Painting in the World

New Work on Site

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 14:25:00 +0000

Just a quick news brief that I've posted new work on the drawings and paintings pages of my site.

My site is also ready for the iPhone! If you're on your iPhone right now, check it out!

Full circle

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:12:00 +0000

Its really wonderful how some things come full circle.

Artists seek inspiration from many places. I'm a firm believer that good artists are "working" all the time. Getting a coffee, watching a movie, writing, walking. All activities in an artist's life influences their work for better or for worse. Whether planned or impulsive, the actions of an artist have an effect on their energy, their thinking, their attitude about their work.

I began painting when I was fourteen, and I became keenly aware of how my actions affected my work even at that early age. The movies I watched especially gave me some much hope, showing me light at the end of the many long, dark tunnels. It probably sounds odd, but the movie Clueless, was a big point of inspiration during my rough middle and high school years. Cher, the main character (Alicia Silverstone) was gorgeous, fun-loving and smart, yet made mistakes. She sought a particular ideal life but slowly realized the path to the life she was supposed to lead was right in front of her. Having this movie as a touchstone during my formative years as a young woman, and a painter, was important.

However I didn't realize how important until last week.

During a break at work, I was visiting boston.com and saw that Alicia Silverstone was promoting her book The Kind Diet at part of the Boston Book Festival at the Boston Public Library.

To step back for a moment, I must add to what I said above: another extremely powerful influence on an artist can be their diet and exercise routine. An imbalance in this area can have dire consequences on one's work in the long and short term.

Silverstone's book is focused on veganism, which may not be suitable for everyone. I was raised on a more eastern, vegetarian diet called macrobiotics, so I feel very inclined towards what Silverstone is recommending. The wonderful thing about her book is that its not only recipes. Its filled with knowledge about the food industry, how to balance your diet and lifestyle (how to make time to be healthy) and how to improve your outlook on food, in general.

When I saw Silverstone was going to be in Boston, I knew I had to go. It was raining that day, and as I walked to the library, the filthy city rainwater saturated my pant legs, reminding me of long lonely walks to the studio while I was at BU.

As I walked through the halls of the library to find the Silverstone's lecture, I remembered many a night scouring their shelves for the best art history books.

As I waited in line for the lecture to begin, I remembered waiting for countless visiting artist lectures at BU, surrounded by other eager art students desperate to hear the knowledge our elders had to bestow.

Silverstone's lecture was excellent. She focused on how clean and healthy you feel after improving your diet, sharing stories of helping friends with their diets, and how she helped herself to address own health concerns with diet. Most importantly for artists, how much energy you have after getting rid of toxic foods. After reducing your caffeine intake, as well as dairy and meat products, your general vibration and output into the world will be greatly improved.

Most artists don't connect the fog of poor diet with struggles in the studio. As an actress, Silverstone needs to maintain her health and have energy to take care of herself, her family and her career. You could tell from her presentation how important getting this message to the masses was. Her site, thekindlife.com has blog posts and information about the lifestyle she's promoting, as well as stories from her fans and readers.

I encourage anyone to read the book or visit her site and see was ways you can improve your health and lifestyle. We don't all have to go so far as being vegan, but there are so many little ways to improve. Do you really need that third cup of coffee of the day at 4:30? Do you really need that extra slice of cheese in your sandwich? Is it so bad to replace a meat side dish with more nourishing bean dish occasionally?

Thanks for reading this post. I know its not directly art related, but in a way, if your health and energy isn't directly related to your studio practice, I don't know what is.

If any of you have thoughts or ideas on diet relating to your work, please comment!

Back in the saddle

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 17:45:00 +0000

Hey everyone!

I was shocked and appalled to see I had not written on this blog since late May...despicable! I had thought it had been much more recently.

Since showing at the Bowery Gallery in their Annual Competition in July of this year, I've been focused on improving my studio practice and getting a better space. I felt a need for a little radio silence to focus on broader issues, so I didn't have quite the same intent to write on the blog. However, I didn't realize so much time had passed.

A better painting area has now been established which will result in more work and also more opportunities to write. I'd like to get back to the original intent of this blog and share my thoughts or feelings about being a young painter in the world. I will try to write at least monthly or bi-weekly on expectations of myself and the art world, as well as the progress of my personal and professional goals.

One of my life goals as an artist was to see U2 in concert. I know it sounds random, but as a creative persona in my life, they practically raised me. When I think about what an artist should be - personally, professionally, etc. - I think of U2. They work constantly, associate themselves with great projects, maintain their health, and keep a positive attitude about life and working. In addition to all this, they continue to set the standard of what rock stars should be not only in their spectacular tours but in the quality of their music. They push their talents and experiment as much as possible.

Earlier in the year, I made the leap and bought tickets for their 360 tour. I couldn't believe I actually possessed U2 tickets but I did and couldn't wait for the day.

