Artists and Routine

December 17 (morning routine), by Flickr user Romanlily.
December 17 (morning routine), by Flickr user Romanlily. Click image to visit Romanlily's photostream.

A goal for 2009 is to not fill up my calendar with gallery shows. I have been blessed in the past two years, being presented with a variety of opportunities to show my work in and around Oklahoma. (Thanks, folks!) The downside of that is I have been painting under deadline for all of that time. I work well with deadlines, and am pretty good at managing my time. Now I am looking forward to opening up my work to free-form exploration. This is a journey best served with a side of structure. I've been reading the blog Daily Routines for ideas. An excerpt from today's post about Chris Ofili:

He arrives in his studio at 9 or 10 in the morning, he explained. He sets aside a corner for watercolors and drawings "away from center stage," meaning where he paints his big, collaged oil paintings. "I consider that corner of the studio to be my comfort zone," he said. First, he tears a large sheet of paper, always the same size, into eight pieces, all about 6 by 9 inches. Then he loosens up with some pencil marks, "nothing statements, which have no function."

"They're not a guide," he went on, they're just a way to say something and nothing with a physical mark that is nothing except a start."

Watercolor goes on top. He estimated that each head takes 5 to 15 minutes. Occasionally he'll paint while on the phone. He may finish one watercolor or 10 in the course of a day.

This comes from a longer article about artists' routines that ran in the New York Times in 2005. Here is the full article.

A point about artists I often impress on people is that we are not magicians.

The myth is that artists are somehow different. That they leap from one peak of inspiration to another. That they reject limits - that this is precisely what makes them artists. But of course that's not true. Most artists work as the rest of us do, incrementally, day by day, according to their own habits. That most art does not rise above the level of routine has nothing necessarily to do with the value of having a ritual.

This is as close to a New Year's Resolution as I will get.

romy owens, Photographer: Interview

Update, 2012-05-12: Images below have been removed due to link rot. Visit romy owens' website to see her latest work. romy owens is a photographer and arts enthusiast living in Oklahoma City. She takes many photographs, curates the third floor gallery at the Gaylord-Pickens Museum, visits other people's art openings, and eschews capital letters.

SA: Where were you born, where have you lived, where did you go to school, and how did you come to be in Oklahoma?

ro: i was born in okc at baptist hospital on easter sunday in 1970 and it snowed that day.  i was raised in enid.  here are the schools i attended:  glenwood elementary, monroe elementary, emerson junior high, enid high, tulsa university, phillips university, webster university, university of oklahoma, and oklahoma city university.  as an adult, i have lived in tulsa, st. louis, leiden (the netherlands), enid, boston, eaton center (nh), nyc, and okc.  i came to be in oklahoma as a layover while couch surfing in 1996.  and it stuck.

SA: What do you think Oklahoma artists have to offer that's unique?

ro: an aesthetic and ethic that hasn't been jaded by the competition, popular opinion, and criticism, like one might find in a larger art market.

SA: Did you train in photography? What about other media?

ro: well, i got my first camera at age six, and i worked in a darkroom for the first time at age ten.  i bought my first nikon at age seventeen.  and i've always been an avid photographer.  however, i studied photography as art starting in 2002, specifically traditional black and white darkroom photography.  i have studied painting, drawing, screen printing, and installation art.  and graphic design, of course.  my strengths lie in photography.

SA:  Is it more challenging to find gallery work as a photographer than as an artist working in other media, like painting or sculpture?

ro: yes.  oh my god.  totally.  there are many people with recognizable influence in the creative culture, as well as the art buying world, who maintain that photography is not an art form.  and they can suck it, because it is.  i think it is not uncommon that when a photograph is in competition with other media, the other media is almost universally regarded as a higher art, and photography rarely wins best in show in multi-media exhibitions.  whatever.  photographers just keep on truckin'.

SA:  I enjoy the strong compositions I see in your work, lots of bold colors and fields of texture. How did this visual style develop?

ro: i fully admit that i am strongly influenced by the work of postmodern photographers that came before me.  i'm extremely drawn towards abstract expressionism, and line, color and texture are the things that pull me into a shot.  i developed this style on my search for graffiti while traveling, and then i would find that the section of wall right next to the graffiti was often times as, if not more, aesthetically pleasing.

