Art Space Talk: Elise Freda

I was introduced to the art of Elise Freda while attending the Bridge Art Fair preview party in Chicago. Elise Freda’s paintings are seductive, headstrong, and dicey. In recent years she has been known for her using acidic colors. In a sense, Elise walks a fine line between prettiness and vulgarity with her abstractions- a balance between solidity and organic forms- purity and chaos.

Elise is represented by Ch’i Contemporary Fine Art (www.chicontemporaryfineart.com).

Brian Sherwin: Elise, I observed your work at the Bridge Art Fair in Chicago. Your work was represented by Ch'i Contemporary Fine Art (booth 29). How did the exhibit go for you?

Elise Freda: Ch’i Gallery as a whole did very well. For me, the fair was mostly about exposure. Tracy Causey-Jeffery, the director and owner of Ch’i, gave me feedback about the positive response of both collectors and curators to my work. So overall, I would say the Bridge Art Fair also did well by me.

BS: Is this your first time being involved with the Bridge Art Fair?

EF: No, Ch’i presented my work at the Bridge Fair in Miami last year.

BS: Your encaustic paintings are a joy to observe. Can you explain your process... how do you go about creating your paintings? Do they start from sketches? Or do the images come to you as you work?

EF: Thank you! My process is two-fold. The sketching aspect involves lots of thumbnails. This is how I discover what is lurking in my brain. I use cheap paper and just pound out about 15 at a time, working very quickly. I accumulate piles of the thumbnails. Sometimes I refer to them before, or as I paint, but often I think their purpose is exploratory only. Yes, the images come to me as I work; I’m process–oriented, always have been. One time when I was in college I tried to paint with a step-by-step approach, doing a developed drawing where I established composition and color. I found that when I went to put this information in to a painting --I just had to stop. It was over. I had already done it. Ever since then, my painting approach is how I just described it. I need suspense and mystery. I don’t want to just copy something.

BS: Elise, when did you first discover that art would be an important part of your adult life? Are there any early memories that inspire your work?

EF: My parents are both artists/painters/textile designers so I grew up around art and art making. It was natural to draw; I recall making quite a mess on the floor. My brother and I used to draw together sometimes. From grade school on art was something I did ok with ---as opposed to some other subjects LIKE MATH. But that’s another story. An early visual memory that is still absolutely fresh is a visit to MOMA with my parents. I was standing in front of a Matisse and I thought wow, very cool, so paintings can have drips in them!! I was very impressed by that freedom I think.

BS: Your work often combines a solid form of abstraction with a more expressive/organic form of abstraction. Why do you juxtapose these two styles of abstract forms? I must say that is is rare to find an artist like you who can make it come together.

EF: I really like contrast. This continually sustains my interest. I like to see how I can possibly combine two opposites and make it work. Problem solving I guess. I have painted abstractions since college, and used organic shapes. Later I wanted to add some structure to all the biomorphic shapes. It took a long time before I figured out how I could do it. The absolute geometric shapes, with dense saturated color, are the direct opposite to my translucent organic built up grounds. Somehow this satisfies me.

BS: Elise, how has society influenced your art?

EF: Interesting question. I would go back to my comment about freedom. I have never wanted to feel "stuck", and sometimes I think society can create that kind of situation. Making paintings is my way of staying clear of any traditional paths or expectations that society might try and impose. On the other hand, I have absolutely zero interest in making art that comments on current issues. That is not what I respond to in an image.

BS: Elise, Can you share some of your philosophy about art and artistic creation?

EF: For me, art and creation is about tapping in to a place within; I paint intuitively. But I respect art’s formal nature. There are things that make a painting a good painting and of course I’m always shooting for that. And that striving towards the almost unattainable is ok by me. I don’t follow trends or try and figure out what the art market is paying attention to at the moment. I’m old enough to feel that’s a huge waste of my time. Art is a path and journey, a way of finding my way through life. Art is all about passion, awareness and continuity..

BS: Do you have any 'studio rituals'? As in, do you listen to certain types of music while working? What helps to get you in the mood for working? How do you snap out of 'creators block', so to speak?

EF: I paint in silence. I live in the country so I am attuned to the sounds of trees in the wind, birds, and other wild life. I tried music----way too distracting. A cup of coffee and a jug of water are the only rituals. I’ve been struck with blocks in the past. I think it was when I was making success a goal. I’m much more calm, focused and balanced about art and art making now. Letting go is the technical term for this I think. It works.

BS: Discuss one of your pieces.What were you thinking when you created it?

EF: "Lotus" (image above), is a recent painting and I think Ch’i hung it at the Chicago Bridge Fair. I wanted to make a painting that had lots of glowing color and space, with organic shapes and lines coming and going in the layers. I wanted to end with an orchestration of line and shape on the surface that reminded me of water and plants. When I was a kid we lived in New Jersey, and we had a pond with lots of lotus flowers. Amazing plant!

BS: Elise, where did you study art? How did your mentors point you in the direction you are on now with your art? Were they an influence?

EF: I started my college education at Orange County Community College in Middletown, NY. This was the 1970’s and they had a super art department. This was where and when I started to get serious; I tried to learn everything possible. I spent lots of time in the library poring over art magazines from the 50’s. That was my touchstone. I loved all that expressive emotion and painterly abstraction and used that as a direction for learning to paint. The faculty there celebrated that thankfully. From there I went to the University of New Hampshire; another good art department. But a huge departure in aesthetic; it was all about still life, landscape and the figure. I think it was good training. But as soon as I graduated I went back to my intuitive home, abstraction.

BS: Why did you choose the medium(s) that you use?

EF: I painted in oil for years, layering and layering and waiting forever for each layer to dry. I sort of excavated my images. About 12 years ago I kept seeing wax on the labels of paintings that I was responding to----in galleries in New York City mostly. I decided I had to try it myself. I read as much as possible and then just plunged in. Encaustic opened so many doors for my work. It made it possible to build translucent grounds all in a day!

Fast and spontaneous, perfect for process oriented art making.

BS: Elise, where can we see more of your art?