September 20 - Gillette Stadium - 9:05pm. Finally I got to see them.

It was truly life-affirming. Even being stuck in traffic en route was actually inspiring. All these headlights lining up ad infinite tum, gathering to see 4 guys on a stage. It is miraculous that the talent and brains of 4 Irish guys can gather thousands of people, make them endure all sorts of stress and rigor, just to be close to them and near their talent. As a young artist it is absolutely inspiring to see that good work can still have such a profound effect on the masses, that quality and work ethic still mean something.

The show was beautiful, to say the least. They played all my favorite songs; both classics and songs from the new album. I suppose it all could have been an act, but the band, especially Bono, seemed truly touched by how moved and passionate the crowd was. I'm sure it never gets old: having 68, 000 people recite back to you lyrics you toiled over years ago, while you hang out with your best friends on a huge stage of your creation, and travel the world. They had big smiles on their faces the whole show, and their voices were in peak condition. There were no technical flaws, no screw-ups or missteps. They must have rehearsed endlessly, and with 30 years of performing under their belts, they nailed the theatrics of the night to a T.

Speaking of T, they made references throughout the night to Boston things; the T, Oak Grove, Boylston, being Irish, etc. and of course the crowd went nuts. Nice touch.

U2 - such a small name for such a big band. I'll never forget it for the rest of my life. To see such power and talent make such an impact on so many people was the most inspirational thing I have ever experienced. If my work can someday create a small fraction of the impact that U2 has with their work, I'd be one happy painter.

The Big Show at Silas Marder Gallery

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 27 May 2009 21:05:00 +0000

Hi there!

I know its been a while since I've written, but the last few months have been about hiding in my studio and working. I'm so glad I did!

Sometimes when you clear your head and focus, that's when great things happen. You open up your vision and positive things come to you. My studio practice was getting pretty challenging earlier in the year, but I was determined to work through it. For some that is not the solution, but for me that is always the one thing I can rely on to get me through tough times - the work.

One day, I was pleasantly surprised to see an e-mail in my inbox. Silas Marder Gallery was inviting me to do three new pieces on canvases they would provide, 8 x 10 each. Any subject, any composition, as long as it was uniquely my own work.

Wow.

I was so excited. It was so flattering and fantastic to be invited to a group show AND to be asked to make new work. Somehow, despite my struggles in the studio at the time, I knew exactly what to do. I gathered my resources, reviewed all my photos, and went back into all my memories. I found 3 perfect images, and got ready to work.

Every weekend, I worked as hard as I could to chip away at these pieces. Every weekend was a new layer of paint onto the canvas, and the concept of an ideal studio practice coming all the closer.

Its always the fantasy: you're working away in your little corner of the world and the world comes to you, invites you to play. Its easy to hide in this corner and if no one comes, you never play. I am thankful for this invitation. It reminds me of all the interesting opportunities there are in the world, and how important it is to play.

Here are the details of the show...

The Big Show

Silas Marder Gallery
Bridgehampton, NY

Opening Reception:
May 30th, 4-9pm

May 30 - June 24, 2009

See the pieces here.

I feel very renewed after this project, very restored. In fact, I just ordered new stretchers, canvas, and a big roll of watercolor paper.

I'm ready to play.

Shepard Fairey at the ICA

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 00:47:00 +0000

As someone who considers herself an urban landscape artist, I was ecstatic for Shepard Fairey's first solo museum show, up now at Boston's Institute of Contemporary Art. (Click here for their site). Any artist who is in the area for the duration of the show (up until Aug 16) and has work even remotely related to the urban landscape, americana, politics - and also values strong composition - can benefit from visiting this show. Fairey's obvious work ethic alone is enough to inspire anyone. The sheer quantity of work is daunting. I know for a fact I will visit the show again only because one visit did not afford me what I needed to take in all the work. (Click here for a great Globe review).

The show seemed to be structured by intent, beginning with subversive, rebellious imagery, than building toward more complicated, well-financed pieces. Each room becoming more brazen in content, more ballsy in approach and more daunting in composition. The layering, the color, the design of each piece is carefully thought-out. Even with assistants, a show of this magnitude took planning, and dedication. How do you present a rebel in the structure of a museum? How do you maintain his rebellious tenor yet elevate his message to a volume anyone can hear?

In a word: guerilla marketing. The ICA was brilliant to aid Fairey in plastering Boston with posters, stickers and banners of his work. They have no signature, not signage, only the works themselves dropped from the sky onto the skin of a cold city. The picture above is of a very large, billboard-size banner of Fairey's at our Government Center, a place commuters pass by the thousands each day.

A fantastic side-effect of this marketing was Fairey being arrested for it. What better way to promote your show than to get arrested for promoting it!? After paying his bail and fine ($100), Fairey was released the next day.