SA: What interests you about urban sights, like signage, walls, buildings, etc?

ro: the short answer is the history.  but equally as important to me is the challenge of finding that place that someone would pass every single day and never really appreciate.  these buildings and signs are omnipresent, but largely ignored.  when i'm out exploring, i impose an entire imagined back story on cracks in the sidewalk or the bricks that make up a building.  that story largely exists in my mind.  sounds insane, maybe, but personification has been a longtime quirk i've had.  just ask my stuffed animals from childhood.  i promise you, they'll agree.

SA: You are currently using a technique in which you cut prints into strips and sew them back together in different configurations. When and why did you start doing this?

ro: i started piecing sections of photographs together in 2005 for an incredibly practical reason.  i wanted to work larger than my 8"x 10" printer would permit, so by printing the photos out in sections and piecing them together like wallpaper, i was able to create much larger images.  the first one i did was four by six feet.  it was pretty awesome.  it was ruined by a leaking ceiling in the main studio room at ocu.  that sucked.  anyway, i started sewing the seams of the photos together in 2007 because i didn't like that the edges or corners could, and depending on handling, eventually would, curl up.  it was out of necessity of permanence that i sew everything into place.  i would never dare to take exclusive credit for the idea.  my superdeluxe friend jason hackenwerth introduced me to the art of doug and mike starn in 2004.  anyone familiar with their work would see an obvious connection with piecing bits of a photo together to create a larger image.  and in 2005, while i was studying david hockney's photography, i read that hockney once said that he believes photography is a lesser art form, yet he created enormous fantastic photo collages of landscapes and urban-scapes that contradict his own statement, almost as if to demonstrate the only way he could see photography being an art form.  arrogant, yes.  however, these post-modern techniques totally influenced me.  i created my own variation.  actually, i will take full credit for the o.c.d. sewing.

SA: Can you describe how you punch those tiny holes and sew such meticulous stitches?

ro: let me know if this describes it to your satisfaction. i use a metal ruler and the pointy end of a compass (the circle making tool), and i score the holes that way. then i puncture the score marks, with a needle an two thimbles. then i go back and sew.

SA: Are you naturally precise or do you use tools to assist in that process?

ro: tools. although the exactitude has definitely made me more precise in gauging measurements and levelness.

SA: I feel that when women artists use things like sewing in their work, it's easy to pigeonhole that work as a comment on femininity. Do you have any thoughts on that?

ro: well, in fact, i do have thoughts on that.  i really thought sewing would stamp my art as definitively feminine, which doesn't bother me at all, being a female and all.  i think people tend to call work feminine with the intent of it being a back-handed compliment.  however, i don't think calling art feminine is insulting.  and in fact, when people use that description in a way that implies anything negative, i tend to think less of the person making the comment.  and i have to say, i am surprised by the number of people i meet who tell me that based on my artwork, s/he thought me a man.  i always think that is odd.  i've heard my imagery is masculine from more than a few people, and when someone says it, they seem to be complimenting me, like my imagery is better because it's masculine.  whatever.  that's redonkulous.  oh, and i've heard that my stitches are so detailed that it seems like a man did them.  and frankly, that's just insulting.  a man didn't do it.  basically, i am female and therefore, by default, i make feminine art, and that can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean.  i think my art is a pretty accurate reflection of my uber-feminine personality.  (sarcasm, intended.)

SA: That's funny, because in thinking about the question of "feminine" art I also thought that your work was, not masculine, but not feminine either. (Androgynous art?) What I'm getting at is that even though you use the sewing technique, which someone could classify as "feminine," I find your work completely un-girly. On that note, do you participate in the Girlie Show?

ro: i did in 2006 and 2007.  i wanted it to be one thing, it turns out that it's another.

SA: Are you a completely digital photographer?  Do you do all your work at home, or do you use a traditional photo lab?

ro: yes, since 2005, completely a digital photographer.  so so so much more affordable.  holy crap, when i think of all the film i would have needed to buy, i throw up a little in my mouth.  i do all my work at home, and i don't use a traditional photo lab for anything.

SA: How do you like the job of curating the gallery at the Gaylord-Pickens Center?

ro: first, it's a museum, just to be clear and totally la-di-da and fancy about it.  second, it's so awesome!  i'm constantly challenged and learning.  and i work in the art industry.  and the hours are completely accommodating.  and the people who i work with at the museum are so superdeluxe.  it's an ideal dream day job for an independent artist.  i'm super lucky.  i'll keep doing it as long as they let me.