EF: I’m working with Ch’i Contemporary Fine Art (www.chicontemporaryfineart.com), Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and they keep a sizable inventory of my work at the gallery at all times. My website is updated regularly www.elisefreda.com.

BS: What was the toughest point in your development as an artist? Have you ever hit any major snags, so to speak?

EF: Making art is always tough. But it’s a pleasurable kind of tough. It’s not an easy choice of lifestyle, but a meaningful one. There are snags all the time, practically daily in the studio. It’s part of the process. Just keep going.

BS: What are you future plans? Care to share any details about your next stage of work?

EF: I’m starting to explore using acrylic paint in addition to painting in encaustic---I must emphasize----I’m not using them together in a painting---separately. I needed to have a change, add something new to my studio life. It feels right.

BS: Finally, is there anything else you would like to say about your art or the 'art world'?

EF: The art world wouldn’t exist if people didn’t make art. It’s there, and artists are in their studios. One thing I can say, I never think about the art world when I’m making paintings------only when they are done.

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Elise Freda and her paintings. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space News: What is art?

(Is this art?)

What is art? It is obvious that we can't simply run to a dictionary to find the answer. People have already made their minds up as to what art is and what it is not. However, for every person who claims to know what art is there are another 1,000 people who would boldly disagree. In a sense, art can't be defined- yet people continue to try. It is becoming more apparent in the news.

(Is this art?)

Artist Tracey Emin recently said this about her hotel room bed in Venice. "This bed isn't art, it's just a bed and I'm laying in it," declared Tracey. "It's a different bed from the bed I showed at the Tate Gallery." She went on to say, ""The fact that I took it mentally and put it into another space, that's what made it art. Art is up to the artist. If the artist says something's art, then it is.". Is Tracey right? Can each artist define art for him or herself?

(Art?)

(Is this art?)

(Maybe this is art?)

(What about this?)

What about all the people who do not agree with the artist? The people who say, "Your art is not art!"? In this sense, art is a disagreement- a disagreement against the nature of what other people feel art should be. Thus, it is still art because it contradicts the views of those who disagree- art can be a form of manipulation. Confusing, eh?

So what is art? Can you give me your definition? One definition of art goes like this, "Human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature.". Another, "High quality of conception or execution, as found in works of beauty; aesthetic value.". It would seem that we can't come up with a single definition. Each definition of art often contradicts the rest. Thus, I would say that art is meant to break boundaries. It can't be defined.

Some try to answer the question by pointing in an aesthetic direction. However, one persons view of beauty may appear ugly to someone else. Different cultures have different ideas of what is beautiful. Sub-cultures within a culture have their own aesthetic views. Thus, art can't be defined by aesthetic principles alone unless we do it with only one culture in mind- and that is one of the greatest forms of prejudice. Correct?

(Art?)

(Is this art?)

(Maybe this is art?) (What about this?)

Honestly, which cultural view of beauty do we use to define art with if we are to break it down in terms of aesthetic principles. Do we choose western aesthetics? My art is influenced by several cultures. If art is defined by a single cultural view of aesthetics my art would no longer be art. Right? What about your art or the art you admire? Would it still be art if broken down in this manner?

(Art?)

(Is this art?)

(Maybe this is art?)

(What about this?)

Tell me your view of art. What is art in your mind? Should one form of art be considered less based on definitions of what art should be? Should some art not be considered art all? Who should determine these definitions? The artist? People who observe works of art? Or should we see art as something that is defined, but really has no solid definition? The question is timeless and the answer is never set in stone. Tell me what you think.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space News: Blair Depicted Naked Over the Shame of Iraq- Here is the Naked Truth As I See It.

Another example of art mocking political figures and the influence of the cult of celebrity can be observed at the Royal Academy of Art's annual Summer Exhibition in London. Michael Sandle's "Iraq Triptych" was unveiled last Wednesday to the media. The triptych depicts British Prime Minister Tony Blair and his wife, Cherie, as Adam and Eve.

The figures appear as if they are struggling to cover their nude forms outside their Downing Street home. However, there is a deeper meaning to this piece as it seems that Blair is struggling to 'hide' from the controversy over British involvement in the Iraq conflict.

The two figures stand before their door with a scene from hell surrounding them. A soldier beats a hooded and naked prisoner in one corner while a pile of corpses- one with tape covering its mouth- give a deathly gaze at onlookers. Does this piece suggest that Blair can't escape the horrors of Iraq even in the comforts of his own home? Or does it suggest that the war could very well come 'home'- to the streets of London? Does the image of Blair and his wife as Adam and Eve hint at this conflict being more about religion than oil, safety, or anything else? Are the central figures supposed to reflect a sense of clam from the surrounding storm? I'm not certain- but lately I tend to feel that any piece that involves individuals of 'supposed' status is nothing more than kitsch- a cheap way to strike at the hearts of viewers. I'm sick of it.

While using images of the powerful, wealthy, and popular is nothing new in the art world, I see a trend lately that seems to focus on said use in order to gain media attention for the artists- nothing more. After all, the media was invited to view the piece before anyone else (It will be open to the public on Monday).

This is a common practice, but this piece is supposed to reflect a public view- those who are upset with Blair's policy. I would think it would have been better to allow the public to view it first. In my eyes this piece has lost a great deal of integrity before it has even hit the eye of the public.

True, it might be good business practice for an artists to work in this manner- due to the exposure- but I'm to the point that I can't respect artists who exploit the cult of personality, celebrity, or whatever you wish to call it. Can't the Daniel Edwards and Michael Sandles of the art world think of a better way to express the struggles of our time? Or do they have to rely on such images in order for their art to have an impact with the public?

It seems that the trend of artists using popular images to 'enhance' the meaning behind a work of art is growing. It goes beyond anything Warhol set out to do. This practice is leaking into the academic community as well and it is a practice that I'm starting to loathe. This is the 'naked truth' as I see it.

Perhaps I'm being harsh, but I appreciate viewing art that conveys a strong message without having to resort to such imagery. What do you think? Do I need to open my eyes? Or am I viewing this work for what it really is?