However, these events are merely whispers behind the walls of an astounding show. Fairey is a master of color and screenprinting. I would argue he is a modern Kroninger or Muller-Brockmann (whom he references in a small poster in the last room, middle left). Although Fairey has MUCH more drama and anger in his work. He is genuinely upset with the state of things and uses overt puns and poetry in his graphic text to get his point across. It comes across alright...and pokes you in the eye!

I saw this exhibit with a friend who went to school in Providence when Fairey was also there attending RISD. He said he saw Fairey's "Andre the Giant has a Posse" stickers all over Providence years ago, but saw them so often that it wasn't a big deal. He had no idea that the person behind those stickers would one day be such a famous artist. His work was a part of the city, and no one seemed to mind.

I am honored that for these brief months, Fairey is part of my city.

I don't mind at all.

An Update

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 00:35:00 +0000

Hi! Its been far too long.

I wanted to write to let you know I've recently updated my website! (click here to visit). The drawings section has new drawings, and I've streamlined the design so it loads faster and you can enjoy the work more.

Since my last post, I have been drawing. Simply drawing. My thoughts have been on my family and finally adjusting to my new job so I have chosen to take a much needed break from painting. The holidays were a little stressful, but very enjoyable and restful at the same time. Since the beginning of 2009, I've reconnected with old friends, some artists among them. It has been so reassuring to know that to take a hiatus, as I have, is not only common, but wise. After speaking with several trusted colleagues, from all sorts of the backgrounds, they have expressed how important it is to "let the soil lie fallow," as it were. It is important, during the times when work and production is slow, to observe the world and meditate on what the year can bring you. Life can send great inspiration to your studio, but oddly enough, if you're toiling endlessly in your studio and dying of frustration, you may miss it.

Well, my drawing has rekindled my courage now and with the coming spring, I aim to see my studio refreshed and reborn. I truly see great things coming this year.

Jenny Saville and the Power of Influence

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 22:19:00 +0000

Two weeks ago, I attended the Jenny Saville artist lecture at Boston University, my alma mater. I got there as early as I could, but the line was already 5 people wide and ending about a hundred feet from the entrance. Saville's work has guided me through some of the roughest painting periods of my young career, so to meet her in real life, and hear her talk about her work was an opportunity I could not miss.

I have recently started a new job, and I'm sure we all know the rigor of those first few weeks at a new office. Its never clear how things will go, but you have faith that you're there for a reason. However, by the day of the lecture, I had only been at my job a week. So many feelings were going through my head: beginning a new job and phase of career; returning to my old school and campus where the familiar faces that once filled the sidewalks have been replaced with faces I did not know. To top the evening with seeing such a force-of-nature painter was quite intense & exciting, to say the least.

A good academic lecture with a bigwig at the podium always starts late, with the suspense building as the crowd gathers in intellectual anticipation. I had seen a picture recently of Saville in Vanity Fair, but save for that I would not have seen her in the auditorium. She dressed in normal clothes, with an unassuming stance with her hair in a ponytail. She is short, and yet the power of her gaze and the gravitas of her voice more than make up for any underestimatable frame.

Sometimes when you meet your heroes, you have an inflated view of how "awesome" they are going to be. You fantasize about having a deep conversation with them somehow, and perhaps becoming friends. I had no such illusions before this lecture. I prepared myself for her to be tough, academic, and as soon as the lecture was over...on a plane home. Given her success, I also was prepared for her to be a bit of a snob, a "queen of all painting" as it were, who couldn't have cared less what anyone thought of her and her work.

Luckily, Saville was not only a fascinating lecturer, but she was very matter-of-fact, very grateful to be there, and I think very overwhelmed by the show of affection and support for her and her work. A small group of students had come from as far as Miami to attend the lecture, and another woman I spoke to had driven from New York that day. The power Saville has in her work carries over into the reality of her presence. It is as important to see her in person as her work itself.

Her lecture was clear, and honest. She covered, with a great degree of humility, the wide range of influences that aided her work, and her practice. (Which consists of painting all day in a palazzo in Palermo, Sicily...not bad, huh?) The honesty of her narrative was truly the most inspirational part of the evening. Hearing the background of different pieces and how they were created was a true honor.

She showed very graphic images relating to flesh and the body, images she'd collected over the years as her work evolved. Some were, admittedly, hard to look at; the kind of images that make your body react with a cringe or slight cramp almost. But I was honored to be there, at the precipice of her portfolio, pushed to the edge of understanding and being asked to open my eyes wider then they were before I entered that lecture hall.

I admire her honesty and courage for standing at that precipice each day. Despite the luxury of her studio setting and the security of her career, she chooses to walk with the darkness and try to understand where it comes from. She listens to it and tells its story in voluptuous, fleshy oil paint. She makes the truth both disgusting and gorgeous, a didactic experience of art-viewing few achieve with such natural ability.

