Eye roll


 
Worked on car details. The colouring just doesn’t seem rusty enough but that can be enhanced later with an orange glaze. Started the ball-of-wool eyeball which seems to anchor the composition nicely.
 
Next will be roughing in the foreground a little to work that into the overall scheme. I know it looks like little progress since the last entry but things are moving along…
 

 

Rust never sheeps

Things are slowly taking shape. I worked some more on the smoke clouds. The face is a little off on the right hand side. I don’t know if I like it being so noticeable and think it will look better re-worked and a little more subtle.

 
I also worked a little on defining some detail on the basket. It still needs more attention. Maybe a thin glaze of yellow on the highlight side and some magenta on the shadow side. I think my perspective is out of whack on the handle as well…

 
I also started to build up the colour on the car and give it some more detail and contour. I’m thinking know I’d like it to be corroded in spots, and have rusty trails dripping down at certain points. I think a nice rusty stain down from one eye socket would look cool. It would give the impression of a tear. I’ve also started to work more detail into the wolf.

 
Looking at everything in general the one neglected spot is still calling out for my eyeball of yarn in the bottom left. I really want to get the meat wheels right too, so I’ll have to get some reference images to make it look convincing. I actually can’t wait to get to Little Red but she needs to sit tight until I work out her background. As for the teeth on the skull/car? I still haven’t figured that out…

 

Lamb(s) to the (s)laughter

The painting is coming along as expected. I have to build up the thin layers of paint until a rich, full colour is attained. After focusing on the sky which is essentially the background, I moved toward the central figures, the sheep and the wolf. It occurred to me that the sheep is in a kind of masculine position if its location is construed as that of a mounting mate. Weird, because the car would then be in the female position, leaving the wolf in the womb of the car as some kind of perverse offspring. This is the crap that goes through my brain while I’m working on a piece. I never intended on this but there it is for someone to detect, if they’re tuned into that sort of interpretation.
 

 
The sheep could be pretty dynamic as a compositional figure because of the high-contrast from shadow to the highlights of the whiteness of its wool. I think it’s going to have  a lot of punch. The contrast of the smoke cloud in the background has also started to show some dramatic effect. I also think the candy-striped chimney is really going to pop and will add to the playful thematic contrast of  light (happiness factory and cloud) and dark (decay, deception) imagery. The cloud needs at least another layer of paint and then I’ll start working in the little smiley face elements and sharpening some of the chimneys.
 
The wolf has eyes without pupils, which lend to a sort of demonic appearance. The ambiguity of the sheep’s gaze also works for me. Is he freaked by the wolf, the skull, the meat or the eyeball in yarn (which has yet to be drawn in)? I always enjoy that kind of uncertainty because it will feed both sides of an interpretation, positive or negative.
 
I still haven’t given much thought to the ground and how to handle texture, colour or detail. I’ll keep it in mind as I go and will try to integrate it with the rest of the composition. I did just now think of molten slag, cooled and hardened into a sort of globby mass…we’ll see…
 

 

Pulling the wool over

I roughed out a photoshop version of an eyeball in a ball of wool. I think it will work in red to balance Red Riding Hood.
 
I think it should be looking back into the centre of the painting or maybe over to Little Red….creepy.
 

 

Bashing Acclaimed Artists

Is bashing famous artists a way to show off your own wit & genius, implying how much you are above them, or merely a display of a lack of style or is it neither?
Are witty insults the same as honesty? What are your thoughts?

Here are a few examples of historical “artistic” insults:

Frida Kahlo
Frida Kahlo on the European Surrealists:
“They are so damn ‘intellectual’ and rotten that I can’t stand them anymore… I’d rather sit on the floor in the market of Toluca and sell tortillas, than have anything to do with those ‘artistic’ bitches of Paris.”

 
Marc Chagall
Marc Chagall on Pablo Picasso:
“What a genius, that Picasso… It’s a pity he doesn’t paint.”

 
Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Pierre-Auguste Renoir on Leonardo da Vinci:
“He bores me. He ought to have stuck to his flying machines.”

 
Francis Bacon
Francis Bacon on Jackson Pollock:
“Jackson Pollock’s paintings might be very pretty but they’re just decoration. I always think they look like old lace.”

 
Andy Warhol
Andy Warhol on Jasper Johns:
“Oh, I think he’s great. He makes such great lunches.”

 
Michelangelo
Michelangelo on Raphael:
“Everything he knew, he learned from me.”

 
Salvador Dalí
Salvador Dalí on Jackson Pollock’s style:
“…The indigestion that goes with fish soup…”

 
Claude Monet
Claude Monet on the French Realists:
“Poor blind idiots! They want to see everything clearly, even through fog!”

 
Salvador DalíSalvador Dalí on Piet Mondrian:
“Completely idiotic critics have for several years used the name of Piet Mondrian as though he represented the sum mum of all spiritual activity. They quote him in every connection. Piet for architecture, Piet for poetry, Piet for mysticism, Piet for philosophy, Piet’s whites, Piet’s yellows, Piet, Piet, Piet… Well, I Salvador, will tell you this, that Piet with one ‘i’ less would have been nothing but pet, which is the French word for fart.”