SA: What are your thoughts on working with a gallery contract as you do with Steven Kovash?

ro: well, i have to say for the record that stephen kovash is pretty rad.  he's taken a huge risk in opening a gallery and representing artists and i'm lucky that he still wants to represent me, as diva as i try to be.  being under contract hasn't impacted me personally, as the group shows i tend to participate in are under the umbrella of non-profit gallery exhibitions which are allowed in my contract.  and i have the freedom to show outside of the metro area.  so i haven't seen a downside to being under contract.

SA: How did you develop the Photo Booth project?

ro: it started as a part of the entertainment provided for ovac's 12 x 12 this past september.  but i was so thrilled with the results that it is now an ongoing project that i hope to develop into a massive installation one day.  i love the photo booth project.  i can't wait for the next time i get to do it, which hopefully will be in january.  i've heard it referred to as party pics more than once, which i think is just another way to denigrate photography as a lesser art form.  and even with that, i'm categorizing party pics as a lesser art form, which is rather hypocritical of me.  party pics could be art, but not every photographer capturing party pics is an artist.  how's that?  anyway, i really don't see the photo booth as party pics, and i'm pretty insulted when i hear that.  it's interactive art and it's a relatively accurate form of telling a very short story.  i'm not directing people in any way, and oftentimes i'm not even paying attention to what the people are doing when i snap the shutter.  in fact, what i am doing is stealing souls, and the image that results definitely informs the viewer about the person being photographed.

SA: Who are you looking at? Or listening to, or reading?

ro: ooooh, i'm looking at my nephew a lot right now.  he's so freaking awesome.  the coolest three year old i know.  and i don't know why but i find myself looking at ryan reynolds a lot.  well, i do know why.  i don't think that's why you meant by the question, but it's true.  my nephew and ryan reynolds, for totally different reasons.  and i'm also looking at a lot of art by sally mann and walker evans.  and i'm listening to a lot of e.l.o. right now.  in fact, that's what i'm gonna put on myspace right now.  and i wish i were reading a super book right now.  sadly, the last book i read was the final harry potter in 2007.  and the most recent thing i've read was the most november issue of oklahoma today magazine, cover to cover, while on the train from okc to ftw.

SA: What are your career goals as an artist?

ro: my career goal is to be included in a whitney biennial before i die.  everything else ultimately leads to that goal.

SA: Have you entered the Whitney Biennial before?

ro: no, but i've only been an artist for three years. i will. for the record, i was sorely disappointed in this year's biennial, but i still love it and it's still my eyes on the prize goal.

SA: What is an artist stereotype that fits you? And one that doesn't fit you?

ro: i guess some people might call me eccentric which i think is true of lots of artists.  the creative class tends to be eccentric.  that's what gives us our creamy goodness.  one that doesn't fit me is that i am not a slacker.  i'm very organized and try to avoid any hint of flakey artist, which i find many artists embrace because it allows them to be slackers.  that bothers me.  slacker artists tend to make the entire profession seem slacker-y.

SA: Where and when can we see your work (including on the web)?

ro: 1) istvan gallery (1218 n. western, okc) always has a piece or three of my art on display.  2) my flickr is a wading pool of butterscotch pudding to go through, since there are over 9000 photos.   most of what is on my flickr is my longest running on-going series, "kids i know," which will one day be a massive installation.  but there are other loosely organized sets on my flickr too.  3) i have a lot of photos in my myspace photos.  4) one of my 2009 goals is to set up my own awesome website.  and then i can interview cool artists like you, sarah, and spread the love.  5) or if someone really wanted to see my art, they could buy a piece of it and hang it in their home and look at it all the time.

Red Shows Saturday 11.15.2008 in OKC

This'n: Red Dot Show, an annual fundraiser for the Individual Artists of Oklahoma Gallery (IAO). 811 N Broadway Ave, Oklahoma City. Saturday November 15th, 7-11 pm. Click here for ticket information. At the Red Dot Show, in addition to auctioning artists' works, IAO does something different. A group of artists (myself included) [scratch that, I wasn't included] has agreed to auction "blank canvases" -- that is, they are selling commissions. When a buyer purchases a blank canvas from me, the artist agrees to paint them a commissioned work.