I feel like I can relate to the type of painter Jenny Saville is. She works extremely hard, has been painting all her life (since childhood), and cares deeply about how her work evolves. Saville is not arbitrarily referencing horrendous imagery for the shock or awe of it. We are not meant to see these rough images that inform her works. Her paintings are stunning despite their source material, yet we are better viewers for it.

I hope to see Saville again in my lifetime. If you have the chance to see her lecture...go. It is a once in a lifetime experience no painter's lifetime should be without.

Simple observations

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 23:31:00 +0000

During my recent hiatus of art production, I find myself looking around and remembering so much. As I see the world and catalog it in my mind as best I can, I remember even more from my past.

I remember candles at dinner when I was little, and I would test the power of my breath across the breadth of the table. Small wisps at first, building in volume and duration, and exhaling every few minutes, all to see the flames shutter in response. This test of my carbon dioxide endurance came and went while my parents chatted about the passing events of their day. To me these imaginative tests were far more fascinating than their dull diatribe of finance or petty comments from annoying acquaintances.

On the bus ride home this evening, an orange sun burned through cold purple clouds and warmed the still water of the polluted river. My back ached as the bus, in its headstrong journey down the highway, took no regard for the pits and faults of a neglected road, and how it sent the back of the bus into the air every few moments.

As a painter these "non-moments" that come and go all day are fuel and fusion for the process. Any work made after experiencing these moments is a result of having passed through these benign times as a willing observer, a servant to what happens when you step back and watch things happen.

I enjoy these times, where my mind is simply too empty to make work, and must fill itself with the world. Although I am frankly not happy with the work I am making now, I know the work I will make after this "empty" time, will be filled with the moments I observe, and save for inspiration later.

The future

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 12:35:00 +0000

Good morning!

Well, its been far too long.

First of all, I want to apologize for my absence, as I meant to write more after returning from New York. While writing this blog I got a wonderful show of support from fellow friends and artists and I sincerely thank them for that. It was a real blessing.

I had planned this blog to be a finite project, an account of my month in New York and upon my return, conclude it and keep it as a time capsule of a trying but wonderful experience.

However, since returning to Boston, I have felt more and more a need to express certain ideas and observations beyond my time in New York. Writing for me has become quite a release over the years; in a way, more than painting. Well, maybe not more, but certainly different.

I have decided to continue this blog as a journal of a young artist, just trying to get her work out there in the world. Not so much "Hey look at this cool project I'm doing" (there will be some of that), but more of a general expression of feelings and ideas that simply cannot be verbalized any other way. I think this process will help me in the next few months as I progress into the new territory referenced in previous posts.

I don't know how frequently I'll be able to write, but I look forward to when I do, as I hope you do. Thank you and I'll write again soon.

The last few days

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 12:53:00 +0000

Looking back at the residency, the entire month was a blur. I vaguely remember going to a big studio, sampling some fine restaurants, and several wet sidewalks pushing my feet forward in the late hours of the night.

I received all my packages of my belongings the other day, my art supplies and most importantly, my work. Opening them up in the context of my home, it seemed as though some other spirit had sent these strange creations to me, which I am now charged to guard. I updated my drawings page with these latest drawings. I encourage you to peruse and share your thoughts.

These drawings signify a big change for me. I finally found the courage to work large with ink, after having found a reasonably priced roll of watercolor paper (which I highly recommend for anyone wanting to work large but not break the bank). The Crane piece was not enough to sustain me after a while, coming to conclusion earlier than I had expected but not in the expected manner. So to amuse myself, I dove into this 42" wide roll of watercolory goodness.

I soon discovered that drawing large is quite a physical effort. The back and forth of one's body across the body of paper is like a rigorous dance. The paper, however, leads. I was at the beginning stages of learning this tiresome tango and with every step forward I would make, the paper chose a new mood or direction, coming up with a new narrative for a future audience to follow and myself to which I would reluctantly attempt to catch up.

Often I worked on the floor of my studio, leaning across the paper as far as I could, giving each stroke as much veracity as my aching body would allow. The dull, gray studio floor (which all studio floors seem to be) was hard and unkind to my knees & elbows, yet crawling across the pale two dimensional landscape was a joy.

I worked right up until the last minute, finishing the drawing pictured above the afternoon of our open studios. I had begun it the previous night with the intention of creating a dark, but romantic car drawing, a scene of something seen all the time, but rarely understood for the darkness and loneliness inherent in the image.

A little reflection...

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 21:58:00 +0000

I would like to take a minute to write about the work I made while at Cooper Union. Here is the main painting on which I focused. Frankly, I'm not sure if I'm happy with it. I grew as a painter, however, during its inception. After taking almost a week to settle and then losing this past week to packing up and the group show at the end, we really only had two full weeks of painting time. Which, if you're in the middle of nowhere, like I was in July '05 at VSC, is more than enough time. However, since you're living in truly the most active city in the world, two weeks of painting time is like telling a accountant he's got 5 hours to finish all his clients' taxes...and his own.