 
Sources: Quotes via Flavorwire.com

Flying by the seat of my under-paints

Once the board had the roughed-in drawing, the whole thing gets a coat of primer, the cheaper the better. Thin primer allows the penciled image to show through and I can lay down the under-paint with the pencil drawing as a guide.
 
I re-paint certain details from the drawing in dark umber colours and give a little volume to some of the shapes. I may work this up a little at a time, adding other colours as I go…
 

 
The under-paint is like a scheme, determining where the colours go and what colours work best. I already decided I wanted purple shadowed smoke with a golden highlight. Little Red is obviously red so with those absolutes I have to consider how to make an interesting composition with those colour markers to work around. I think I’d like the sky kind of pale blue-green which will contrast nicely with the smoke. I’m just going to rough-in the colour and continue to build the intensity as I go.
 

 

Eye wool


 
 
 
A thought came to me in a little scribble. An eyeball entwined with wool… Playing on the saying “pulling the wool over ones eyes”.
 
I like how this fits with the sheep, the idea of deception and I just think it’s a really cool image, maybe.
 

I could stick it in the bottom left hand corner of the painting…hmmm
 
 
 

Seeing Red

Forget all the Freudian, symbolic hogwash for a second and think in terms of fairy tale mythology. Little Red Riding Hood, in most versions, is a tragic tale. She pays the price for not heeding her mother’s warnings and aside from being eaten by the wolf, her foolishness condemns Granny to the same fate. This tale probably evolved as a parable to warn children about straying from the path to avoid the dangers that lurk in the unknown. Strange that today, we admire those who stray from the path, courageously make their own destiny by ignoring the warnings of their timid elders and succeed in defying the odds. Except this isn’t completely true. We admire only those who succeed, and invariable avert our attentions away from the failures, which out-number the successes manifold. Western culture loves a rebel and probably accounts for the saccharine version of Little Red most often told today, in which Little Red miraculously survives by either outwitting the wolf or by being extracted from the gut of the wolf by the woodsman. Either way, here she is in my painting/drawing.
 

Obviously linked to the “wolf” in the wolf in sheep’s clothing aphorism she becomes a kind of witness to the central activity in the composition. The see-saw has a metronomic kind of time-keeping presence and as well the quality of a device of comparative measure as in it’s similarity to a scale.  In this sense Red is being evaluated comparatively to her goodies, and for the time being, seems to outweigh its value, which I’m sure the wolf would concur. The phantom pivot or fulcrum seems to be the decaying car (approximately where the engine would be) so it follows that humanity outweighs any commodity in this situation of mechanical rot. OK, I’m making this up as I go now, but it sounds convincing, no?
 
Little Red will introduce some needed colour to the bleak content. The clouds of smoke as well can be pretty dynamic if handled properly. I’m thinking of early morning clouds bathed in golden sunlight on one side and shadowed in deep purple on the other. I guess the sheep skin can get a bit of similar treatment. The reds of the meat wheels will offset Little Red somewhat and the car seems to be a dark rust colour in my mind (at this point anyway).
 
I primed the board right over the initial drawing. The lines still show throuh and on this I will begin the under-painting, beginning in burnt umber hues and slowly introducing colour. I still need to consider areas that have been unresolved and think some idea will come while the painting is under way….

 

Emergence of Red Riding Hood

So the drawing begins to take shape on the board. The wheels on the car have turned into steaks with bones as the hub caps. The butterflies have turned into happy faces, fitting in better with the happiness factory idea. The see-saw made the final cut and is integrated as a kind of phantom playground object with Little Red Riding Hood on one end and her basket of goodies on the other. I’ve roughed in a nose in the sky and think he’ll be breathing in a smiley face…
 
There are still some unresolved areas but I am itching to get to the painting and those unanswered questions will work themselves out as I go.
 

 

At Times I Almost Dream

Cleopatra by Michelangelo Buonarroti
At times I almost dream
I too have spent a life the sages’ way,
And tread once more familiar paths.
Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
Ages ago; and in that act, a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest, so
Instinct with better light let in by death,
That life was blotted out—not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
Dim memories, as now, when once more seems
The goal in sight again.

 
From “Paracelsus” by Robert Browning
 
 
 
 
 
 
Drawing: Cleopatra by Michelangelo Buonarroti

Butterfly factory

Everything that has been proposed so far seems a little dark, foreboding and maybe too negative, aside from the scraps of humour that may already be lost under this austere cloud. Speaking of clouds, I thought of tempering the harshness with a factory spewing smoke into the air, not evil pollution of the apathetic-corporate-stereotype kind, but rather a benign smoke of happiness and beauty. The kind of smoke that would emanate from factories in My Little Pony land, full of cotton candy, stars, hearts and butterflies…
 
The message here is two-fold. Aside from the metaphor of the “wolf in sheep’s clothing” which generally is construed as a deception, a con, a put on, pulling the wool over – there is also the con of the factory, which echoes the “responsible” corporation, one that touts an environmental stewardship but dumps waste into the river when no one’s looking. Appearances can be deceiving.
 
