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Showing posts from March, 2022

Art of Vice

“Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.” This comment by Robert Frost first came to my attention as an art student. I immediately made it my rule, more by instinct, than by reason. Liberal arts college art departments host a steady stream of visiting, post-graduate artists, all professionals of one kind or another, and each on the cutting edge. While all are engaging to hear lecture, a few push the limits of being challenging, going out of their way to be provocative. “Shock the bourgeoisie” was the battle cry of artists for so long that I expected no less when I matriculated. To be honest, I looked forward to it. In reality it was surprising how much had changed from what was contemporary when I was in school, and what had been asserted in preceding epochs, material by then familiar to all students of art. The new narrative was unexpected.  Thanks to sage advice, like the comment by Robert Frost, it began to make s...

Decline of the West

Homelessness is an imposition upon the good nature of everyone who is not homeless. I have strong feelings about it and, as an artist, concern for the feelings of everyone about homelessness. I must admit I am helpless to do anything about the homeless. Homelessness is, or should be, a civil matter. Independent giving may feel good–but it is not legitimate. One doesn't have to be a meddler to be concerned, or to become an activist, of sorts. What is to be done? Make propaganda! My artwork is my propaganda. It is a message. It is also, incidentally, aesthetic. I understand that the era of great art is over. This is not to eulogize over the glories of the past. It is a program for the present. Today, all art is either propaganda, or it is decorative. This is not to compare one to the other, but to contrast both to fine art, which, as said, is no longer an option. A word, in passing, about fine art. Masterpiece art was an achievement, culturally and personally, for the patron and the...

House of the Homeless

Even the planet Saturn has been implicated in the plight of the homeless. This is not a scientific assertion, but when science declines its opinion, it is not a scientific matter by default. We must, then, consider the alternatives, or look away. As homelessness is a problem in itself, and as it is disturbing to the rest of us, that makes it another problem altogether. It brings emotional disturbance causing the suffering of others.  When material progress is impeded, mythology speaks to the soul. It is of artistic interest in that some of the mythology attributed to Saturn derives from its appearance. It looks like nothing else in the night sky. Its color is a distinctive yellow, an unhealthy hue, which I would characterize as pekid (< pique, peak-ed), being pale, wan, emaciated, sickly in color. Saturn's jaundice color, and its slow, but relentless motion make it a matter of foreboding, symptomatic of disease. To say it is unlucky is an understatement. It is believed to be at...

A Play for the Heart

New paintings in oil of homeless men—street people—uploaded, after almost a year of studies limited to dry media on paper, and in acrylic paint on acetate. This subject and oil painting were made for each other. Poster paint, which is what acrylic paint is made for, does not lend itself well to expressionistic painting; unlike oil paints, which enable a virtually infinite range of gradations of blended color, hues, and tonal values, acrylic paint (as all water-based paint). Acrylic dries almost instantly, giving a distinct brush stroke, less effective than oils in making atmosphere palpable, depth being the difference between the flatness of poster art and easel painting. It makes for good camera-ready art, that is, art for print. Oil paint is notoriously unsuited for photo-reproduction, its inherent glossiness (for one thing) makes glare-free photography frustrating for the cameraman. Poster art is printed, therefore a process, unlike easel painting, which is as individual as the pain...