

Enter, year two of "Art All Year".  I've already set a goal for the year end which is to put pieces in the Holiday Alumni Sale at the Museum School, 2011, which puts me back in Boston first week of November.  WHY is this TROUBLE, you may ask?  It's the fear, and this year, I'm going to conquer it... get right up on it's back and shout, "Whoa, Bessie!"

No comments:

Post a Comment