My thoughts about the old man with the see-saw through his mind are not making sense with the composition so far. There are some areas of the composition that need attention, areas A, B and C on the image below. Area A calls out for more symbolic decay. Area B may be a good spot for the “nose memory” image, a nose tooting up all the magic smoke. C could be a good spot for a sort of interlocutor, an innocent planted in the chaos. Maybe a play on Little Red Riding Hood?
 

I think the basic concept for the painting has taken shape. It may go in a different direction once I get started but it has a structure to build from and all the embellishments will dangle off of this core idea. Next step will be the initial drawing on the board which I will post in it’s various stages of completion. I usually allow for more ideas to be added once the painting has begun but a foundation concept is where I need to start from.

 

Wolves’ breakfast

I think the car has morphed into a meat car (sorry Lady Gaga). At the wheel is the wolf and he’s is devouring the vehicle. The deconstructed commentary here is interesting because it echoes the concerns often put forth by environment groups, ecologists, conservationists etc. regarding depleting  resources and shrinking habitats. The wolf is devouring his mode of transport (though I don’t think he’d get far in a meat car) and more importantly his shelter, his environment. The deception (sheepskin) now becomes his tenuous shelter, which I love. The idea that a deception can take on a beneficial role is just crazy!
 
I had previously mentioned the potential of including memory as a component and just moments ago I came across a note of mine that said “memory nose”. The power of the sense of smell as a potent link to memory is well documented. Perhaps there is something there…
 
I also had the idea of a see-saw balancing through an old man’s forehead (see the picture for a previous post labelled “little sparks”). The idea of balance and the objects facilitating this balance come into question. The thought occurred that on one end could be an object fixed in time, for example a young child, and at the other end, the object at another point in time, an old person. In this way an interesting play on time and memory could be plotted. I also like the playful notion of unrelated objects being linked by the see-saw, forcing the gamma wave brain functions to amplify. Why is that chocolate cake on one side and a telephone on the other? Why??? One thought I’m also warming to is that the objects be bisected halves of the same object. The first thought was an upper torso on one end, up in the air, and the lower torso on the low end. I like the detached, disembodied duality that hearkens to the mind/body paradox. Clearly we infer that the legs have a “mind” of their own in a situation as absurd as this. I love the unsettling nature of a character forced into confronting themselves, whether psychological or in this case physical as well.
 
God, I have to start on the real sketch soon, this digital one is making me mental!
 

 

Counting sheep

Normally while I am finishing a piece I am formulating  my next project in my head. Since I need to keep busy, one painting follows another in an endless chain. For this project I am midway through a current painting (commission portrait of Frida Kahlo) and am documenting my ideas for the forthcoming painting in public on this blog. It kind of forces me into a weird spot because once thoughts are typed down they obtain a certain concrete reality that is normally only a shapeless little storm cloud in my head. In that sense, what I write may be miles away from what I paint or may be very faithful to my words. I’ve often wondered how much influence J.K. Rowling’s film versions of her books had on her subsequent stories in the Harry Potter series. It’s kind of a strange notion that someone else’s interpretation of your work could influence your future work. I kind of feel like that’s where I’m at right now because my “literal” self, which is my fictional self since I’m no writer, is informing my “artistic” self. I’m trying to be true to my thoughts as they roll out but finding it difficult to track since I’m not always at a computer and things that may be important may not get recorded. I guess I asked for it….

I think I’ve arrived at a core or central image, the rotting car seems to be stuck in my mind so I will build on it. My “wolf in sheepskin” is starting to force itself on me and the rotting car for that matter. I think the sheep is going to take a prominent position just behind the car. I want the sheep to be animated, not just a skin, as if it still has a perspective on the world in spite of being the shell of the “wolf”.
 
The “wolf’ is now a point of consideration…will it be a literal wolf, figurative wolf or purely symbolic? I think the role of a menacing, threatening entity is the reflexive, obvious response but I also wonder about turning the stereotype upside-down. A sheep in sheep’s clothing?

 

Bay of Plenty

A surrealist essay by Dermot Healy

 
They say a walk on the beach is therapeutic and a damn fine thing to do in preference to playing golf or indeed playing golf.
 
It was with this not in mind that I rambled uneasily onto the beach recently. Uneasily I say in that I always approach open spaces with a sense of distrust, you know there’s going to be a day when open spaces necessarily become less and less open, and then one day you arrive and its full up, no parking, just wall to wall ice cream vans.
 
Clearing my lungs of stale air and retching with the attempt I stepped boldly onto the wet sand and scanned the horizon suspiciously.
 
Its better when scanning the horizon to do so with suspicion, a sense of National pride infuses the soul and the distant strains of the National Anthem arise within.
 
Today, I noticed a boat going gently through the bay, I believe it was Shakira gyrating on the bow, but it could have been anyBODY.
 
In the distance a lone figure ambled by the rocks along the waters edge, this fellow was familiar and indeed a comfortable presence, we had met before. Ignoring Shakira, as usual, I set out with my mind occupied by the usual coincidences of life, the tide and times of a soul less visited, less rewarded by experience.
 
There were two rocks toward the centre of the beach, my friend looked like he was making toward them to sit for a while, so I joined him. We engaged in polite conversation, some observations of the popstars efforts to gain credibility, and other asides.
 