And That'n: The Red Show: What Makes You See Red? An annual fundraiser for the Red Line Foundation, a local organization promoting education and awareness about HIV/AIDS. AKA Gallery, 3001 Paseo, Oklahoma City. Saturday November 15th, 8 pm to midnight. Tickets available at Moda Salon, The Velvet Monkey Salons, the 42nd Street Candy Company, or at the gallery door.

My friend and colleage Ashley Griffith is a cofounder of Red Line, and is lending us her Paseo gallery space for this exhibit of red art. (The show guidelines stipulate that works must be at least fifty percent red.) Below are the three paintings I made for this show. I have included in-progress shots to give an idea of how I build layers in a painting. (Secretly I hope that in five years I look back at these and think, "Gracious Aunt Betsy, what was I thinking? I am SO much better at layering now.")

Charlie (layer 1), acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

Dave: Red (layer 1), acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

Trent: Halvsies (layer 1), acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

I began with photos of my subjects, which I doctored in PhotoShop to shift the color balance toward the red end of the spectrum. I drew very basic pencil outlines on my blank canvases. The underpaintings are thin layers of red (cadmium and napthol), yellow (cadmium and naples), and sienna.

Palette before a session. This is one of my palettes at the beginning of a painting session. I use styrofoam takeout trays. When they get full of paint, I let them dry and then apply a thin coat of gesso. Top row: burnt sienna, cadmium red light, cadmium red dark, napthol pink (mixture). Second row: burnt sienna (liquid acrylic), Golden glaze in rust, Golden glaze in yellow ochre, Liquitex portrait pink (mixture). Third row: burnt umber (liquid acrylic), van dyke brown, unbleached titanium (mixture), cadmium yellow. Bottom row: payne's gray (liquid acrylic), neutral gray, titanium white. Not pictured: alizarin crimson.

Palette after a session. This is a different palette, after a painting session.

Recently I am taking a more painterly approach to my work. Looking back at the last couple of years I have felt like a drafstman who uses paint. I've missed the tactile and aesthetic pleasures of pushing paint around, building layers of color, and laying down single, decisive brush strokes.

Charlie: Stripes (layer 2), acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

Trent: Halvsies (layer 2), acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

The Dave painting was not fit to be photographed at this point. In the final piece, you will see that I changed direction somewhat. As a professor of mine says, every painting goes through an ugly stage.

Charlie: Stripes, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee Charlie: Stripes, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

Dave: Red, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee Dave: Red, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

Trent: Halvsies, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee Trent: Halvsies, acrylic on canvas, 2008 by Sarah Atlee

A warm thank-you to my sitters, including Mr. Trent Lawson.

How and Why to Title Your Work

Julia Kirt, the director of the Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition, published a post today about labelling your work when you deliver it to a gallery. Snip:

I recently organized an exhibition with 18 artists in it. Several pieces had no name on the back, much less a title or contact information. Of those pieces, a few were delivered when I was not in the office, so could easily have not known which was which.

I had a similar experience in 2003 when I was an intern at the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe. We were mounting a fundraising show called Inside [8*3], an open call for works less than 8 inches on a side. We had hundreds. Can you guess how many of those pieces were called Untitled? Answer: waaay too many. We even had a few mixups in which buyers got incorrect pieces delivered to them because the works of art were indistinguishable on paper. This brings me to the crux of today's post.

Title Your Work

Please, do this. "Untitled" is a cop-out, unless you have created a work that is intentionally formal (that is, concerned mainly with forms), and/or you wish for the piece to reflect as little context as possible. For my part, I'm incapable of making paintings that don't reference visual culture in a thousand little ways, so I might as well create titles that provide additional content.

(I began actively titling my work under the instruction of Martin Facey at the University of New Mexico. It was one of the lessons that stuck.)

Another reason not to rest on "Untitled" is that it makes your work harder to distinguish and identify. As Julia mentioned above, it can be headache-inducing for gallery workers as well (and you want those people on your good side). Imagine you've just delivered 20 paintings to a gallery for a solo show. They have twenty different prices, but they're all called "Untitled: oil on canvas." It would be difficult enough for the gallery staff to properly identify your work, not to mention audiences at large.

Note: A good solution to this is to provide your gallery with a detailed inventory including thumbnails. I'll be talking about this in more detail at an upcoming OVAC workshop; see note below. How To Title Your Work

Language is a frequent trigger of my creative process. In my character-based work, I may start with a name and put a face to it, or vice versa. I keep a file containing my favorite idioms, and another for the almost-correct-but-mistranslated-sounding advertisements that appear in my email spam. Maybe I'll latch onto a song lyric or movie line. Sometimes I'll be working on a painting, and an appropriate phrase will float to the surface of my consciousness. All these can become titles.

