Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Residency 2 (June 2010) Summary

In many respects, my perspective coming into my Group 2 Residency was far more expanded since my introductory experience back in January. Still, I aspired to maintain a level of objectivity about my work and my exposure to new concepts and theories – a strategy that worked remarkably well for me as a Group 1 student.

Unlike the previous residency, wherein my crit group was comprised of a melange of disciplines, the space in which I hung my work consisted solely of painters. I knew right away that this would make for some excellent discourse, not to mention very focused group crits by faculty in which the very idea of painting would need to be addressed as a whole. The latter had become a point of great interest to me by way of my research writing from the previous semester – that is - the pervasive (and hyperbolic) “death of painting” postulate that seemed to pervade postmodernist discourse from the late '60s through the mid/late '90s. Through many discussions with peers and faculty this residency, I have since theorized a more accurate and contemporary depiction of this rhetoric: Painting has lived on, and has recently emerged out from under the radar due to the fading relevance of postmodernist conjecture.

In my critique space, I'd hung the underpaintings of the heavily allegorized concepts, left unfinished and abandoned since I was dissatisfied with that tack, but wanting to show my progesssion. There were also various sketches that supported these works, as well as the hyper-allegorized triptych sketches. The three completed oil paintings at which I'd finally arrived were: Atelier 2010, a nude self-portrait of sorts depicting a sheep being sheared by me; Flyover, depicting a female figure in a flowing dress jumping/hovering/falling over an airport tarmac; and Pteronychus, a small (12” x 12”) painting of two Herring Gulls perched on a rail, done in a Viridian monochrome.

My first formal group critique was one I'd anticipated with excitement, and one I'd like to explicate particularly. It was a “tag-team” critique with Barry Schwabsky and the program Director, Judith Barry. Schwabsky was sitting visiting faculty as well as a guest lecturer for this residency and semester. I was already very familiar with the seminal contemporary painting tome that he'd helped compile as well as authoring its introduction: Vitamin P. I'd not had a crit with Judith yet, and the experience, depth and professional sophistication for which she is known was certainly something I welcomed.

Unexpectedly, Schwabsky brought the traditional prejudices about representational painting to the fore once he looked at my work, saying: “I'm not sure that this kind of painting needs to be painted... (pause)... anymore.” I was only mildly surprised; I am quite used to statements of this ilk, since they are, as I'd stated, “traditional” in the scope of the postmodern view of representational realism. The fact that I can predict this kind of reaction based on the pedigree of the individual speaks not so much to my work, but to the particular school of thought from which that individual comes. Judith's reaction was somewhat deferential to Schwabsky's, and at the same time, confusingly, she commended me for mastering my technique. As to any defense on my part regarding this, I demurred, and will do so here.

Tony Apesos chided me a bit when I spoke of this with him during an individual crit (which I will address later), saying that I should have made Schwabsky clarify his statement. Perhaps, but I'm beginning to feel that critique – and that of my work, particularly – is much like wine. It truly must be allowed to breathe, for oftentimes – even with excellent vintners and vintages – the wine can tend to “shut down” unless it is decanted for a bit. Amusingly, the oenological term for this is that the wine is “dumb.” That said, I don't mean to be flippant – but I waited out the initial rhetorical ripostes of this crit. In time, Schwabsky redacted to a degree, charging that my allover treatment of surface in such a neoclassical (read: no brushwork) manner disallowed him to “enter” the painting. This made sense, and gibed with some later critiques, so I noted it well.

It's not that surprising that the painting Atelier 2010 garnered the most attention during (and not during, by the reaction of passersby) critiques, given that the content is so oddly challenging. Stuart Steck, in our “former advisor” meeting, wondered aloud at how I even arrived at such an image, but praised the work as uncannily fresh. My new advisor for this semester, Hannah Barrett, was not quite as enamored, but still shook her head at the piece, baffled by my choice of subject matter, and deemed it somewhat successful based upon its confusing nature alone. She rather preferred Pteronychus for its noir-ish take of such a quotidian image. Tony Apesos, who enjoys things allegorical (he felt what I was doing conceptually was compelling and, admittedly, to his taste), decided to critique me on a more formal, technical level and made an emphatic point about manipulating my static surface: he advised me to try impasting paint to create tension and interest. Both Stuart and Hannah had mentioned this, as well. It became very clear (since Schwabsky's crit), that this was an important part of the “technical narrative” that needs to be addressed in my work. I'd not yet delved into any system of mark-making, nor paid attention to producing a varied pictorial surface. I'll be honest and say that it was something I hadn't thought about. I've never been one to use much paint, but I see now that that very lack does not speak to painting's history save before Modernism.