Truth was we came here often, most days in fact. He was the negative, I was the positive. He observed the ebbing tide, and I the rising tide. We observed the water, all that separated us was the hidden understanding of where we both were. Today was no different, he complained of his past experiences, always looking to be heard where he never had a voice, always looking for a different answer to the question he refused to pose. I grew tired easily, this wasted time bothered me, we were equally impatient with tidal movements within and without. Shakira could sing and dance and neither of us could hear, and we both loved music. This beach was a barren place, there were no other souls sharing it, ever. Tides came and went but our rocks remained where we wanted them to be, obvious and black.
 
He began to come less frequently, he seemed less interested in how I was.
 
I fell in love with Shakira.
 
The End.
 


Dermot HealyDermot Healy (born September 5, 1956) is an Irish poet and essayist with strong ties to music and a distinctive way of self-expression. His words gently embrace the subject and hover around it while painting the picture within.
He is one of the great undiscovered poets of the world who, for the time being, continues to accumulate a wealth of literary sparks at the safest of all locations to be revealed and smashed upon the public at a slow but steady pace.

Car rot

Sketched a rotting car. Looks cartoonish, but rather that than too slick. I like the realm of the so-called “uncanny valley”, where images have a real enough quality about them but also an unsettling detachment from photo-reality. Otherwise why not just take photos and use photoshop?
 
Thinking also about the “wolf in sheepskin”. I love the look of sheepskin and how wildlife painters can nail this so convincingly – I have to look around for some examples to study. Good old google images.
 
I think I will start sketching the car onto the board and see where that leads me…
 

 

Surrealist Automatism

Automatic writing is one of the most direct techniques of Surrealist Automatism. This is not necessarily the same as the Automatic Writing that is said to be connected to the spirit world.

In the first Manifesto of Surealism from 1924 surrealism was described as follows: 
Pure psychic automatism, by which one proposes to express, either verbally, or in writing, or by any other manner, the real functioning of thought. Dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason, outside of all aesthetic and moral preoccupation.”

~ André Breton

 
Sit at a table with pen and paper; put yourself in a ‘receptive’ frame of mind, and start writing. Continue writing without thinking of what is appearing beneath your pen. Write as fast as you can. If, for some reason, the flow stops, leave a space and immediately begin again by writing down the first letter of the next sentence. Choose this letter at random before you begin, for instance, a ‘s’, and always begin this new sentence with a ‘s’.
 
Automatic drawing by André Masson
In the purest version of automatism nothing is corrected or re-written, however the produced material can be used as a basis for further composition. What is crucial is the free-association that creates the basic text.
 
Automatic writing is writing directed by the unconscious mind. It is sometimes called ‘trance’ writing because it is done quickly and without judgment, writing whatever comes to mind, ‘without consciousness’, as if in a trance. It is believed that this allows one to tap into the subconscious mind where ‘the true self’ dwells. Uninhibited by the conscious mind, deep and mystical thoughts can be accessed.
 
By the way, the same principle works with drawing as well. In that case it is, very suitably, called automatic drawing.

Little sparks…

Some context: I live in a community that builds cars. My brother builds them, I know dozens of people who build them, it’s part of our culture. Although I live in Canada, the influence of Detroit (the so-called auto capital of the world which is just across the river) is inescapable. The slow death of the industrial age has impacted Detroit like no other city. It is a city in decay.
 
Enter the theme of decay. I’m intrigued by it’s potential as a commentary anchor. It could relate directly to the things everyone sees or maybe more subtly, almost psychological, on a level that only enters the mind as a concept. My initial thoughts are to use it very graphically. Like a decaying car, decomposing into its skeletal framework. I think this imagery could be a good focal point to build around.
 
For some other reason, I was listening to Amon Duul II’s Tanz der Lemminge, and their line in cartoonish-German-English accent “wolf in sheep clothing” struck me as very funny because of the delivery and yet very visual. I started envisioning the skeletal car obscured by a sheep skin, deceptively hiding the truth of its decay. Maybe some evil force also lurks below the skin?
 
Last night I got an email from a fellow artist, Danah, who was exhibiting in a gallery I co-own, along with myself and others. She wondered if I had ever done any paintings with “memory” as a key component. Specifically, I haven’t, so that got me thinking about memory. The first thought is Dali’s Persistence of Memory, but that image is so iconic it would be too obvious for me to just plug it into my work. Maybe it would be more interesting to integrate some kind of memory component into a character or subject in the painting. Now I have Pink Floyd lyrics populating my head “The memories of a man in his old age, are the deeds of a man in his prime”. Maybe an old man reflecting….
 
I just realized as well, that decay is a form of representing memory. The decomposing object harkens in shape and form to its former self, hence a sort of memory-link to the past. Hmmm…

 

A Dialogue with Brian Despain

“I love the idea of artists interviewing other artists. They are more likely to ask interesting questions, and there is something like a camaraderie in it as well. Even if the two artists don’t know each other personally, I believe there is a kind of respect among artists. You know what it means to be one, so you have to respect anyone making a similar life choice. There is a certain beauty to it, and since I like to surround myself with beauty of all sorts, I have decided to interview artists I consider exceptional and worth talking to. I hope you enjoy my choices!”