At first, I sort of felt like the time frame was a good challenge. I knew I was up to it, but I wasn't sure if I could find good work to make. I had trouble finding an inspiring subject matter, finding something I "desperately" wanted to paint. I've been lucky in the last few years to always have paintings about which I'd be very excited. It would be like having a new toy to play with in the morning the day after you've purchased it. You wake up, forgetting this new wonderful thing you had treated yourself to, and when you remember, you spring up from your bed anxiously awaiting to touch and smell this new wonderful thing. I've been spoiled about the consistency of this feeling, waking up virtually everyday with this "new toy" feeling.

However, due to the unsettling start I had here, I had trouble opening my eyes to the light of New York. Its warmth surrounded me and was in front of my face all the time, but I simply could not see it. The chill of fatigue was too strong. Upon settling into my new room, I wound up sleeping in far too many mornings in a row than I planned. My body must have needed it. After waking up at noon for four mornings in a row, the fatigue's cold arms left my body and I was ready to work. The two weeks I spent in the studio were full, challenging & exhausting. My eyes opened and I was ready to see.

Winding up...then down

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 23:06:00 +0000

You know, its truly amazing how quickly things change. I find myself constantly yo-yoing in emotions, from confidence to fear, to sadness to glee. It seems as though in New York, life is going like a video with the fast-forward button held down. Not only in movement but time. It seems things take longer to do or to get to, but since time is passing more quickly, you are able to only get a small percentage of things done that you would like. Its very frustrating sometimes, and you can feel others' frustration with it also. I know the everyone says its "life in the fast lane" in New York, but hell, but that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is a true sense of speed that in enveloping, as though the entire city's population has gone overboard from a raft into white-water rapids and can't quick seem to hold onto anything to get to solid ground. They simply grasp at foam and debris for momentary relief, and finally let the river take them where it wants them to go.

This analogy proves prudent after visiting the exquisite Turner exhibit at the Met. His truly phenomenal body of work has guided me over the years. His bravery as a painter during his time reminds me of the occupational hazards artists face when their work is true and their work is challenging to the masses. Turner found solid ground and did not yield to the impending current of London. Every face-off at the Royal Academy was met with an equal response of admiration and disdain. His tireless resolve & flamboyant character was what kept him alive.

He knew he was doing the right thing. He knew the answer lay in the work and as Michalangeo said (and I'm paraphrasing) "The work is there, it simply needs to be dug out."

Perhaps the canvas is never blank. It is merely covered. The work is there. It just needs to be revealed. Turner had a second sight. He saw the work beneath the blank canvas. He saw the color that was vibrating beneath the white. He saw colors most never see or will see again. In the fires of London, he saw galkyd and cadmium yellow, with white and transparent earth red. And he chewed away at the canvas to reveal the fires that stayed with him in his mind, and stay with us today.

a little bit about painting

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 01:19:00 +0000

As a young painter I find I am constantly pushed and challenged as to why I paint. I am always being asked what my work is like, why I do it, why oil on canvas, why so big or small, why, why, why. Everyday my actions are questioned by myself and others.

I don't mind it really. Often, there are days where some questioners are more interesting than others and the questions bring an good debate into my mind.

Recently, a friend asked, "why oil paint? What makes it so great?" Well, since I'm sick in bed and taking an evening off from the studio to recover, here's my answer:

Over the years, oil paint has been the one thing on which I can depend. Many artists at the end of many hard days turn to their palettes for answers. It is a visual math, where the pieces of the formula are laid out in shiny, little dollops, surrounded by a gray patina only achieved after years of mixing & experimentation. Each evening, the artist must create the algorithm that will put these dollops to good use. Usually the problem the artist is trying to solve lies within his/her own head. As frustrating as this may seem, it is oil paint that can save the artist from being lost within the problem. As the brushes jab and push the dollops around, the formula changes and evolves over the course of a demanding session. The velvety texture flows down the brush handle and into the artist's hand, reassuring them that the solution to the problem is close, and approaches quickly.

Each gesture is recorded on the canvas surface, every movement noted in time. The collection of gestures - the variables of mark and coefficients of color - create the solution. If the solution is satisfactory, that challenge has been conquered, and the artist can rest for at least one night, until another challenge arises in his/her head. However, if the solution is not satisfactory, the problem remains, and despite the towering effort put forth onto that shallow drum, the image on the canvas is simply in progress; in the midst of progressing to something better.

I suppose what makes oil paint so wonderful is how it is inherent in its nature to, in even the most subtle of ways, record the history of the above-mentioned labor. Hundreds of years from now, an oil painting is a faithful and honest record of the artist's toil over the problem with which he/she was faced for all those lonely and tiresome nights. What other media, after hundreds of years, manages to not only maintain its integrity as it was meant to by its creator, but also maintain its intent for whom it was created?

