My process was similar for both of these paintings ("Stairs at Bodega" and "Swirly Kelp at Point Lobos") in the sense that I built up the surfaces in layers, and erased layers. I attempt to stay in a state flexibility and detachment so that I can completely change things when necessary (this is hard to do and I am still getting comfortable with it). I also am trying to experiment with new techniques when painting different elements so that the painting process is a changing experience.
One of the riskier moves I made in "Stairs" was deciding to paint the stairs over the figure. Originally I felt that the figure walking down the stairs was key to the image, and then realized that it was unnecessary--even distracting. Another struggle area was in the ocean. First I decided to draw in the water, which was time consuming and unsuccessful. This was risky because I was not sure how it would work and I knew it would take time. I eventually washed over it (another risk) and ended up painting the wave back in. The least risky areas were in the rocks. I had more confidence with how I wanted them to appear and took a more traditional (for me) approach of blocking out shapes. The other risky, or better yet, hasty move was adding the light flowers in the foreground. I experimented with a transfer type process, but they still just look painted on in a more un-intriguing way.
"Kelp": [this painting kicked my butt] I went through a bunch of different approaches while painting "Kelp". I started very quickly and intuitively, which was not risky, and I let myself embrace a more familiar gestural way of painting. I then proceeded to "destroy" the piece as a I explored different approaches. I went tighter and drew in water shapes and blocked out specific shapes of negative space until the whole thing dissolved into a chaotic pattern. I then had to bring back space and perspective. Since I spent a lot of time drawing in detail pattern and shapes, any move I made after that was a risk as I had to let go of the time spent before and move on. I went deeper with certain techniques, including: taping out very specific shapes to create branches, light patterns, the skeleton of the lantern, etc... I also experimented with crinkling plastic on the wet paint and letting it dry than taking it off to get a crackly effect. The scariest decision I made was to paint in the lantern. The painting was without the lantern most of the time, and I went back and forth between whether it was needed or not, and in the end, I added it.
Material:
I have chosen to work in Acrylic. I like how fast it dries, which aids in the speed in which I can layer and change the painting. Although I do put a lot of thought in my choices, this allows me to make more drastic choices more quickly, without thinking myself out of it. Altogether, acrylics allow me to work the way I want to while staying both thoughtful and intuitive. I also like the opaque/matte quality of acrylic color and I feel like it enhances the soft and dreamlike mood I wish to capture.
For these specific landscape paintings, any smaller would hinder the experience. In fact, they might be more successful if they were even larger. I want to create a space in which the viewer can enter and feels enveloped in. Also, if they were smaller, I would not be able to use the same techniques in more detailed areas. For example: when it is larger, layering and sanding and drawing can all come together to create a single leaf, where as in a smaller painting there is less room for this kind of mixing of techniques. If anything, I should begin to explore how I can make bigger paintings.
Content and Meaning:
My process is a struggle/journey. Since I don't plan how I want my paintings to end, I am forced to figure it out as I go and be sensitive to the way the choices I make while painting effect previous/future choices, etc... I attempt to stay detached and flexible while painting, so that I can be willing to correct mistakes, even if it means completely painting/sanding out something. I work intuitively--allowing myself to paint what I know, and also analytically, criticizing the decisions I make and trying to find new ways of approaching problems. These processes directly relate to my experience in these specific places (the ones depicted in the paintings) and the spiritual journey that they became personally symbolic of. It was in these places that I had "awe" moments where I was inspired by the setting to confront my spiritual beliefs and path. These internal moments can be a struggle between embracing a spiritual unknown and confronting doubt in spiritual truths I have been confident in. It is through these paintings that I re-visit these places, and in a sense, reenact the internal spiritual experience through the painting process.
I attempt to give a sense of this experience by the mood that is created in the painting through color and mark-making. The imagery of the painting is also intentional in creating a sense of place for the viewer. I do not think that my message is spelled out and I feel like it leaves room for the viewer to experience if for themselves and inspires questions.
I think my work remains personal as long as I remain sincere in my process. If I am really involved in the process (that was explained above) than the marks become unique and directly related to the image and the moment. If I start to become lost in a system that "works" then I lose my involvement and I lose my sincerity, and the painting begins to look generic. I am still working on this.
[How do stay simultaneously detatched and involved?]
Context:
The artists that have been most influencial to me include Piazoni, Luc Tuymans, Diebenkorn (and other Bay Area Figurative artists including David Park, Wayne Thiebaud, etc...), 17th cent. Japanese artists inlcuding Koran, Sotatsu, Hiroshige... And my more recent influences include Christopher Russell, Chris Brown, Tom McGrath, Lisa Sanditz, Narangkar Glover, Tom Uttech...
All of these are artists have influenced my current work in one way or another, and some have very obviously and directly influenced my work. I have been looking at Christopher Russell a lot lately and have been very intrigued by how he handles trees and branches--I tried to imitate some of his approaches in my most recent painting (see the branches). Piazoni has hugely influenced the way I look at landscapes and break up the shapes and use more toned, matte, softer colors. Also, Piazoni has encouraged my love of the Northern California landscapes. I use Dibenkorn's simplification of form, flattening of the picture plane, and layering of color. I imitate 17th cent. Japanese line work and composition techniques. I have especially been very influenced by Chris Brown's approach to process as he constantly changes and reworks things. Lisa Sanditz's conceptual and modern dealings with the sublime have been inspiring to me. I have attempted to learn from McGraths fluid use of the paint and how he deals with light and ambiguity. I tried to imitate Uttech's mist like atmosphere. I was very intrigued by Glover's rocks and stairs (compare her stairs in "Shangri-la school girls" to mine in "stairs at bodega"). [The more I analyze how I have been influenced by these artists the more I see the direct examples of where I "borrow" from them.]
When trying to think of an art movement or school to compare to, I normally think of the Bay Area Figurative movement, mainly because I have been influenced by the paintings that came out of this movement. I feel like I maintain some of the basic language that the Bay Area Figurative Movement developed, mainly the dialogue and balance between abstraction and representationalism, the focus on color, and other more formal aspects (line, shape, composition).
The other group that I would associate with would be those that are interested in the
"Sublime". This philosophical concept is in no way limited to the last 40 years, but it is somewhat
timeless, and is still being explored by artists today (Lisa Sanditz, Tom Uttech, etc...).
My work is relevant today in the sense that the concept is timeless. I am still learning and
developing my work and trying to find more ways to make it uniquely relevant. One of the concepts
that has been hugely influential to me is Ellaine Scarry's idea that seeing beauty inspires the viewer
to replicate it and create more beauty, and then in turn trains the viewer and the creator (the painter) to
see beauty more easily and appreciate it in everything--which in turn breeds justice. (that was the
very shortened and paraphrased version). I feel like the idea of beauty creating justice is necessary
today, considering all the injustices, and it is never irrelevant (although it is not always popular).