If coming up with titles is difficult for you, here are some suggestions for semi-random word generators.

Reader's Digest or any newspaper or magazine. Pick a column. Read the last word of each line in that column. Choose a sequence of 3-5 words that sound interesting. ex. "Teaches how they sip." "Working love had most empathic."

Babelfish. The AltaVista Babelfish translator is a great source of slightly innacurate language. Begin with a common phrase, such as "All roads lead to Rome." Send it through the translator multiple times through multiple languages. I had it translated to Russian, back to English, to Japanese, to English again, to French, then Greek, back to English. "Action of all streets to Rome" is what came out.

Channel surfing. Flip through channels on the boob tube. Write down the first word that you hear each time you turn to a new channel. Repeat as needed.

Diceware and the Beale List. Roll 5d6 (or one six-sided die five times) and write down the six numbers that come up. Repeat two more times, or more if you like. You will have three five-digit numbers. Each of these numbers corresponds to a word on the Beale list. (This is an excellent method for generating memorable but hard-to-break passwords.) ex. "Noun walls fauna." "Feels bozo spire."

Place names. This is how I created the characters of Normal, OK. Use an atlas or actual road signs. ex. Pernell Foster, Guthrie Perkins Cushing, Stillwater Hennessey.

Your birthdate and a book. Say your birthday is April 4 1967. (Mine isn't.) Grab any book off any shelf. Turn to page 4, look at the fourth line, and note the first, ninth, sixth and seventh words. ex. "Writing as is uncertain." "Worthy now as I." Modify this as you see fit, by matching the digits of your birthdate to chapters, pages, lines, or words.

Speaking of books. Look at your bookshelf. Read one word from each consecutive book title, three to five in a row. ex. "Dawn to Modern Ambassador." "Name Visual Working Basics." "Geek Garlic Housekeeping." "Sylvia Companion of Insects."

Phone book acronyms. Open the phone book and choose the first name you see (first or last). Write words that begin with each letter of that name. ex. "Paul" becomes "Please Accept Understanding Limes."

Wikiquote. Use a quote as is, or for extra fun, switch the words around.

The Internet Anagram Server. Begin with a name or phrase, then send it through the anagram generator. For a more concise result, I set the maximum number of words to no more than three, and the minimum number of letters to three or four. Here is such a result for "All roads lead to Rome." That's right, 654 anagrams. That's why I leave this up to a computer. Amoral aloe toddlers, anyone?

New proverbs.

Go ye and title.

UPDATE. You can find some more colorful phrases at this page detailing the animal naming scheme for various versions of Ubuntu (a popular distribution of the Linux operating system).

Related: I'm going to be giving a talk about organizing one's art inventory on November 22. It's part of OVAC's workshop series called A.S.K. (Artist's Survival Kit). The Business of Art 101 will be at the Edmond Public Library. Visit OVAC's site to register. I recently attended an OVAC workshop on building your portfolio, and it was a great experience. I came away feeling energized, motivated, and well-informed. Most of these workshops are only $15 for non-OVAC members! You can't not go.

Xerox Transfer Workshop at Untitled Artspace, OKC

Gift, oil and alkyd on canvas, 2004 by Joe Ramiro Garcia
Gift, oil and alkyd on canvas, 2004 by Joe Ramiro Garcia. Click here to visit the artist's website.

I mentioned in an earlier two-part post that there are many ways to transfer an image from one surface to another. Untitled Artspace in Oklahoma City is offering a workshop on one of these methods, taught by visiting artist Joe Ramiro Garcia.

Xerox Lithography Workshop October 18 - 19, 2008

Joe Ramiro Garcia will teach a two-day Xerox Lithography Workshop on Saturday and Sunday, October 18 and 19. The workshop will have sessions from 10 am - 6 pm each day. Xerox lithography involves using a Xerox copy of an image and transferring it with gum arabic. Garcia is a Santa Fe-based artist and exhibited his art at Untitled [ArtSpace] in May and June 2007. ... Supplies will be included.

If you're in the area and interested in this method of image transfer, a workshop at Untitled is a fabulous way to leapfrog into some new work.