One can argue that the context of art history will change said intent, but for an oil painter, that does not matter. What matters is that each night, he/she knows that not only will the paint listen to the decisions the artist makes, but will share them with the world for centuries to come. So often the decisions one makes go into the abyss of time unnoticed. For artists, the decision to choose oil paint is the most important decision of all. For once it is chosen, an artist has chosen to become a part of art history and a shaper of it.

Now entering...the studio!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 14:43:00 +0000

Hi again!

Okay, I'm finally back to work. It has been a rough road getting to start painting again. Since I had to ship my materials here pre-arrival, I had to stop painting about a week before the residency.

In addition, the weeks of painting prior were not that great. The last few weeks and months, have been strange as far as my painting mood goes. I am a new person, but not a new painter. To evolve as a new artist, the art must change first. Work and personality however do not move in the same streams. They are rivers of energy that simply do not follow the same rules of gravity or current. Obstacles are in different places and diversions at different points.

In the differences, however, lies the solution. The balance between these worlds is where good work lies. I may not be a new painter just yet, but I am evolving into one, as I balance my worlds out, and learn about who I am as this new person, this adult I've become.

Anyway, my studio is very large, too big to fill in just a month, but that's fine. Everyone is very active here and usually there is a good dozen or so other residents floating around whenever I arrive or depart. Since the studios close at midnight, it sort of forces everyone to be bit more efficient with their energy and time. The distraction that is New York makes this very difficult, even for someone like myself. I've never considered focus an issue, but I swear being here means I need to adjust my lens every few seconds just to focus of the immediate task in front of me.

That's the real life of a painter, however. That's the reality of living and painting. I enjoy it very much but I can feel how exhausting it is, and I am not getting used to it as quickly as I would like. I find myself very tired even by noon or 1pm. I want to absorb everything and express everything, but I am only one person and cannot do everything all at once.

Whatev, as my friends and I say. I'm here to paint and have fun. I love New York very much and I believe in it and everything it has to offer me. My painting has grown very much already, and I see new ideas and possibilities on my horizon, which is a feeling I have not had in a good while.

Its not New York, it's me.

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 03:17:00 +0000

Travel is an unfortunate but integral part of an artist's life. I say unfortunate only because I am not good at it. Many people I meet love traveling. They can sleep anywhere, take any problems that come their way in stride, and when they return home they share stories no one else has.

I simply haven't traveled enough. I hope the future travel engagements I make, challenge me but fortify me. I feel like I've reached a point in my life where I am too tired to "learn from mistakes" but inevitably, I must. For if I want to live, and have fuel for my work, the reality of mistakes must be acknowledged.

The best paintings I've made are the ones I redid.

As I reside in New York, I have to remember that mistakes happen. New York may be the city that never sleeps but I think a lot of people are sleeping all the time here. It seems people are in a strange daze, so exhausted from pushing themselves all the time, they are permanently in a fog. The fog of speed is dulling, an erosion of the surface like rocks under the waves.

However, the more rest I get, and the more adjusted I become, the more comfortable I am in the fast lane.

Most importantly, my painting has finally gotten to a place where I am proud to open my studio and share my progress. For the first few days, I could barely stand up, let alone get work done in the studio. The discombobulation I faced when I arrived threw me off my feet and only now has my balance been restored.

The sun is out in New York and the warm sidewalk heats my step. Many days and nights I walk alone, but being alone in a city of lonely people is like being an eroding rock under the waves. I will be smooth eventually, and look just like the natives before long.

Welcome to New York

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 02:49:00 +0000

Well, well, well.

I got in exhausted from my ride from Boston around 3pm. I stood in the longest cabstand line in New York after exited Penn Station in searing June heat. The cabbie overshot the mark when bringing me to my residence hall at Cooper Union, so he kicks me out of the cab and I am forced to walk about a block with luggage whose wheels break after a broken sidewalk chews them alive. I finally arrive at the residence hall only to be told the AC in my apartment broke so I've gotta stay in a temporary apartment for a few nights until its fixed. No internet yet, had to wait for someone to set that up.

I collect the boxes of personal items I had shipped to myself beforehand and get to work setting up some key things; bedding, pots & pans, etc. So even though I'm sweaty and starving, I dash to Trader Joes and buy a hodgepodge of groceries. Apparently the Trader Joes and Whole Foods in NYC deal with their customers in a similar fashion to traffic cops dealing with cars. Each customer gets in a lane when ready to pay, waits for a cue to line up and pay for their items, and then is wisked away to the outside world. I'm surprised my food made it out ok.

But I digress.

At 6pm we had a dinner with the other residents. The food was delicious, but one of the last free meals I imagine I'll be getting for a while. The artists seemed terrific, & friendlier than I would've predicted. I suppose I expected a group like this to be filled with artists who wanted to just get to work- not make friends or socialize, but get busy. Also I expected a group to really be after their career status, not so much their popularity amongst fellow painters. But, luckily, I'm wrong.