Keep in mind that Sandle's piece is among 1,200 works in the Royal Academy exhibition. Why is it that out of all of that art this piece gains media attention? True, the media loves controversy, but I'm sure there is ample supply of controversial art at the exhibit that does not involve the image of a politician or celebrity.

That is what leads me to think that certain artists are creating work like this in order to gain media exposure- they know it will be covered in the media. I think they are gaining it for themselves rather than for the message they are spinning. Again, that is the 'naked truth' that I've observed as of late. Open my eyes- if you can.

Take care, Stay true

Brian Sherwin

Art Space Talk: Carson Collins

I was introduced to Carson Collins over a year ago while observing art online. Mr. Collins is a very devoted painter and he has many interesting stories.

Carson has been working on The Ocean Series for more than a quarter of a century. This body of work reveals the work ethic of Mr. Collins. It is rare to find an artist so devoted to a theme.

You can observe more of his work by going to the following link: www.theoceanseries.com


Brian Sherwin: Carson, the subject of your art is the four elements in their most majestic setting - the shoreline. Your images have captured aspects of earth, air, fire, and water. Why have you had such a strong focus on these themes? Do you feel that painters should share this same focus in their work or is more of an issue of personal choice?

Carson Collins: I guess you could say that this conflation of a traditional marine sunset with a color-field painting, something that originally crossed my mind sometime back in 1977, has turned out to be a fairly fertile idea for me. Call it a Remodernist approach to the color-field tradition if you like, but I'm not trying to deconstruct anything, fit into any category, or prove any theories.

BS: Do you plan to work on the Ocean Series until the day you die?

CC: I don't make any plans to speak of; I kicked the hope habit long ago. There's no tomorrow. So far, the motif continues to fascinate me, as it has for the past thirty years.

BS: I understand that you have traveled the world and that you have lived in many places. How do the customs and experiences you have faced during your travels influenced your painting? Do you consider yourself a vagabond? If so, is that reflected in your work? It seems, based on your work, that you are a man who seeks new horizons- both physically and mentally.

CC: I've lived and worked, for a year or more, in 7 of the USA States and 6 other countries, not to mention the ones I've visited. In my experience, the problems for an artist are the same in any country: poverty, and the fact that very few people are ever going to understand or appreciate what you're doing.

Am I a "vagabond"? I've done a fair amount of traveling without ever having had any capital to speak of, if that's what you mean. But I'm past my prime. That sort of thing was a lot easier for me at 25 than it was at 52. I was born in 1953.

I confess that I am much inclined to travel. "No horizon too far." It’s arguably the best form of education. I intend to go to Tierra del Fuego some day soon. The atmospheric light and the ocean wave forms there must be something truly amazing. There's a legend about an ancient stone ruin down there that glows in the dark, and my friend (physician and poet) Chris Horak and I intend (in the usual way of aging adventurers) to find it.

BS: Carson, one of your major influences has been the art of Claude Monet. What connections to his work have you strived to create within the context of your own work. Do you share some of his philosophy about artistic creation? If so, can you go into further detail about that?

CC: Monet, in my opinion, was the greatest painter that ever walked the earth. He wasn't much of a philosopher. His last series, the water lilies, are transcendent. Visit the Orangerie in the Tuileries Gardens in central Paris if you can. Sit down on the little bench and let one of these grand, astonishing works surround and dissolve you.

BS: When I first observed your work- about a year ago- I noted that there seemed to be a trace of Mark Rothko in your paintings. Is Rothko an influence? Have you ever visited the Rothko Chapel?

CC: I walked into the Chapel (on the campus of Rice University in Houston, TX) one day in 1974, expecting to find less than nothing; just another high art hoax. My reaction was both overwhelming and totally unexpected. I literally wept, much as I also did years later when I saw the Van Goghs in Munich. Rothko was a genius and a tragic hero; he sought and achieved theexpression of an authentic personal spirituality within the then- dominant idiom of Ab-Ex. I don't think there's one famous painter living today who's worth the shit on the bottom of Mark Rothko's shoes.

BS: I'm not sure why, but when I view your paintings I think of the Iliad and other classic texts. I'm assuming that you are well-read since your work conveys that... at least to me.

CC: Perhaps the thing that gives you this impression is a quality of timelessness, which is inherent in my subject matter as well as in my rendering of it.

Here's something Robert Wallis said about my painting, Et In Arcadia Ego: "The late afternoons in Arcadia are never ending where time comes to a standstill. The waves move but the pattern has no end, and the mind seizes on nothingness and holds it. The colors evoke a sense of all-enveloping warmth that reinforces the idea of finding the magic moment within. The time will come to step away from the picture, but it becomes embedded in the mind's eye. With a moment of stillness it will return, and the peace will return. The sadness is knowing that Arcadia is a place to visit, and that happiness by it's nature requires a contrast to give it value. That's why we can't stay there."

The ocean is ever-changing. Observe it closely, its forms and colors are in constant flux, it’s never still, you cannot exhaust its infinite variety. And yet, it is always and profoundly the same; the ocean symbolizes the passage of time and the persistence of memory. To say that this image of the far horizon and the dying sunlight has broad metaphoric powers would be to belabor the obvious.

BS: I'd love to hear more of your stories.

CC: Here’s one that might be of some general interest: I knew Joe Glasco from 1973 until 1982. After that I never saw him again; I learned of his death when I saw Julian Schnabel's film, Basquiat, on TV in 1998. (As you may know, the film is dedicated to Joe and he is a player in two of the scenes.) My relationship with Joe was intimate, complex, and problematic, but for purposes of this story let's just say that I was Joe's friend and Julian Schnabel was also Joe's friend.

One evening in 1980 Joe got a 'phone call from Julian, who was distraught because the fashion model he had been dating (I can't remember her name) had dumped him, and he had an opening at Mary Boone's gallery in a couple of days. He didn't have enough work ready for the show and was too upset, he said, to work... Joe and I went over to his place. Julian made us dinner (spaghetti with peanut butter sauce). It was a mess; the man was hysterical.

