Defining a New Paradigm

In the words of the true and faithful Samwise Gamgee, "Well, I'm back."

If you were wondering (all two or three of you - and you probably weren't because you know me well enough personally), I did get into the Master of Fine Arts program at Art Institute Boston. It is a low-residency program - which means - I attend 10 days in January and June each year for two years, with a 5th residency at the end to deliver and defend my thesis. During the rest of the year, I am assigned an Advisor and a Mentor, with the former acting as a guide for my research work and the latter as a guide to my artwork. It's actually a little more esoteric than this, but I'm going for a general description.

I have been home one week since the end of my January residency, and suffice to say, I am a changed artist. It is not yet clear how this change will affect my work, but there is no doubt that there will be some major shifts in the old paradigms.

In fact, one of my tasks is to give a summary of that very experience as my first piece of writing, so I won't give away all that much with this post. Consider it a preamble of sorts. It is more than worth mentioning at the outset here that I have encountered the most intelligent and focused people I've ever seen in such a large group. I speak not only of the incredible faculty, but the student body (about 85 +/- groups 1 through 5) as well. Also, I have made fast friends with all in my group. We all have. It's quite the bonding experience, when we're pinned like a herd of jacklit deer as the klieg lights of Critical Theory are suddenly turned on us en masse. We did indeed have to decompress in the evenings at various establishments in the Kenmore area, such as - Eastern Standard, The Lower Depths, Foundations, and of course, the venerable Cornwall's. More on this later.

Noteworthy, too, is the fact that I am back at MECA, teaching the Majors Studio in Illustration, as well as a CE course in oil painting. I still very much enjoy both, and am amused by my being in front of the class again, just when I was getting used to being in the class. It's a great contrast, and such lessons are not lost on me (not completely, anyway).

This blog, which has been on the outs of late, will begin its own new paradigm, documenting my current practice. This, of course, refers to my course of study and practical applications of such in my artwork while I move through this excellent MFA program. It should be quite a ride.

Video Interview at Rabelais for Portland Food Heads

Erik Neilson has a Q&A video series called "Vidappetit," which he posts to his Portland Food Heads blog.

Check out the interview - HERE

If you like this sort of thing...

...read on. It's my MFA statement of intent. I've omitted the institution's name, in case someone thinks it should be confidential:

Artist's Statement of Intent

Robert M. Sullivan

September, 2009

When John Singer Sargent's teacher, Carolus-Duran, invoked the cardinal rules of painting to his students with a cry of "Velazquez, Velazquez, Velazquez!" - he was essentially exhorting them to follow "tradition, tradition, tradition." His reasons for such an emboldened and singular proclamation follows the logic of all realist pedagoguery that has existed in the art world: A successful approach containing specific techniques regarding drawing and painting has existed since the time of Giorgione (at least). Therefore, the teaching should follow that one should learn those techniques prior to any "reinvention" of said approach.

Since that time, as art history clearly shows, the classical approaches have not only been reinvented, the traditions themselves have been largely eschewed; cast aside for the sake of a more contemporary, "relevant" context. Yet, the tradition still lives on - however, in a much less catholic atmosphere. Nevertheless, I have been schooled in these painting traditions, and they are my province.

That I am a skilled representational realist painter inexorably ties me to the millstone of anachronism as popularized in the contemporary art world. In the review columns, critical theory runs on autopilot in this regard, deigning such skill sets as superfluous and facile, having nothing new to offer the art world, let alone affect any cultural change or interest. And ultimately, the question gets proposed: "Is representational painting dead?" And I have to assess my relevance as an artist in such a genre, not to mention the relevance of the genre itself.