However, over the last few days, the temporary apartment situation put me in a state of flux I did not appreciate nor cope with very well. Its nobody's fault, per se, but I couldn't help but feel like I could not settle. Also, I am ashamed to say, not having internet was very upsetting. I can't help it. I just needed my internet by my side! Since there is no cable TV here, I suppose I counted on the internet being a great vehicle of relaxation and entertainment. These last three days have been very tough.

However, I am out of the woods, as they say. I feel ten times better about myself and my situation. I am ready to work, and paint. As denoted by this post, I have my internet back, and I feel more like a human being.

Thank you for reading and I hope to fill more posts with observations and experiences in New York, because now, after my broken luggage has been emptied & eyes open wider after resting, I am ready to enjoy New York.

Wish me luck!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:26:00 +0000

Hey again! Thanks for returning. Well, I'm departing tomorrow for New York. I just wanted to write a quick note to say thanks for reading these past couple of days, and as soon as I get settled, I'll update you with some new observations, post-arrival. I feel like I've been gearing up for this kind of experience for quite a while. I've worked hard and I feel in a sense the hard work that is coming is almost some sort of reward for all the hard work I've done in the past. This next phase promises to be very engaging and exciting and I know I'll get as much out of it that I possible can.

Thanks for reading I'll see you soon. Next stop: Cooper Union

5 Days and counting...

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 22:13:00 +0000

Yikes! Ok, as of this time next week, I'll be in New York! I already sent my materials and some personal items down, so as the days draw near I have only to pack and wait. Putting together my paints, brushes, panels and sketchpads all in one box and off into the world was far more emotional than I imagined. So much sentiment has been poured into those little sticks with hair on them, those tubes of colored mud, and the salty wooden Jullian easel box they live in, that to hand it over to the care of anyone else even for the briefest of transport time is quite daunting. I send it off to meet me again soon in a new place and studio where it must serve me immediately and be at the ready for whatever challenges come.

As I reflect on the past few months of my life, challenging comes to mind as a fitting description. I have had highs and lows like no other time in my life, and my creative mind has been forced to circumvent psychological obstacles I never saw before.

Confidence affords a certain blindness to such obstacles. Changes in your confidence therefore makes you see obstacles differently. Its as if in one portion of your life you have blue-tinted glasses which allow you to see one dimension of the world. At some point, you switch to green glasses, and you view a completely different dimension which had been there all along, but you simply couldn't see it before.

When you are confident, of course you "see" challenges, but they aren't perceived the same way. Challenges come: you absorb them, deal with them them and move on. I feel confident in myself and my work, but as time passes I find certain challenges rather daunting which I simply didn't see as challenges before.

I believe this change in vision happens for a reason. I am meant to see something. I am meant to bring it to my work and let it improve my work. The challenges I see now are new, but that's alright. I wouldn't be a painter if I did not see them. I would not be a painter if my glasses did not change color. I suppose through life our glasses change color often. These many colors make painters whole.

Stuff to see!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 16:30:00 +0000

Well good morning!

Thanks for coming back. Right now I'm trying to pack and doing research about what I should see while I'm in New York. Gotta see Murakami at the Brooklyn Museum of course, and Hilary Harkness at Mary Boone. She's a wonderful woman whom I've had the honor of meeting twice when I was at BU. I've never seen her work in person, and since she spends a great length on time on her work, it is a rare opportunity to see a full show of hers.

If you have any other recommendations for shows, leave them in the comments section. I'm really open to seeing anything, even if I wind up hating it.

I also want to see galleries in NYC that may be hidden gems that don't advertise, or perhaps don't even have windows. I heard about a gallery (click here for NYTimes story) in Chelsea that has a huge space, unlocked doors, no security, no nothing; just a big open room with wild art in it that people are invited to frequent. Its almost an honor system where the owners trust no one will harm the work. I don't know if I could do that, but I like that people are putting themselves out there without the need for representation, per se. Its similar to the way musicians now rebel against record companies.

I enjoy the ranges of galleries that are out there. I've been lucky enough to talk with many, many artists about their experiences with various galleries. Its as if through all the talking with artists I've done and stories I've heard, I've lived a lifetime's worth of good & bad business decisions, affiliations, experiences. I feel more and more I know what to look for or watch out for. I'm so lucky to know the artists and professionals I consider friends. They have taught me so much.

Prepping for a Residency

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 20:00:00 +0000

Ok, here's a few random tips on preparing for a residency.

1) The first BIG tip is to ship as much to yourself as possible. I know it may seem scary to ship your oil colors or supplies (maybe keep your favorite brushes in your luggage, just in case). I've had the best experience shipping things with FedEx. As you pack your items, wrap them in your painting clothes! Not only will you receive your painting clothes with your supplies, but your supplies with be well-protected. If they get damaged however, your clothes won't be ruined because they already look like crap!