Anyway there were these four little collage drawings sitting on the mantle and Julian was too upset to finish them. Joe suggested that Julian should let me finish the "drawings"- which had pictures of architectural elements and statuary that had been ripped out of old magazines glued on - because, "he has a good eye", as Joe put it. I applied myself to the task while Joe and Julian sat in the kitchen over wine and reefers (Joe was an alcoholic who never drank but he liked to smoke pot). There was a pile of old magazines, glue, and assorted pencils and paints...

When I had finished the drawings to my satisfaction I went back into the kitchen and said, "they're done." Joe and Julian came out and had a look. "Are they really finished?" asked Julian. Joe thought about it for maybe 5 seconds and said. "Yes." Julian smiled through his tears. "Great", he said "That's twenty thousand dollars." I wasn't offered a percentage... but, I will say this for Julian: He was sincere about being insincere.

I met Basquiat in 1979. I was coming home around dawn and there he was, tagging the building that I lived in at 100 Greene St. He was writing SAMO SAMO SAMO SAMO SAMO SAMO all over the place with a can of white spray paint, as he had been doing to everything within reach, in SoHo, for months. I politely said good morning (because he was blocking my door) and asked if he couldn't do us all a favor and maybe use some different colors once in a while, or at least write something else for a little variety. He replied with a rather common racial epithet that I won't repeat here. I didn't think much of him then, and I don't think much of his paintings today.

I have met Mary Boone and been to events in her gallery. I was 26 years old when I met her and I'm not aware of her opinions having influenced me even then. Let's just say that I was not favorably impressed, to put it mildly.

I don't know how Mary Boone or the late Leo Castelli or any of these art-star makers decided who they were going to push. There are probably any number of personal factors involved in each individual case. It doesn't strike me that the process is particularly organized or guided by any grand principle other than the fact that the public doesn't know anything about art and never will.

There must be a thrill that they get from the knowledge that they have the power to take any junkie off the street and make him an art star, and of course there's money to be made.

What I'm trying to get at is that I was a part of that scene and witnessed the rise of both Basquiat and Schnabel, and I don't really think there was anything much to be learned there, apart from some trivia about the players and a few amusing stories.

I think fame and material success for an artist is almost entirely a matter of luck: being in the right place at the right time, knowing the right people, being capable of sucking up to them in a way that they find gratifying, and having whatever kind of art you are predisposed to make coincide with an existing trend.

On reflection, there's something else that probably should be said here, even though it might appear so obvious as to be not worth mentioning: The reason that Mary Boone helped Julian Schnabel and Jean-Michel Basquiat was because she liked them and liked their work. Further, they were artists who were in step with the fashions of the day, and thus were relatively easy to sell. I really don't think there was anything particularly sinister about it.

BS: What is this conflict you had with David Cohen (art critic for the New York Sun)?

CC: There was never any conflict; quite the opposite. I read his article, "Ambiguity and Intention", published at the Online Symposium on Art and Cognition organized by Noga Arikha and Gloria Origgi in January 2003, and posted at interdisciplines.org Some of the things David said were thought-provoking (in a disturbing sort of way), and I sent him an email expressing some of my contrasting views on the subject. He replied, and we had a dialogue that Mr. Cohen found sufficiently interesting to publish in the September, 2003 issue of his e-zine, "Art Critical."

I confess that logic is a subject that fascinates me almost as much as painting, and I genuinely enjoy discussions involving inference (a.k.a. arguments) about art.

BS: How have things changed since the 70's and 80's as far as the art world is concerned... is it too corporate now? Do you think younger artists are being exploited more than ever?

CC: So far as I have observed in my lifetime, nothing ever really changes in the art world. Themore things change, the more they remain the same.

BS: How did Schnabel and Basquiat act towards others who did not 'make it' once they became huge?

CC: Basquiat and I took an instant dislike to each other. Schnabel was never really a friend of mine, he was Joe Glasco's friend, and whatever connection I had with him ended when Joe and I parted ways; since I was never a friend of either one, I really don't know the answer to your question.

BS: So tell me more about your experiences... who you've met... the countries you've been to. The influences you've had.

CC: I've lived in the Bahamas, St.Barthelemy, Jamaica, Costa Rica, Sweden, and Mauritius. The two most interesting encounters I’ve had with famous people were George Harrison and Timothy Leary.
I did a light show for the immortal musical genius, Jimi Hendrix, at Curtis-Hixon Hall (Tampa,FL) in 1968, but he only said a few words to me. I was all of 15 years old at the time. I remember thinking, "Jesus-take-me-now!" He was my big hero then. Still is, as a matter of fact...

By far the greatest influence on my life has been Vipassana Buddhism, specifically the practice of meditation on the breath, and Metta (Universal Love), as taught to me by a truly extraordinary man, John Travis. John is the real thing; he’s part of a handful of people who brought this spiritual technology to the West. Vipassana wasn’t taught outside of monasteries until the late 1980s. Anyone who’s interested can learn more about John and Vipassana at his web site, www.mtstream.org/teacher.html. By the way, be forewarned; it’s not for the faint-of-heart.

BS: Tell me more about meeting George Harrison and Timothy Leary. Did they have an impact on your art?

CC: Not directly. George Harrison was an enormous influence on me (and a whole lot of other people) because of his role in popularizing Transcendental Meditation. I began the practice of meditation and eventually became a Buddhist largely because of something George Harrison did by promoting the Hindu teacher, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, at the height of the Beatles' fame and fortune.

My meeting with Mr. Harrison was completely accidental; I met him in a French restaurant in a very out-of-the-way place. He was dining alone, and I approached his table to pay my respects to him. He was extremely gracious, invited me to sit down and have a glass of wine. I was a little drunk.

The thing I remember most about him was that he was profoundly sad, and, it seemed to me, lonely. I remember feeling angry at the thought that this man, who was something of a hero in my mind, did not seem to enjoy his advantages as much as I would have wished him to.

I met Dr. Leary in a Japanese restaurant in NYC; came out of the restroom and suddenly there he was, making a telephone call. I normally don't annoy celebrities but for some reason I felt compelled to speak to him. I thought he was an important man who had shown the courage ofhis convictions, a sort of contemporary intellectual martyr.

