Calder's Gibraltar

Calder's Gibraltar at MOMA is a study in contrasts, weight and weightlessness; smooth vs rough; natural vs man-made. It also contrasts with much of his other work in that it is much simpler and less refined than most "Calders" you'll see. 

Gibraltar

lignum vitae, walnut, steel rods, and painted wood

1936

I think it is very revealing that the museum's label says it was a gift of the artist in 1966. Certainly he could have had easily sold it at some point during the forty years he kept it in his personal collection -- so it must have had a special place in his heart. Though it isn't stunningly beautiful like the majority of his work, and is much more experimental in a playful way, it still contains iconic qualities of a "Calder" such as balance.

 Gibraltar (closeup)

I love how the white ball is both defying gravity and subject to it, as if it should roll off the "table" and is instead seemingly drawn to the "rock" as if it is large enough to create its own powerful gravitational field. I also love how the "wing" is floating high above the "rock" next to the round star/planet/sun.

 Gibraltar (closeup)

Like a lot of the idiosyncratic Calder wood sculptures I've seen, this piece doesn't seem to have been made for public consumption. I feel artists need to make time for creating work that isn't made to be sold, work that gives their creative mind space to make things that are made for no good reason at all. That is what I love most about it. 

First Pieces of 2015

My summer home improvement projects inspired me to create a coffee table that fit with the rest of my home decor, so I got a plywood piece that I made several years ago and added some color. 

Coffee Table

latex paint and stain on board

19.5" x 21" x 44"

2015

I like that I was able to start with a simple box because the painting is really the focus, the structure is merely a three-dimensional canvas.

In painting it, I wanted to create something that is different from the other pieces in the room while still being clearly of the same series. 

The side facing away from the couch is my favorite. I'm also especially fond of that garish green stripe among the nondescript white ones.

I painted this found "coffee-table-ish" table at the same time because it was old and grimy, and I knew it wouldn't take much more time to do as long as I used the same colors. Because of the underlying old paints that I couldn't clean off completed tape wouldn't stick, so I needed to use a different design. I figure you can never go wrong with polka dots and I like that this one has a more playful feel than the other. 

Painted Found Table

latex paint and stain on wood
12.5" x 25.5" x 42"

2015

It always feels good to add something to my home I know I'll never see anywhere else.

Not A Polaroid

At the recently closed Carlo Mollino exhibit of polaroids at Gagosian Gallery in NYC there was this non-polaroid Carlo Mollino. There was no label information and it can't be found on their website since it wasn't actually part of the show so I don't know much about it other than it is brilliant and made of cherry. 

I love everything about it, the shapes, the interactions of the different pieces, the originality,

so I thought I should share it. If anyone has any information to add, please do.

In Pursuit of A Great Liberation Through Seeing

Over the summer I reworked my dining room table, adding an experimental acrylic painting to the surface. I liked how it turned out, and especially enjoyed the surprises that would arise in the painting process. Each of the geometric shapes had a blend of colors, unplanned, that contrasted with one another in a way that emphasizes the brush strokes.

Home Coming (closeup)

acrylic on wood

2014

So I decided to try the same technique on non-functional pieces.

October 2014a

acrylic and shellac on wood

26" x 17" x 2"

2014

On these I couldn't help myself from adding a shellac french polish process to the work. I've thought a lot about this and, on one level, feel that if I could resist, the work would take much less time and I wouldn't mind offering them for less, perhaps even helping to sell a few.

October 2014a (closeup)

But I really like the effect shellac adds. Not only does it add depth, it also changes the painting from something that is apart from the sculpture to something that becomes an indistinguishable part of it while adding mystery as to how it was applied.

October 2014b

acrylic and shellac on wood

30" x 26" x 2"

2014

And the process of rubbing shellac on the surface over many many hours is so ridiculous, so obsessive, that it sets the piece apart from other paintings, adding a recognizable sense of caring. I know this doesn't come through well in images, but in person I hope viewers can really feel an intense emotional dimension to the work, even if they can't know how many obsessive hours I spend finishing a piece.

 October 2014b (closeup)

However, on another level, I feel that the shellac work devalues the art, that the polish might trigger an association with craft and furniture which is, by its nature, devalued. And honestly, I want people to make that association but I want it to be made in a way that doesn't devalue it, which may be an impossible challenge.

October 2014c

acrylic and shellac on wood

22" x 37" x 2"

2014

Regardless of what people think, or how much they value my process, I have decided I to do it this way; I can only hope that at some point the appreciation will follow from my own appreciation and obsessiveness.