As is usual with this program, the very essence of Critical Theory II dovetailed nicely with these realizations about my work. The main thrust of the readings of CT II covered the great relevance and histories of the mark, stain, trace and index. I was hoping for a bit of clarity, as the essays were quite dense; Jacques Derrida's linguistic acrobatics being the most challenging. The inimitable Michael Newman led the group in a surprisingly lively discussion over the four seminar sessions that lent a greater lucidity to the subjects at hand. We also engaged in mini-presentations in which we demonstrated our comprehension of mark and/or trace. I chose to illustrate the notion of mark-making with a slightly altered take on the Surrealist automatic drawing exercise of entopic graphomania; this was well-received. Needless to say, I heeded Michael's elucidation of the texts and will expound upon these topics further in subsequent research papers.

My elective seminar for this semester was Tony Apesos' “Death, Loss and Mourning.” Despite the inherently depressive implications of the course title, it was actually quite dynamic. There were interesting crossovers with Critical Theory II at points with the Pliny story (the colloquial “origin of drawing” story) and Freud's “Mourning and Melancholia.” It was a fascinating workshop, as Tony had us looking at death rituals from (initially) a very non-Western point of view. It was also highly edifying: there were beautiful and contemplative moments, especially during our visit to the Forest Hills Cemetery, where we looked at classical statuary in a poignantly picturesque setting.

Worthy of mention is a panel put together by Oliver Wasow and Michael titled, “Sourcing, Outsourcing and Resourcing.” They both spoke, looking at the contemporary modes of distribution and adaptation of visual resources – primarily through the vast structure of the internet. The levels and modes of appropriation have shifted and sped up to a dizzying degree, and Oliver and Michael unpacked the phenomenon through their practices – photographer and academic, respectively. In my opinion, the panel was very successful. It is crucial as an artist to be conversant with these new realities taking shape via the massive image exchange archive that is the web.

I have been told that my expanding knowledge of contemporary art and critical discourse has accelerated my growth as an artist thus far. A willingness to engage in critical dialogue with an equitable perspective has also undoubtedly been helpful to my cause. Of course, I need to maintain these standards this semester (and beyond). As a painter, I must truly consider the plastic nature of the medium and technically revel in the very fact of oil paint itself, as mentioned earlier. Size will matter in this case, and I foresee a technical challenge there, which will no doubt manifest a new vector of narrative. Conceptually, I will tighten up the parameters, directing my focus on more “theoretical” frameworks, but also focus through a more “oblique” lens regarding the iconic and thematic sensibilities of the visuals. I will continue to explore self-referential themes as well as give atypical treatments to typical subjects with a more ambiguous and contemporary directive.


Books And Articles:

The Picture in Question: Mark Tansey and the Ends of Representation - Mark C. Taylor


Eric Fischl and the Death of Painting – Mark Vallen, Art For a Change, April 2006

Thick and thin - painters and curators discuss the state of painting in the last two decades – Robert Storr, ArtForum, April 2003

End of Art – Donald Kuspit

Ellen Harvey: New York Beautification Project  - Ellen Harvey

Painting People: Figure Painting Today - Charlotte Mullins


The Death of Painting and The Writing of Painting's Post-Crisis, Post-Critique Future – Christopher Miles, Art Lies – A Contemporary Quarterly, issue 47

Monday, August 2, 2010

Working with Stuart

My writing and research from the past semester would not have been much without the impetus and inspiration from my Group 1 advisor, Stuart Steck. Here are his final remarks regarding my Semester Summary:

I really enjoyed reading your reflections on the past five months. I'm not going to respond with lengthy comments ... but I do have some quick thoughts:

I have rarely worked with someone who was able to internalize (and employ) critical discourse so quickly and seamlessly. It is apparent that you have grasped the complex history and development of modern/postmodern art. More to the point, it appears that you clearly understand the problems and challenges that face artists today. As you rightly note, the expanded field of contemporary art makes it difficult to gauge how one's work can convey a clear sense of meaning and purpose. How is it possible to demarcate one's position in the vast landscape of visual culture if this landscape has no apparent boundaries? Should artists simply strike out blindly in one direction or another? And has the increasingly expansive field of artistic practice effectively rendered a traditional medium (like painting) obsolete?