He was a tenured psychology professor at Harvard who was fired and subsequently put in prison, you know. The discovery of LSD will one day be seen as the important milestone in human evolution that Tim believed it to be.

Anyone who wants to know the real story should read "Storming Heaven; LSD and theAmerican Dream" by Jay Stevens. Anyhow, Tim gave me his telephone number. A few months later he was a guest in my house. He was a wonderfully amusing man; incredibly energetic and young at heart; unpretentious, just a whole lot of fun to be with. He was a sort of Holy Fool. When he smiled, all of the colors got brighter. I consider it a great honor to have known him, however briefly.

BS: So due to your interest in Vipassana, would you say that your work is an expression of your spirituality? Do find some form of redemption or solace in your work?

CC: Yes, absolutely. The central theme in my painting is the search for stillness, the sort of profound and lucid calm that is the result of meditation or contemplation; another main theme is the relationship between humans, the ocean, and the atmosphere. The intent of my work is to create an ambiance where the spiritual dimension of this relationship can be experienced.

BS: Can you discuss your relationship with Joe Glasco? How did he impact your art?

CC: Joe Glasco influenced me more than any other artist. I had been drafted, and was enrolled in medical school at UTMB, Galveston. The year was 1973. It was called a 2-M deferment; I was supposed to go to Viet Nam as an Army Surgical Officer in one of those M.A.S.H. units after I graduated. President Nixon pulled the plug on the war while I was still in school, so I never actually went over there.

Joe Glasco had a studio in Galveston at that time, in an old cotton warehouse on Strand Ave. Anyway, I met Joe when I was a student, 19 or 20 years old, and he was in his early 50s; about the same age as I am now, come to think of it. Joe was quite a colorful character: he had once been the youngest man ever to be shown in the New York MOMA, had been one of Jackson Pollock’s drinking buddies, etc

Joe and I had the sort of relationship that Oscar Wilde famously referred to as "The Love thatDares Not Speak it's Name." It lasted for about 9 years, off and on. It was problematic, because Joe was gay and I wasn't, really. But I was broad minded and narcissistic enough to be capable of that sort of gender-bending (up to a point), and bisexuality was quite fashionable in those days.

Anyway Joe and I fell in love with each other; so much so that, for a while, it didn't seem to matter what kind of plumbing we had. Of course the relationship was doomed from the start.

Joe was the only actual living role-model I ever had for being an artist. He gave me an art education that couldn't have been bought, not for any price. He could have done a lot more. I have one of his paintings hanging in my studio, and I've often raised a glass to it and said,"Here's to Joe Glasco, who could have given me the World, and didn't." But I've no doubt that his intentions were good. He didn't think I was ready, and he was probably right. It's my misfortune that Joe died when he did, but Death is no respecter of our little plans, is he? He comes whenever he wants to.

Joe didn't have much to say about painting, but he taught me just about everything I know about being a painter, which is an entirely disparate skill. I sure do miss that mean old queer. I think about him often.

His work is largely forgotten at this point in time, and undeservedly so; some of his last paintings really are amazingly good. I believe the largest and best collection of his late work is in the Fred Jones Museum at Oklahoma University. (www.ou.edu/fjjma/)

BS: So would you say that your paintings are the place you want to go when you pass? Are they a reflection of the kind of balance you would desire in the hereafter?

CC: I don't believe in any kind of hereafter. Now is all there is.

BS: When did you first decide to pick up the brush?

CC: I had a very severe illness when I was seven years old; was in a coma for a few days, and it was not at all certain that I would survive. There was brain damage; when I recovered I had temporarily lost my hearing. It didn't fully come back for six months.

At that time I suddenly developed the ability to draw and paint with a facility, an accuracy, a compositional sense, and a strange, coherent, plunging perspective; something that was astonishing in a child of that age. I started painting then and I'm still at it.

My mother had an MFA and an M Ed, and she taught me the basics. I also read Irving Stone's biography of Van Gogh around that time, and the Van Gogh myth captured my child’s imagination completely. From that point on, there was no turning back; I was going to be a painter, no matter what. No choice, pal. The die was cast.

BS: We have discussed your art, experiences... even aspects of your youth in regards to your painting. What else would you like to say about your paintings?

CC: It's really very simple: Look at the painting. Notice how you feel. Some viewers have found them evocative. Believe it or not, other viewers have been made extremely uncomfortable by them; they really do tend to throw a certain kind of person back on themselves in a way that can be quite confrontational. Threatening, even. How strange is that?

Other people find them completely worthless. "Wallpaper" is a disparaging word that I hear quite often from trendy artists these days. But, hey, they said that about Jackson Pollock as well, didn’t they? What the hell... You can’t please everyone. Some people like them and some don’t.

BS: Finally, is there anything else you would like to say to younger painters?

CC: I'm only 53 years old, for Christ's sake! But, OK, here's some advice, with the caveat that I've never been successful, and my advice is probably worth exactly what the reader is paying for it. Don't ever upset yourself over anyone's negative opinion of your artwork. Really, there are only two possibilities: either they're right, in which case you have the opportunity to learn something, or else they're wrong, in which case, why should you upset yourself over some fool's mistaken opinion? It's all good. In either case, you decide.

Question everything in the privacy of your studio. If you've never experienced a crisis of doubt when you realized that everything you had ever done was shit, there's no hope for you. To the World, on the other hand, be confident. Know what your convictions are, and have the courage of your convictions.

As Goethe said, boldness has genius, power, and magick in it. Finally, I think the most important question that we have to ask ourselves, as artists, is one of intent.

What, exactly, is the artist's intention for this thing that they've created? What effect, exactly, is it supposed by the artist to have on others? It seems to me that this particular aspect of the question of intentionality is strangely absent from most so-called critical thinking about contemporary art.

I hope that you have enjoyed reading my interview with Carson Collins. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Public Debate #1

The following writings are the beginnings of a critical debate between two artists and Myartspace members, John Gargano (profile) and Sten Are Sandbeck (profile).