But, what gives rise to this rather moribund query? Well, before any attempt at fully answering that question is made, other questions must be proposed: "Is photography dead? Is the written word dead? Is sculpture dead?" Or, are these questions sort of ludicrous? Of course they are. None of these things, just because they are "old" (two centuries, 4000 BC and 20,000 BC, respectively) requires that they are inapplicable to 21st-Century thinking. It is notable that no one is asking questions about these subjects with the same sort of vociferousness as regards representational painting. The proclamation of the imminent "death" of any established art form is a foolish venture. The relevance of art is subject to larger cultural shifts, borne on the shifting currents of broad society and not a closed coterie of critical theorists.

That said, my personal take on how my art is viewed has shifted, as well. No longer am I angry or dismissive of the modern art scene at large, with its intent to pigeonhole me into a world of kitsch and sidewalk festivals. Having been not only trained in classical traditions, I also had the benefit of training in classic illustration tradition, borne from the same wellspring as 19th Century French atelier traditions, but with a decidedly American twist, thanks to Howard Pyle and those who followed after. So, when the Norman Rockwell retrospective was shown at the bastion of all things contemporary in art - the Guggenheim - in late 2001, and brought in the biggest crowd (not to mention a box office record) to date in that institution, I felt completely validated. Someone who was so completely vilified by the contemporary art scene as a practitioner of "bad art" was suddenly embraced into one of its most sacred temples. The lesson learned is that I need not try to impress any particular faction with my art; there should be no concern with these kinds of thoughts, and they should be removed from my process.

So, I am a traditionalist living in contemporary times - therefore - I can reflect both of those things... and why not? That is the journey of the representational painter, anyway. Being inundated with all things contemporary - be it technology, media, or cultural environments - cannot be avoided completely. So, it comes out in the work in some way, perhaps not discernible, perhaps bold and confrontational, but it will be in there. We record, we reflect, we invent, we narrate. The "soul" of any artist is their work, and one's soul reflects one's experiences. I do not recall whether or not I've had a past life, so I cannot draw experience from that. No, I live in 21st Century America, and my art will reflect that when I am long gone, and my work remains.

The whole argument of "old" and "new" is also irrelevant, in my estimation. Anything new is just an interesting amalgam of the old. My own brand of art stems from old and new: The 19th Century academics; Sargent; the Hudson River School; the Golden Age illustrators; the Wyeths; Edward Hopper and Rockwell Kent; fantasy art such as Frank Frazetta; comic art such as John Buscema and Frank Miller; and new realists Vincent Desiderio, Bo Bartlett, Alyssa Monks and Tula Telfair, to name a few. Looking at all those names and eras combines into an artistic soup that is certainly new. Granted, there are a lot of artists who take their cues from what's listed here, but not from all of it - and, if so - certainly not the way I have done it. Plus, if all these are added up against my personal, contemporary experiences, then we have something familiar and expressive enough to draw an audience into the experience without the oftentimes impregnable barriers of requisite critical thinking that pervades todays Post-postmodernist era.

But, such as it is with my artistic journey, it is decidedly incomplete. There are many artists of like and unlike mind: peers and contemporaries who participate in the world of art at this time whose experiences are no less relevant than my own. And there are teachers whose deep scholarly examinations provide a plenitude of information reckoning art in this time and in times past. Were I to invest in the time to learn from these folk, who are indeed kin to me within the world of art, it would allow me to move into the next phase of my journey. What that is is unclear, but I do know that the Master of Fine Arts program at the [name omitted for confidentiality] can provide that opportunity for me to make that investment.

In my visit to an in-residency open house at [XYZ U.], I was more than impressed at the level of focus and commitment of not only the faculty, but the students as well. It touched off a realization of the fact that the kind of detailed exploration into looking at one's own work (not to mention others') with a group of one's contemporaries is more than critical to the next stage of artistic development. It may be trite, but it holds true that one cannot artistically grow and mature in a vacuum. My art is not merely part of my livelihood, it is who I am as a person. It needs to grow right along with me. An MFA at [XYZ U.] would facilitate that growth, and I am willing to accept the school's excellent curriculum as my guide, should I be accepted into the program.