Sabina Nore

Brian Despain is an artist I discovered back in 2007 when I deeply fell in love with one of his paintings. Today it is my pleasure to not only once again feature that painting as part of the beautiful art series, but also introduce you to the quirky artist himself. So read on…
 
Brian Despain

The Original Dialogue

Sabina Nore talking to Brian Despain

 

 

Basics and the Banal

Sabina: What makes you angry?
Brian:

Lack of situational awareness. I absolutely hate it, for instance, when someone parks their shopping cart right next to another cart effectively blocking the entire aisle for everyone. It takes so little effort to realize there’s other people in the world and yet so few people ever do.
 
The Bartlett Regicide

Sabina: What inspires you?
Brian:

Great art.
 

Sabina: What’s your favorite formality?
Brian:

Black tie.
 

Sabina: What’s your favorite tradition?
Brian:

The weather watch on Saint Swithin’s Day.
 

Sabina: What’s your least favorite thing to do?
Brian:

Anything I have to do. Art jobs, chores, cook, clean, whatever’s currently on my “to do” list.
 

Sabina: What’s your favorite color? Why?
Brian:

Green. Because it’s awesome.
 

Sabina: If you could be, or transform into anyone for one day, to then be yourself again at the end of day, who would you be and why?
Brian:

Paul Newman, because then I could come up with some crazy new salad dressings and people would have to make them. “That’s right, I said creamy bacon and raccoon. Now make it bitches!”
 

The First Steps

Sabina: When did you first know you are an artist?
Brian:

At about 14-18 years old. Prior to that I did art, but around high school I finally realized that art would be my career path.
 
Haunting

Sabina: Were your artistic inclinations supported by your family?
Brian:

Yes and no. My parents always supported my art with praise and by giving me supplies and they never forbade me to pursue a career in it but it wasn’t until I became successful at it my father admitted that he was a little disappointed in my aspirations while I was growing up. Until I proved otherwise he thought I was headed down a road of hardship and poverty.
 

Sabina: Did you have a favorite painter growing up? Who, would you say, has influenced you the most?
Brian:

I had favorite artists that were not necessarily painters. I was big into comic strips and even danced with the idea of being a strip artist for a while. As such my biggest influence growing up was Berke Breathed.
 

Sabina: As you have always been a fan of comics you must have had a favorite comic book hero or two growing up. Who was it?
Brian:

Dare Devil and Batman.
 

Sabina: What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever received regarding art?
Brian:

Use bigger brushes.
 
Ghost in the Shell
 

The Art

Sabina: Your artworks are otherworldly and nowadays with the vast amount of descriptive titles for imaginary art, I hear they are coined almost daily, if you had to, what name would you invent for your art?

Unnatural Selection

Brian:

Neo-symbolic.
 

Sabina: Has your approach to painting and art changed over time, in any way?
Brian:

Of course. Art is simply the physical manifestation of an artist, their skills, their ideology, their idiom, etc. Because we humans are always changing, both physically and mentally our art is also changing.
 

Sabina: Did you ever create a painting you couldn’t part from?
Brian:

No. In fact I want them out of my sight. The sooner the better.
 

Sabina: I understand you are familiar with a number of artistic media, digital and traditional. Which art medium do you favor at the moment and why?
Brian:

I have no favorite really. Each is handy for a specific purpose and for a specific reason so I use whatever fits best given the task at hand.
 

You and Others

Sabina: If you could erect a monument to any person, alive or dead, to be placed in front of your house, who would it be?

Abe Vigoda

Brian:

Abe Vigoda.
 

Sabina: Would the answer be different if the placement of the monument were elsewhere?
Brian:

No.
 

Sabina: How do you feel about teaching art? Have you done it? Could you imagine doing it?
Brian:

I teach people art all the time. It’s rarely in a formal setting, more handing out advice and critiques over the internet but the results are the same. I have taught a couple of classes here and there but don’t think I’d like to pursue that venue too strongly. I prefer the intimacy and directness of one on one of mentoring.
 
The Longest Ride

Sabina: If you could have a group exhibit with any three artists that are currently alive, whom would you choose?
Brian:

James Jean, Jeremy Enecio, and Rick Berry
 

Sabina: Lastly, a classic interview question, but an important one none the less. What would be your message to aspiring artists?
Brian:

Always be true to yourself when it comes to your art. The person that uses art as a means to an end will always fall short.
 

Practically Speaking…

Sabina: If someone would like to buy one of your paintings, what would be the best way to do that?
Brian:

and send me money.
 

Dessert

Just like an exquisite dessert is the perfect conclusion to a good meal, so is an old Ego Dialogues favorite the perfect conclusion to this interview. If you are a regular visitor, then you already now what it is…

 
Ninth Angel

“Ninth Angel” by Brian Despain

Remembering Philippe Halsman

Philippe Halsman was a photographer. Born on May 2nd 1906 as Филипп Халсман in the Russian Empire, he died 1979 in New York City. His path led him from Riga in the Russian Empire to Dresden, Germany where he studied, to Austria, where he was sentenced to prison, to France where his work started to appear in fashion magazines, to finally end up in the United States as the war broke out, helped by Albert Einstein, who was a family friend. He is consequently known as an American portrait photographer.
 