When you've finished reading, leave a comment (or comments) to keep the ball rolling! This debate is open for everyone to flesh out.

Also, if you have an idea for another open debate, or would like to submit a critical writing for posting, please feel free to send an email to luke@catmacart.com

Now here it is, for your consideration:

==============

John Gargano:

What has become of us and our art?

It has been evident from the time of the cave paintings that humans have been compelled to express themselves by taking that which originates from somewhere deep within their psyche and manifesting it in visual fashion. Visual art has been, but for the last 30 or 40 years, the realm of creative aesthetic expression which, if done with the utmost of concern, has provided viewers with a dimension of experience far above and beyond one’s everyday encounters. Art of merit has been the realm of the soul, which, for purposes of this discussion I will define as the instrument of one’s perception. Clearly, art has evolved from the mimetic illustration and representation of objects and events to the impressionistic rendering of same to the point where artists began to render feelings and other concepts through abstract visual compositions. With the emergence of the avant garde, artistic expression began to encompass not only that which was abstract, but found objects, performance, installation, and many other art forms.

My view is that we artists have made a significant error in logic about the field of visual expression in the last 30 or 40 years. As abstract art began to emerge, the public was clearly at a loss to comprehend what was being created. At this point third party endorsements took on a much greater significance because many in the public, while trusting the earnest intent of artists, simply had no idea what the new abstract art was about and they had no means by which they could evaluate its merits. From this point, the public became vulnerable to the purveyors of all manner of infantile visual expressions made in the name of art. This phenomenon has now expanded beyond the visual arts and has become the very substance of many areas of performing arts and literature. It has infected our entire culture.

As the public began to expand their tolerance for that which they did not understand, artists began to misinterpret their forum for acceptance and it became de rigeur to produce things that defied understanding – for better or worse. At this point many of us lost track of the horizon. It was commendable that people began to understand that something could be of merit even if they didn’t like it or understand it. At this point we could then bestow respect upon that which we thought had merit even if it didn’t meet our own tastes. We called this “appreciation” and it was admirable to have a broad sense of appreciation. Many people looked upon a sense of appreciation as a means to elevate their social class status. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with expanding one’s horizons, we subsequently failed en masse to follow through with critical evaluation and judgment because we continued to grant respect to that which did not deserve it – because we had allowed our tolerance for that which we did not understand to expand beyond reason. And art, not being entirely within the realm of reason or logic, made us vulnerable to committing this unfortunate error.

It was at this point that we began to see the immense proliferation of the banal being placed upon a pedestal, the unsightly elevated to a status it did not deserve and the wholesale absurdity of phenomenology and cognitive expression being raised to the status of “art”. We continued to consider these not-art objects to be within the realm of that which was previously reserved for art. We went so far as to even consider expressions of attitude, including contempt, to be aesthetic artistic compositions. We allowed social and political commentary devoid of any aesthetic merit, if expressed visually, to be called art. We allowed any form of linear scribble, scratching, or smearing of paint or any other substance including fat and feces to be called art. And the time honored cliché began to become a badge of honor – “we were simply trying to find the boundaries.” Problem is, we failed to follow through by asking, “the boundaries of what?” And further, we failed to consider that the merit of expanding the boundaries would cease when we came upon logical limits. Reasonable limits became anathema. They were perceived as inhibiting our creativity.

I submit that the overwhelming majority of us began to willingly share and even glorify our collective denial of the obvious facts, despite the truth that deep within, many of us recognized at some level the absurdity of what was occurring. Of course we had recently learned in the 60’s and 70’s how awful we all were because we had, up until that time, engaged in genocide, racism, violated the civil rights of others, repressed our feelings, harshly disciplined our children, severely suppressed our sexuality and failed to tolerate the differences between many disparate types of people and their practices. What had we become but the scum of civilization? What atrocious deeds were we not capable of? This seems to have precipitated a collective guilt from which we needed relief.

And so we began to purge the daemons and cleanse our moral and intellectual transgressions by elevating nearly everything in sight and nearly every human practice to the level of art. Not just art, but aesthetic art. And wasn’t it just admirable of us to collectively be so open, liberating, tolerant, forgiving, and above all, understanding? No, I must submit, it most certainly was not.

We became so accustomed to being challenged that we even considered that which challenged our sensibilities to be art. What holier grail could there be than to see the works of an artist that challenged us? If we were such despicable cretins, our only route to salvation was to be confronted with our deficiencies to the point of discomfort. Well, believe it or not, there is an even holier grail. It would place many of us in rapture these days to see an artist challenging him or her self to the extent the public has been challenged over the last 30 to 40 years.

This business about redefining aesthetics has become nothing more than pure nonsense. Simply doing something differently, for even a few decades, does not elevate us to the position of lexicographers who can edit the dictionary and change the meaning of words and concepts. The word aesthetic means something. I recently observed some art in MyArtSpace.com by Sten Are Sandbeck that I feel is not art by any means. While I would make the distinction between my criticism of Mr. Sandbeck’s art and his person, I must express my opinion that Mr. Sandbeck’s “compositions” include work that is poorly executed, sophomorically conceived, devoid of aesthetic merit and absent of anything that either inspires or moves me. To Mr. Sandbeck personally I say, you can do better! To all of us who are doing this type of work in hopes of “restructuring of the subject-field of aesthetics”, I say – please, stop this nonsense! If you consider art to be the signature of a society I would grant the last 30 or 40 years of banal expressions to be a valid mirror, however, I must ask - to what extent are we the purveyors of fine art if all we are doing is mirroring a junk culture which poisons our own citizens? Have we nothing better to say or do? Have we not come full circle back to mimetic art when we mimic the putrid substance of our banal culture. Has this not created a vicious cycle? Is this the extent of the contribution we are able to make? To what new lows will we succumb by challenging the public as opposed to challenging ourselves?

The misguided practices of non-artists, making non art, are far from expanding the subject field. Searching for the boundaries of what is acceptable is the work of infants, toddlers and immature adolescents – or heaven forbid – children grown old. I hope the practice of lowering the standards by which aesthetic compositions are evaluated will implode. The sooner the better. This is the manner in which obsolete technologies, out of date products and infantile ideologies die. It is time we draw a line and begin a new era that ends the last 30 years of the dark age in contemporary art. We can do much better!