2) Review your neighborhood beforehand as much as possible. Whether you'll be in the boondocks or the big city, do as much research about the resources you'll have access to during your stay. Everything from coffee shops to video stores. All the little necessities and comforts you may need to have fun and relax are most likely available to you at the residency and you won't want to run around looking for them instead of painting or getting to know your fellow residents.

3) Bring as little extra clothing with you as possible. No matter the time of year, you're not at a residency to show off your fashion sense. Bring about 1 weeks worth of clothes for every month of your stay, do laundry once a week and wear it all over again. Bring a few "comfort" pieces of clothes - a favorite sweatshirt, sneakers, dress, etc. - for those nights when you get home from the studio late and couldn't get paid enough to shower.

4) Slippers (perhaps this tip is more for girls that guys) but don't forget your slippers for your bedroom and perhaps some dingy old slippers for the studio. If your residency is in the summer, you won't want to cover your best Tevas with paint or wear heavy sneakers, and in winter you won't want to wear soggy boots all day either - so crappy studio shoes or slippers aren't a bad idea.

5) Duplicate toiletries for the studio -- toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, & soap. You never know what you'll be doing after you work or how long you'll be there, or how much you'll eat at the studio.

6) Try to meditate in the days or weeks before you leave for your residency as much as possible. Project yourself there for a few minutes a day and realize what is ahead. Weeks or months of true escape, interspection and creative solitude awaits. You must lock your apartment door and go to a new place. No one knows how to find you, and maybe your cell phone doesn't even work where you're headed. You never finish a residency as the same person who started it. Clear your mind and remind yourself of the artist you are before you begin and you finish as the artist you want to be.

Next post...final thoughts as I do some meditating myself.

See you soon.

Getting ready

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 20:33:00 +0000

Hey again!

So I'm getting ready for the residency and am very, very excited. I've already corresponded with a fellow resident who's work I stumbled on on-line. His name is Marcos Chin, a very accomplished artist & illustrator. Seems real nice and I look forward to learning more about him and the fellow painters I'll be working and living with for a month.

The biggest x-factor with any of these residencies is the other residents. You could have the best visiting artists in the land coming to your studio, the best facilities money can buy, and the greatest location you can find. Without great fellow residents however, the experience will be bittersweet. At least, that's my opinion.

Many experiences such as these, however, are "what you make of it" as the saying goes. Undergrad & graduate schools, residencies, jobs, etc. Yet - when the chemistry is just right and the energy is flowing - something like a residency, for instance, will be truly unforgettable.

Artists sometimes like to pretend they do not need inspiration from others in order to do good work. They could be anywhere and they don't need good classmates or fellow residents or even good neighbors in order to create. I am admit here and now I need good people around me to work. I cannot enter a studio under the pretext of wanting to avoid anyone, or simply with the feeling of disliking any one. I am more of a social painter, who likes the flow of life to move around me as I work.

Anyway, my experience three years ago (Has it been that long?) at the Vermont Studio Center was unforgettable, mostly because of the people I met and experiences I had, not the work I made.

In the post, I hope to share some practical advice about how to prepare for a residency. It's not easy actually. I'm no expert, but I have a little experience that I'm happy to share.

Ok, talk to you soon. Happy painting.

Introduction

noreply@blogger.com (Christina-Painter) — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 16:00:00 +0000

Hi. My name is Christina and I am a painter from Boston. Recently, I've been awarded a residency at Cooper Union for the summer of 2008. I want to set up this blog (my first blog) as a bit of a diary of my experience there. The residency is from June 13th to July 11th and will be my first extended stay in Manhattan. I have been thinking (more than thinking) about moving to New York, but haven't quite had the opportunity. Now, with portfolio in hand and heart on sleeve, I hope to hop off the Greyhound June 13th with a new found freedom that comes only when the gods afford you the vision to appreciate it and the time to enjoy it.

My background in painting is based on a more academic figurative foundation. While I do have a profound love & appreciation for abstract work, I am, at heart, a literalist. I prefer the truth. I prefer an approach that documents what really exists in front of me, what I've witnessed. My work, over the years, has grown more and more documentarian. My professors often likened my demeanor to that of a journalist, and said it came through in my paintings; as though when I looked for scenes worthy of painting, I was more on the hunt for an undiscovered story than any "artful" image. I took this as a compliment. Edward Hopper, a hero of mine, would have as well. Many of my contemporaries feel the need to say something new with their body of work. That's fine. Personally, what I want to say with my work is actually already being said in the unobserved corners of the world. I hope my paintings make people listen.

New York is a bustling island of many corners, but I believe if I can focus, I will hear the stories it has to share. Wish me luck.

To get more of a background on who I am and the kind of work I do, please visit my site.

Thanks for reading and keep checking back for more updates.