My interest in Halsman came through his collaboration with Salvador Dali that began in the late 1940s. The most famous piece of their collaboration is a photograph called Dali Atomicus, published in 1948.  It took them 28 attempts to get it right. Here is the unretouched version of the photograph:

Dali Atomicus, photograph by Philippe Halsman

The photograph shows three cats, the splash from a bucket of water, Salvador Dali in mid-air, and Dali’s painting Leda Atomica in the corner. The title (Dali Atomicus) is a reference to the Dali’s painting (Leda Atomica).
 

Real-life Surrealism?

A funny bit of information is that the year of Dali’s Leda Atomica is, internet-wide, released as 1949, which would certainly make the above photograph even more surrealistic! So according to Wikipedia, Answers.com, and dozens of other websites, the photograph shows a painting that hasn’t yet been painted…  Of course if anyone would care to look again and cross-examine a bit, they would see that Leda Atomica is actually estimated between 1947 and 1949 which does indeed make the above 1948 photograph possible. Not so surrealistic after all.
 

An Ode to Facial Adornment

Dali's Mustache
Dali's Mustache, book by Philippe Halsman and Salvador Dali

Dali and Halsman went on to publish a book together in 1954 called “Dali’s Mustache”. The book shows us 36 views of the artist’s immortal facial adornment. Here are a couple of the photographs from the book:

Dali's mustache, photograph by Philippe Halsman Dali's mustache, photograph by Philippe Halsman

From the book description: “As Halsman explains in his postface, Dali’s Mustache is the fruit of this marriage of the minds. The jointly conceived and seemingly nonsensical questions and answers reveal the gleeful humor and assumed cynicism for which Dali is famous, while the marvelous and inspired images of Dali’s mustache brilliantly display Halsman’s consummate skill and extraordinary inventiveness as a photographer.
 
This combination of wit, absurdity, and the offhandedly profound is irresistible and has contributed to the enduring fascination inspired by this unique photographic interview, which has become a cult classic and valuable collector’s item since its original publication in 1954. The present volume faithfully reproduces the first edition and will introduce a new generation to the irreverent humor and imaginative genius of two great artists.”

 

By the way, here is the official and finished version of Dali Atomicus:

Dali Atomicus, photograph by Philippe Halsman

…4, 3, 2, 1


Blastoff!
 
The intention of this series of postings is to document the creative process, from the germination of the initial idea that tips the scale and forces me to create, all the way to the conclusion (the work of art) with all the steps and missteps in between. It will be a kind of chronological journal.
 
At this point I don’t have any direction. All I have is the cumulative jumble of ideas that have collected in my head, waiting to congeal and squeeze their way into shape in oil paint. Having just completed a painting based on the The Beatles’ “I Am the Walrus” for a show entitled “Under the Influence of Music” and currently working on a commission piece for a fellow artist, which at her request, is to be a portrait of Frida Khalo, I give my most recent “artistic” frame of mind some context.
 
Before I get into it I want to thank Sabina for agreeing to indulge me on this project and hopefully I can shed some interesting light on my creative process…

 

A Dialogue with Stephen Gibb

“I love the idea of artists interviewing other artists. They are more likely to ask interesting questions, and there is something like a camaraderie in it as well. Even if the two artists don’t know each other personally, I believe there is a kind of respect among artists. You know what it means to be one, so you have to respect anyone making a similar life choice. There is a certain beauty to it, and since I like to surround myself with beauty of all sorts, I have decided to interview artists I consider exceptional and worth talking to. I hope you enjoy my choices!”

Sabina Nore

Stephen Gibb is a contemporary artist with a strong inclination towards the surreal and an apparent tendency towards clocks and dodo birds.
 
He is not only an original painter but also an interesting individual so you are likely to enjoy the following dialogue as well as Stephen’s artworks.

Stephen Gibb

The Original Dialogue

Sabina Nore talking to Stephen Gibb

 

 

Basics and the Banal

Sabina: What makes you angry?
Stephen:

Condescension. Anyone talking down to me makes me furious. I may not be as smart, as pretty or as rich as the next guy but guess what – humans have evolved to a point where they should respect one another. If class, race and faith differences were meaningless because of mutual respect think of where that would put us.
 

Sabina: What inspires you?
Stephen:

People. That is certain people. The ones who coast through life without reflection. The ones who follow the sheep in front of them because their inner vision has been narrowed to the point where only the tail wagging in front of them is visible. The ones who emulate, aspire and idolize the false gods presented to them by TV and other mass media, as if to do so magically includes them in the charade of modern mythology. These people inspire me to live my life unlike them.
Really – anything and everything at any time can inspire. A conversation, a miss-heard word, a photo, a story, failure…I process whatever comes my way and when something resonates enough, it prompts a response or a commentary in some artistic form. I find my interest in human nature, how we think, perceive and why we behave the way we do is always informing my work.