Your answer to these questions are both thoughtful and practical. I like your assumption that painting is a material practice that can effectively mediate how we engage and understand the world (that is to say, it can mediate our perception of the world in a manner that is fundamentally different from video, performance, and installation). Of course, I'm not always certain that your so-called "exclusive" audience gravitates towards painting with this in mind. I still believe that collectors now buy paintings because they constitute high-end commodities, and thus engender a certain degree of social status and cultural capital. But, as you suggest, this is fine as long as the artist can "see the walls". In fact, these "walls" can provide a useful source of critical commentary, aesthetic content, artistic transgression, and cultural parody.

In any case, I like your idea of creating work that reaches out to a broad audience -- even as it continues to address aesthetic discourses that are specific to painters. Yet ... I still wonder whether painting can transcend our need for immediate gratification and our current reliance on digital technologies. And I also wonder whether painting can survive in an age when people no longer possess the "literacy" needed to read paintings. This is THE $64,000 Question right now (at least in my mind).

But despite the great challenges that face artists today, I believe that you possess the determination and intelligence (not to mention the skill) to re-assert painting's historic relevance. And while your artistic path may be full of obstacles, I think you have charted a course that will lead you to success. As you conclude: "I must strive to delimit my artistic province with a definitive nod to the character of painting's strengths while acknowledging the history of its limitations." This sounds like a reasonable game-plan to me!

As you can read here, his feedback is as insightful and engaging (which was true when it came to all of my essays) as one could hope for. He really challenged me to think and engage all my texts with focused critical rigor. I hope to work with him again before my MFA is done.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Working with Kurt

Since my second residency has officially brought the Group 1 semester to a close, I can share some of the feedback from the excellent professionals with whom I'd worked.

Kurt Kauper, as I'd stated, was a fantastic mentor, especially for someone new to the AIB program. Here is his final report on me:

I think that Robert made enormous progress during the time I worked with him. As I've mentioned before, when we started our dialogue he was making extremely traditional work, and didn't seem to understand how it functioned in relationship to contemporary art or current critical dialogues. But because he was so open to critical information, and so willing to consider ways of looking at his work that he hadn't considered before, the paintings he made at the end of the session were far more sophisticated than anyhting I could have imagined. I was particularly impressed by the painting of a man shearing a sheep: I thought that he found a way to make an allegorical painting (something he is clearly drawn to, for whatever reason) but allow it to have an ambiguity and openness of interpretation that made the experience of looking at it somewhat strange: while my first thought was that it was traditional allegory, the elements he chose to include could in fact have been an unusual but actually experienced situation. It alowed for experiences of uncertainty, destabilization, open-endedness, ambiguity, I might even say uncanniness, that seemed to much more succesfully speak to contemporary experience than straightforward, traditional allegory ever could. And that actually made me more willing to also engage with it as a traditional, psycho-sexual allegory. The painting of the woman falling onto/floating above a tarmac was, for me, less succesful, primarily because its artifice was so obvious that it didn't allow for nearly as broad a range of interpretations as his other painting. Nevertheless, it was a step forward in relationship to the first allegorical studies he produced. Juxtaposed with the painting of the man shearing a sheep, it set up a narrative of traditional gender representation that Robert didn't intend. We had a long discussion about that, along with what I thought were the weaknesses of the second compared to the first painting. He very willingly participated in the discussion, and engaged in a very positive way. He didn't become defensive at all, and seemed to get a lot from our dialogue. I also had some critical things to say about the new paintings he has planned, and again he was extremely open to the discussion. Robert's impressive productivity and willingness to enage in critical dialogue, along with his expanding knowledge of contemporary art and critical discourse, has accelerated his growth as an artist. He is now working at a graduate level. He was a pleasure to work with.

Hard not to be happy with this.