How do people keep up with this stuff?

(please check out the Eli Phant and Rabelais sites - both places are very much worth a visit)

I don't know about you, but as you can see from the above invitations, I've been busy. Busy enough not to be able to post any of this stuff to the blog. I suppose this is very bad of me and not at all business savvy, but, man, there just wasn't any TIME. I had a hard enough go of it just finding time to add this stuff to the robsullivanart.com website, which, to me is a little more important, as it showcases my work, and not my written diatribes.

So, yeah, I was right out straight with these shows. I am happy to say that they were both successful in terms of my expectations. A lot of good people got a lot of good artwork for not a lot of money, and that's totally cool. Plus the food, the drink, and the excellent conversations with new people was worth doing this alone.

Just prior to the Rabelais opening, I was really spreading it thin. My post as adjunct faculty at Maine College of Art was solidified, and a syllabus had to be written, plus my MFA application had to be made, and, of course, the paintings had to be done for the show a week before, since a family vacation was planned for that last week in August. Somehow, I managed to do all those things. I will be the first to admit that I have poor skills when it comes to this level of multitasking, but when the pressure is on, it gets done somehow.

So, right after a wonderfully relaxing vacation, totally unplugged from the world out on an island in the middle of Casco Bay, it was suddenly not summer anymore. The kids went back to school and I went back into the front of the classroom at MECA. I am teaching the juniors (and a few seniors) in the illustration department, and the course is all about the narrative in illustration. Lots of stories, lots of preliminary work, lots of good stuff is already happening. But, man, was THAT sudden!

And tomorrow, I start my Continuing Ed @ MECA class of outdoor painting - which we will take indoors in a few weeks, taking a study from the outdoor session and making it into a "studio work." I've taught the same class at Sanctuary a few years ago, and got good results.

Maybe I will blog this stuff, maybe I won't have enough energy. I don't know right now. I'll give it a shot. But I think the world would rather see some new paintings from me than read stuff. Nevertheless, Studio Berehaven has served me well this spring and summer- it was more like a second home to me, I was there so often - and any new and excellent stuff that comes out of there will make it onto this blog at some point in time.

PS - Both these shows are still up if you want to see them in person! But, the Eli Phant show may come down soon, and work was taken that was sold. Nevertheless, the store is worth a visit, like I said. And there are PRINTS there! Yes! Also, the work at Rabelais is going fast! Two works were sold to a buyer from San Jose, sight unseen!

Minumental in 10 "Easy" Steps!

Okay, here's the how-to on painting your basic "minumental" (remember to click on the images for a closer view):

1. Setup. Here's a little sake still life with a coral-colored shirt as my background. The chroma is a bit intense, so I should neutralize that somewhat. I've got my linen-mounted panel secured to a board on my easel, and I'm ready to go!

2. Drawing in raw umber. Nothing too fancy. Just getting the sizes right and my ellipses somewhat accurate. I will correct them further as I paint.

3. Palette. Not a lot of color in this setup, so all I need is (clockwise from bottom left) burnt umber, cadmium red, cad orange (2 piles - one for pure grabs of orange, the other for mixes with dirty brushes), cad yellow, titanium white (same clean & dirty piles), raw umber, ivory black, and ultramarine blue. The mixed bit in the middle right is my base color for the background. It's mostly orange and white with touches of cad red,raw umber, and black to neutralize.

4. Background values. Just a basic 3 which I will blend on the panel as I go. FYI - as I lightened the value, I needed more light warms to counter the coolness of adding white, so orange and yellow were added. For the dark value, I needed warm darks, and I used red and burnt umber, adding touches of black if it got too warm. I mixed enough to cover the panel and have some left over for corrections and reflective light in the objects.

5. Background block in. Simple enough - just adding to the drawing of the objects by establishing edges. The cast shadow is basic, and will be amended later. The gradation is designed to keep the eyes in the painting, focused on the objects.