The chicken-egg paradox is further confounded by neuroscience

Sabina: What’s your favorite formality?
Stephen:

This kind of stumps me. Formality strikes me as a kind of rule imposed by authority and I chronically resist authority. I also think of formal dress which you will not catch me wearing. I don’t even own a suit. If by formality you mean some kind of social ritual – I’m still stumped. I do try to behave and use good table manners…

Sabina: That’s good to hear. I’m sure your table companions are happy about that too. As for a “favorite formality”, what if you were to look at that question with your surrealist glasses on?
Stephen:

My favourite formality is putting on my surrealist glasses, preferably sunglasses so as not to appear too bookish (Man Ray frames, Flank Lloyd Wright castoffs). I LOVE the absurdities of the world and through the lens of surrealism the strangeness of everyday life gets amplified to a blinding clarity. They keep me paranoid, yet focussed and they blur out the annoying inanities like politics (or maybe that’s just selective attention). Humans have an innate way of avoiding things that disgust them, it’s a universal law (picture a lawyer with surrealist glasses and white cane in hand), though I admit to occasionally ogling road kill, strictly for scientific purposes. That being said, I conclude politics = road kill.
Now that I have my surrealist specs on I can see that I have inadvertently inverted your questions of about what inspires me and what angers me…my apologies. My second favourite formality is correct spelling. Since I’m Canadian I spell favorite with a “U” – favourite. Now I have a headache from eye-strain.
 
Unforgiving Nature of Time Well-Wasted

Sabina: What’s your favorite tradition?
Stephen:

Wearing my Christmas crown (for the benefit of my kids) when decorating the house at Christmastime.
 

Sabina: What’s your least favorite thing to do?
Stephen:

Go to funerals alone.
 

Sabina: What’s your favorite color? Why?
Stephen:

100% yellow, 30% cyan. It’s sort of chartreuse green. Makes me happy.
 

Sabina: If you could be, or transform into anyone for one day, to then be yourself again at the end of day, who would you be and why?
Stephen:

I guess my wife. I feel like I’d owe it to her to see what she has to endure by being my mate. Not that I’m a bad mate but if I could really understand her perspective, think of how that would connect us. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t want to know…

 

The First Steps

Sabina: When did you first know you are an artist?

Culmination of life experience reduced to a metaphysics of evolution and art

Stephen:

When I was about 7. The kids in my class saw my drawings and paintings and asked me if I was going to be an artist when I grew up. I said I already was.

 

Sabina: Were your artistic inclinations supported by your family?
Stephen:

Yes. My parents are both fair at drawing and very good with making things. I think they may have wondered about my choice of going to art school but they didn’t fuss too much.

 

Sabina: Did you have a favorite painter growing up? Who, would you say, has influenced you the most?
Stephen:

I think I knew about Norman Rockwell as a very little kid and he sort of represented a “real” artist to me. I think I leaned about narrative story telling through art from him. Then I discovered Bosch and Dali and I thought ‘Hey, I’m not so different after all’. I think the influence of Dali was one of freedom, a way to liberate the subject matter from itself or enfold it onto itself on a deeper level. A landscape didn’t have to be just a landscape or still life just a bowl of fruit. I still maintain a sort of narrative hold on the concepts though, not giving over 100% to the so-called “subconscious”.

 

Sabina: What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever received regarding art?
Stephen:

“She’s just jealous” which was on the heels of the worst advice regarding art that I ever got.

 

The Art

Sabina: Your artworks are very “out of the box”. Which artistic media do you most commonly use and why?
Stephen:

Oil paint on MDF (medium density fibreboard). I like the surface of MDF as opposed to canvas. I can cut it into shapes or just leave it rectilinear. I also really love the visual presence of what oil can accomplish. In certain light it is magic (if I’ve been successful). You just can’t accomplish the same effect with acrylic. There’s something almost luminescent and sculptural about it.
Blinded by Rage, Paralysed by Fear, by Stephen Gibb

Sabina: Why do you paint?
Stephen:

Sculpture is too much work.

 

Sabina: Has your approach to painting and art changed over time, in any way?
Stephen:

It changes all the time. If you were to ask me for an “artist statement” and then ask me again in a month’s time it wouldn’t be the same. I’m constantly responding to myself and reacting to external influences. It makes me insane to see someone with obvious talent locking into a shtick and repeating the formula over and over. I do ride a series of similar-styled paintings for a while but I ultimately succumb to inspirations that lead in other directions.
 
That being said, there is a consistent Steve-Gibb style that emerges. Just a look back at the last ten years’ worth of paintings will confirm that.

 

Sabina: Did you ever create a painting you couldn’t part from?
Stephen:

Not yet. Wonder what that would be like?
 

Meteoric rise and fall of the majestic red dodo

You and Others

Sabina: If you could erect a monument to any person, alive or dead, to be placed in front of your house, who would it be?
Stephen:

If I were 15 it would have been Jimi Hendrix but that seems silly to me now. I’m not really one for hero worship.