October 2014c (closeup)

I've also thought a lot more about my choice in using wood as a medium for sculpture. In theory, something similar could be done in stone, or ceramic, or metal, or numerous other media, but I love how wood, more than any other medium, adds an indisputable uniqueness. That the work cannot be replicated on any level -- from the base, to the shape, to the paintings on top, to the finish -- is especially important to me. I like how it is completely impossible to copy any of these pieces.

November 2014a

acrylic and shellac on wood

9.5" x 46" x 3"

2014

I also love how wood, being organic, adds warmth. I know if I painted the same thing on a bronze they would feel very cold.

 November 2014a (closeup)

Additionally, I have to say that I absolutely love each of the little "painting-ets." I feel they have a beautiful spontaneity, each completely unique and surprising, which adds a level of fun and joy.

 November 2014b

acrylic and shellac on wood

13" x 38" x 3"

2014

But personally, i also feel the "painting-ets" add an aspect of spirituality to the work. I see each of them as body-less "beings" with their own personalities and histories, floating though space and time, joining or splitting off from other "beings" as circumstances dictate.

 November 2014b (closeup)

The truth is, I listen to an audio recording of The Tibetan Book of the Dead (as read by Richard Gere -- and he does an excellent job of pronouncing all those funky words, I assume) too much. I have it on my iPod along with a very eclectic mix of music, set on shuffle, so that various chapters pop up at unpredictable times in the most incongruous segues (though Modest Mouse followed by a chapter on the wrathful deities seems about right). 

 November 2014c

acrylic and shellac on wood

35" x 8" x 4"

2014

But I like it because it is important to know what to do when you no longer have a body, and to know that it is the same, in many ways, as when you do have one. I figure it must come through my work, though perhaps I'm just projecting onto it.

November 2014c (closeup)

Anyway, that is what I see, and think about, when I look at this work.

November 2014d

acrylic and shellac on wood

33" x 8" x 4"

2014

As The Tibetan Book of the Dead is subtitled The Great Liberation Through Hearing, if I were to be truly successful in this work, they could be titled The Great Liberation Through Seeing.

 November 2014d (closeup)

And though I do consider myself completely delusional in many aspects of my life, I have no expectation that I would ever accomplish it. But that doesn't mean I won't try either.

Another Way To Say Nothing

I've really enjoyed my bumper sticker project over the last year and a half for a number of reasons -- they are fun to design, they are easy to talk about, people respond to them, and they have a concept that I think is important: saying nothing -- not telling people what to think, do, believe; and giving them something that they can interpret for themselves incongruously placed where they would expect an overt message.

Over the summer I got the idea that I could raise the volume of my silent propaganda by doing the same thing on a billboard. The thought scared me at first (and, actually, it still does) because the significant increase in expense, but when I realized the thought wouldn't go away I became resolved to the the fact that I would do it. As it turns out, I realized the vision pretty quickly, settling on a spot in Queensbury, New York, Route 9 (north facing), installed on November 11 for a four week period.

Queensbury, New York

billboard

10'5" x 22'8"

2014

I like how it came out, and I like the juxtaposition with a liquor store and a fast food restaurant, but I am now very curious how it is received or whether it will be noticed at all. I saw it in person on the November 12. During my visit, I didn't get a sense that anyone had a thought about it -- I didn't see anyone looking at it and the one person I asked hadn't seen it yet. I get the feeling that it is one of those things that you'd have to pass several times before you give it a second thought so, in that way, I'm glad it is in an area that local people would likely drive by to work or shopping on a regular basis.

Queensbury, New York (second view)

When I committed to the space I was under the impression that at the end of the rental period the billboard would be destroyed as part of the process of putting a new one up, but, to my surprise, I found that it is printed on a woven plastic fabric that I can actually keep when it is taken down. So, instead of it being a ephemeral installation, I can actually retrieve and sell the piece. As a result, it is theoretically possible that I could get enough money from a sale to afford another. It would be wonderful if I can make this an ongoing series in different locations around the country. Hence, I've been aggressive sending out press releases with the hope that I can generate enough publicity that the piece will have value when it is taken down.

Queensbury, New York (third view)

Admittedly, there is a crazy element to renting a billboard with no words or identifiable image (though, I believe, all good art is at least a little crazy so this gives me hope that making it is the right thing to do) but since I couldn't ignore the idea, realizing the vision alone is worth the effort and expense. Still, I have hopes, and my desire is that people see it and have a response -- any response. Perhaps it is seen as a crazy, irrelevant, self-serving, esoteric, opaque, and/or just plain confusing, but even a negative response is self-generated thinking from the viewer, so I feel the process is positive even if the emotion created is negative. However, if viewers see it as I intend, as a gift of mental space, as an object that is purposefully not telling people what to do and, thereby, saying "be," I will be even happier.