6. Mixing the object colors. The ceramic is pretty neutral, and not full white, either. With the exception of the specular highlights (generally speaking, on shiny objects, these are the highlights that mirror the light source directly), it's maybe a value 9 or 9 1/2. The cool shadow plane side of the objects are about a 3 1/2 to 4. That's on the far right. The others are strictly neutral (white, raw umber, black) and are 6, 8 and a 9.5 right to left. I will add warms to these to imitate the background color infusion as I paint - mostly a red-orange, no doubt.

7. Blocking in objects. No detail yet, of course. Just getting a sculptural sense of things. The decanter isn't really round, it's hand made, so it's a little asymmetrical. I'm making it more symmetrical, just to keep things simple. It's at this time, I've decided to make a little change.

8. Pattern detail and... changes! Um, yeah, if you hadn't already called it, everything was a little right-side heavy, so I added the second cup. Better balance now, no? So, I blocked it all in, and now I'm going wet-into wet with ultramarine blue for the bamboo design on the decanter. I'm refining the reflective lights, too, as well as the cast shadow definition.

9. More detail & refinement. Completing the rear cup, trying to keep the values a little more compressed, in order to make the front cup really pop. Again, I'm using background colors to correct the ellipses and blending edge planes to keep the cups looking rounded.

10. Finished! Notice the brighter lights and slightly warmer tones in the foreground cup. It's the closest thing to the viewer, so in order to maintain a sense of atmospheric perspective, these are the "tricks" you need to employ.

Other than a bit of a design glitch, this one was pretty straightforward. The limited palette, due to the predominance of the ceramic, helped speed it along a bit... Although the multiple ellipses and patterns made up for it. All in a day's work, as they say.

You almost forgot...

"The Mantle" oil on illus. board 8" x 10"

Yeah, remember that I had done studies and such for this painting? Well, here it is. The intent was to do this much larger, and to be honest, it would have been far easier to do it that way. Getting the facial features and such at this size (the head must be a half inch high) was just a pain. Plus, I think I painted this thing at least 3 times. The first time, I had big retouch varnish problems. Then, it fell off the easel into a full palette. And the third time was because I repainted the head, and messed up the background around it while doing it - not seeing the correct values due to the paint sinking into the surface (a new kind of treated foamboard: it sucks).

Anyway, I don't know if I'll blow this up or not. At the moment, being in the midst of the second round of minumentals, I have no intent. There's certainly enough good info here to do it, so I may use it later. Or perhaps I will just sell it as a finished piece. Who knows?

I had other reference ready to do a series of these, but again, it will have to wait. Perhaps some day there will be a window to re-indulge my figurative ideas. At least the next time, I'll know better about trying new surface materials. That painter's foam is crap. And I'm sure getting used to the triple primed linen. Supersmooth surfaces can expose a ton of surface anomalies when photographed. I had to scan this (new scanner!), because I varnished it with Galkyd Lite. The retouch varnish proved impossible to apply on this surface. But the Galkyd is super shiny, and when I went to take a pic of this, all I could see was a reflection of me with a camera. That wouldn't enhance the feel of this piece very well, would it?

First Friday June @ Art House

If you didn't make the "minumentals" opening night, we're having a mini-reception for the First Friday Artwalk. Here's the listing from the PACA site:

ART HOUSE PICTURE FRAMES
61 Pleasant Street, Bakery Studio Building #110
Rob Sullivan - Minumentals
all works are oil on linen panels, 6 x 6 inches May 15th - June 27th
www.arthousepictureframes.com
207 272 4800
Venue Description: Picture framing and gallery space.
Hours: Monday - Saturday 10:00 - 6:00.
Directions: We are located at 61 Pleasant Street right next to Artemisia Cafe, in the Bakery Studios Building.

Come on down and have a look and a glass of wine (or two!).

(PS - thanks to JamiePeeps for the photo!)