 

Sabina: Would the answer be different if the placement of the monument were elsewhere?
Stephen:

No

 

Sabina: How do you feel about teaching art? Have you done it? Could you imagine doing it?
Stephen:

I have no inclination to teach. I showed up at an art class recently with the intention of “helping” the instructor and ended up just drawing pictures for all the kids.
Now if someone approached me and asked if I would walk them through my method and they were serious about learning, I wouldn’t hesitate, but I’m no teacher.

 

Sabina: If you could have a group exhibit with any 3 artists that are currently alive, whom would you choose?
Stephen:

Anyone who would have me. My criteria are of acceptance not starry-eyed adulation. If someone asked me to be in a show, that is the honour in itself. If you’re fishing for who it is that I most admire in the contemporary art world then I’d say Maurizio Cattelan, Jenny Saville and maybe Glenn Brown. I’d never want to exhibit with them though because they’d squash me. I guess I’d be most comfortable in the sort of Pop Surrealism/Lowbrow crowd. People like Mark Ryden, Todd Schorr and maybe Ron English. Still squashed though.

 

Sabina: Here’s a classic interview question, but an important one none the less: What would be your message to aspiring artists?
Stephen:

Don’t expect it to all work out but if you HAVE to be an artist then DO IT and KEEP doing it!
 

Time desecrates the fossil record

Dali Java, by Stephen Gibb
 

Practically Speaking…

Sabina: How do you like your coffee?
Stephen:

One sugar and a drop of milk, every 2 hours…

 

Sabina: If someone would like to buy one of your paintings, what would be the best way to do that?
Stephen:

. I don’t bite (much) and my prices haven’t reached the unattainable level yet.

 

Behind the Curtain

I like to point out that there is always something behind the curtain. While this interview with Stephen Gibb already provides you with a glimpse into the artist’s mind, he has also agreed to share a few of his sketches and doodles! These have never been published anywhere before, so it is my special privilege to share this treasure with you today.
Sketches by Stephen Gibb Sketches by Stephen Gibb Sketches by Stephen Gibb

Click on any of the pages above to see the enlarged view.

Cuppa Art

So exactly how hot do you like your coffee? Spitting fire hot? It’s served.

A very hot cup of coffee

I know coffee art is a big hit and there are many awesome examples of it, but not this awesome. Plus, a fire-spitting dragon in a cup keeps your beverage nice and warm. You can drink it, frame it, or take a picture of it, as Jennifer Robblee did so that the whole world can be amazed with this barista’s handiwork.

A very hot cup of coffee

Inner Strength

I stumbled across a little poem of sorts on inner strength that I think is worth sharing, worth reading and, possibly, worth discussing.. First, read it.

Inner Strength

If you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,

If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

If you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it,

If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,

 

If you can overlook when people take things out on you when,

through no fault of yours, something goes wrong,

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can face the world without lies and deceit,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can relax without liquor,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

If you can do all these things,

 

Then you are probably the family dog.

 

So ok, first impression, it’s funny. Second impression, what a nice excuse to never evolve. It’s like the “good” old saying “I’m only human” whenever something isn’t easy.

Third thought, what a nice advertisement for the pharmaceutical industry (and a few others) to include things like “pep pills”, sleeping pills or medical help for tension (!!) into such a list. Argh…. So, it can either be taken as humor only, and in that case not very funny, or simply as pathetic. You choose! Or, feel free to present an alternative.

 

Extraordinarily Artistic Album Covers

Amidst masses of cheesy to tacky to plainly ordinary album covers you can find a few that stand out. The concept of album cover art isn’t as old as music albums. At first it was all very plain. Then one day in 1938 a graphic designer called Alex Steinweiss thought it was time to step up the ladder and introduced the concept of album art. He is officially the inventor of album covers or cover art and the designer of about 2500 album covers. Since then numerous artists (and others) have had a go at this branch of art and here and now is a collection of the most extraordinary and artistic album covers ever created.

I like to remind people that the concept of beauty and experience of art are highly subjective, and so is the idea of something being extraordinary or worth mentioning. So, I hope you enjoy my personal and very subjective selection of artistic album covers.

 

1969 King Crimson: In the Court of the Crimson King

King Crimson: In The Court of The Crimson King

A debut album no less. Progressive rock, extra-ordinary album cover, extra-ordinary music too! This one is a winner all the way around.

Artist: Barry Godber, who died of a heart attack (at the age of 24!)  shortly after the album was released. The cover is now owned by Robert Fripp, the guitarist of King Crimson and according the the Rolling Stone magazine one of the “100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time”.

“Peter brought this painting in and the band loved it. I recently recovered the original from EG’s offices because they kept it exposed to bright light, at the risk of ruining it, so I ended up removing it. The face on the outside is the Schizoid Man, and on the inside it’s the Crimson King. If you cover the smiling face, the eyes reveal an incredible sadness. What can one add? It reflects the music.”

Robert Fripp

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Shortest Story Ever Told

Ernest Hemingway

It is said that the shortest story ever told was written by the then young Ernest Hemingway, who said he could write a complete story in only six words!

 

His colleagues disagreed, and each bet 10$ against the claim.

 

Hemingway wrote down the words on a napkin
and passed it around.

 

Everyone agreed that he won the bet.

 

Here is the shortest story ever told:

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