John Gargano
www.garganoart.com

=============

Sten Are Sandbeck:

Response to John Garganos letter “What has become of us and our art?”:

I will go straight to what I consider to be a core problematic in Garganos text: what is art and why and how did it get there, do we want it and what’s going on. The idea Gargano puts forward that something has gone really wrong in the arts lately and specifically the claim that “redefining aesthetics has become nothing more than pure nonsense” points to some very important aspects of the processes of art.

Although I am somehow excluded by Gargano from being willing or able to make true art, I find this attempt of exclusion to be an important part of how art comes into being. It is my view that processes of exclusion and acceptance are quite necessary for the dynamics of the art discourse and for arts very existence. I do not think it is possible to agree on what art is and then we can all concentrate on making it.

In my opinion art cannot be a fixed situation of correct communication defining what can be done and what not, and subsequently who is in a position to act. On the contrary I think of art as a constant process of moving the very conditions of thought and visibility. Utterances that do not fit in the already existing idea of art are put into the world and if they are engaged, they will change the given context of visibility, the pattern of communication through which we view ourselves and the world.

All communication is based on an equality principle and the surplus of artistic expression apparent in myartspace is a consequence of the egalitarian nature of art. This equality is made out of structures of knowledge and language that also govern who can say what, what can be said,

what is visible and even what is thinkable. In its very nature, these structures cannot contain all: To make sense out of something means something else will remain or become nonsense, to render something visible means something else will remain invisible, if someone has their say, someone else will not be heard aso. Thus the equality needed to communicate is also that which suppresses what does not resemble, excluding it from having a say, of being visible, of existing.

Hence there is a need for dynamics both in art and democracy: It must not and cannot come to a standstill. It is precisely from within the ongoing processes of changing the structures of though and communication - the speakable, visible and thinkable - that art emerges. Art is therefore exactly the denouncing of a “correct” principle; it is always trying to bring into being the principle that is missing for its own existence, the principle the established does not contain.

The art-scene is where visibility as art is established. It is constantly moved and redefined by alterations and disturbances caused by artists forcing that which was not included into existence as art. This is not automatic: nothing becomes art before it has been accepted onto the scene and not rejected, it must be accepted into the discourse, the substance carrying the idea of art. But an acceptance of what is different changes the

principles of the discourse: it is altered by the new visibility it now embraces. The logic of the art-world, what makes sense and what is visible is therefore ever-changing.

The role of the art-object is to relate two systems: that of the established meaning and order, and that of the senseless and nameless. If such relations connect that is what we call art – we get a glimpse of it whenever that which did not exist suddenly exists. However it is not so much a question of what is being seen but what its visibility means or presupposes of thought.

Thus the artwork includes (among various participators) its onlooker’s thoughts, that is the changes of thought that must be made to really “see” the piece. So art can never establish itself as consensus, nor go back, as every art-incident exists only in the moment it is absorbed into the established and the established is changed (However it might be (re)discovered by anyone at any time). Due to the complexity of the art-world, this slow floating process might take considerable time, so works

of art can stay living for quite a while, being in process of moving from the excluded to the included. (Moreover I think what we normally would consider to affect works of art in this sense goes for series of works or even the whole of the artists production). Art-objects will thereafter remain as remnants of a process passed, turning into objects of history.

This way art is a kind of drama, but with aspirations to the real, a staged conflict of that which already has its place, and that which must build its own space or rather invent its own reason as it does not fit within a system of rules and regulations. From this understanding new work will and must destabilize the existing set of relations to come into visibility. And the established order of identities which is being disturbed must redefine itself to accept the previously undefined. Here the established run the risk: That which is not willing or able to go through the process of redefinition stands a chance to be excluded in the other end.

This is then what we might mean when we talk of aesthetics in art. It is not a question of the shape of the object but rather which forms and principles it takes to accept its very existence, which forms of thought it demands to put it into context. What the piece might point to as theme is then also part of this aesthetics. And this creating of an object from the formless requires a certain amount of fiction.

So existence of art is not a fact: The making of objects as pieces of art is simultaneously a break with the established logic and a reinvention of that logic; it is more making up art than making it. Art is then first and foremost a discussion about if art actually exists.

Sten Are Sandbeck
www.stenaresandbeck.no

Art Space Talk: Bruce Samuelson

Kocot and Hatton introduced me to Bruce Samuelson. Mr. Samuelson's interest with the figure reveals itself more as an interest in, or an accumulation of shifting glimpses. Torsos and appendages turn and twist as a result of Samuelson's search for a formal resolution that seems determined to remain open to the flux of process and discovery. One thing is certain, we end up in the presence of human form and activity.

Bruce Samuelson is a Professor of Painting and Drawing at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia, PA. He is represented in numerous public collections which include: the Picker Art Gallery, Colgate University, NY; William Penn Museum, Harrisburg, PA; Philadelphia Museum of Art; and Rutgers University, NJ; Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art.

Mr. Samuelson is represented by J. Cacciola Galleries (www.jcacciolagallery.com), Rosenfeld Gallery (www.therosenfeldgallery.com) and Wendt Gallery (www.wendtgallery.com).

Brian Sherwin: Bruce, Kocot and Hatton introduced me to you. How did you meet them? Have they influenced your art?

Bruce Samuelson: We met in the early 60’s while we were students at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine arts. Yes they have and still do influence me...perhaps inspire is a better word. Kocot and Hatton’s work ethics, fearless experimentation with ideas and mediums and exceptional technical execution is constant in their collaborations.

BS: Have you collaborated with others? Kocot and Hatton make a great team. It is rare for artists to work so well together. Do you agree?

BS: No, I have not collaborated with anyone. The closest I ever came to it was when I was a student at the Academy. The film director David Lynch and I, from what I recall, wanted our paintings to move. We talked about collaborating on a very strange animated film. Unfortunately I chickened out. I agree, Marcia and Tom make a great team. They are very strong individuals that are highly synchronized. Who ever reads this interview might want to read your excellent recent interview with Kocot and Hatton.

BS: I notice that you often work on ragboard. Do you prefer that surface?

BS: My works on paper are on high quality papers, however, ragboard is my preferred support...It can take whatever I can throw at it.

BS: When I view your figures I'm reminded of Egon Schiele's work. Is he an influence?

BS: He is definitely one of my Gods. But I would have to include influences from Michelangelo, Goya, Rembrandt, de Kooning, Le Brun and Bacon.

BS: In regards to your figurative work... I notice that the bodies are often fragmented- limbs are often missing- this conveys a sense of decay. Is that intentional?

BS: I never thought of it as decay. However, my work does involve destruction. My work usually begins in chaos, and develops an organic structure by chance. This structure is often destroyed and rebuilt again and again until there is nothing more that I can do.

BS: I also noticed that the faces of your figures often run off the page, so to speak. Psychologically it conveys a sense of loss... or disconnection. Can you go into further detail about that? Is that your intention?

BS: I would not say that it is a sense of loss, but more of something not yet found. Seeing the completeness in the fragment has been an interest to me since I was a student at the Academy. One of the first and most powerful images that I studied at the Academy was a life size plaster cast of the fragmented Torso Belvedere. Other great works of Art that have inspired me are Michelangelo's late crucifixion drawings and his late pietas, also Rodan’s Walking Man, Cesanne’s Large Bathers and works of Giacometti. These works and many others that have an incompleteness about them are of extreme interest to me. This unfinished quality suggest a continuation...the viewer in essence completes the work.

BS: Do you ever push your figures too far, so to speak? It would seem that you see the creation of them as a gamble... they either work or they don't. Is that so? Would you say that your work controls you as much as you control the tools of its creation?

BS: It is always hard for me to decide when a work has gone too far or not far enough. Every mark is a beginning and every mark is an ending. But if I do sense that a work has gone too far, becomes too explicit and has lost its mystery, then it is dead. I have to destroy part or all of it so that I can rebuild it and hopefully bring it back to life. Yes, it is often a gamble, however, nothing is left by chance but left by judgment. I would not consider working as a form of control but rather a dialogue. I have to allow the work to point the way. And I must respect the intrinsic nature of the material and let it do its own thing. If I don’t do this then the work will be contrived and unsuccessful.

BS: Bruce, I understand that you are an instructor at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Can you describe your instructional style?

BS: Addressing the individual is most important. I believe it is critical to identify the student’s strengths, weaknesses and personal interests. I feel technical skills and formal issues are very important and they should be encouraged on all student levels. However, I also feel that personal ways of seeing and expressing personal ideas should also be encouraged. Basically I try to instill in the student the qualities I described as Kocot and Hatton having.

BS: Do your students ever influence your personal work? Is instructing art a 'give and take' of information?

BS: I do not think they influence my work directly. Although their energy often rubs off on me...they also drain me. It takes at least a day to clear my head of two very full days of teaching. Yes it is a ‘give and take’. I think I have learned more from teaching than I have from being taught.

BS: Do you have any suggestions for current art students or anyone who is considering art school?

BS: My usual advice is keep your mind open and work your ass off. This is probably not a sufficient amount of advice. so I would like to include three of my favorite quotes that have greatly inspired me. ‘If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.’ -Henry David Thoreau ‘We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ -T. S. Eliot ‘people who have found true knowledge fall silent. If I were a philosopher I would stop painting; I’d do nothing at all. That would be the silence of Zen. The only thing to do is to carry on searching for the light; I haven’t found it yet, and that’s why I paint.’ - Antoni Tapies

BS: What about self-taught artists... any advice for them?

BS: Same as the above. I would add that your best teachers are nature, history [Libraries, Museums etc.] and experience.

BS: Finally, where can we see more of your work? Do you have any exhibitions planned in the near future?

BS: I recently ended an exhibition at the J. Cacciola Gallery, however, the three galleries that represent me always have examples of my work on hand.

J. Cacciola Galleries, 531 West 25thStreet, New York, NY, 10011, www.jcacciolagallery.com

Rosenfeld Gallery, 113 Arch Street, Philadelphia, PA 19106, www.therosenfeldgallery.com

Wendt Gallery 1550 South Coast HWY Suite 102 Laguna Beach,CA 92651

www.wendtgallery.com

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Bruce Samuelson and his art. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space News: Paint-A-Thon in Chicago

Olga Stefan- the Executive Director of the Chicago Artists' Coalition (www.caconline.org)- sent me some information about the first Sunday afternoon Paint-A-Thon in Chicago. The Paint-A-Thon offers the public a chance to observe a room full of accomplished Chicago artists as they work. Observers can mingle with the painters and bid on their artwork. It appears to be a unique experience for both the patrons and the artists.

The Paint-A-Thon is styled like a walk-a-thon. Donors sponsor individual artists in painting before the public, while the public has the opportunity to bid on the artwork. The Paint-A-Thon is different than many art auctions where the artists are asked to donate their work entirely. This event allows individual artists to receive 25% of the highest collected bid for their artwork. The remaining 75% goes to support the CAC. Thus, the event supports the painters as well as CAC.

The Chicago Artists' Coalition is a great service organization that supports artists and provides art programming to the public in Chicago. This visual arts organization is one of the most active that I've observed. I met several of their representatives while attending the Artist Project exhibit in Chicago. CAC fulfills a highly-valued and much-needed position in the Chicago art community.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space Talk: Mark Sheinkman

I observed the art of Mark Sheinkman while attending the preview for Art Chicago. Mr. Sheinkman was born in New York City in 1963 and received his BA from Princeton University. His work is included in many major collections.

Mark uses line to create complex multi-layered images that create a forceful grace and energy. Sheinkman’s images reverberate and create a magical, mysterious space that at the same time retain an intellectual somber quality.

Mark Sheinkman currently lives and works in New York City. His paintings and drawings are represented by Von Lintel Gallery. ( www.vonlintel.com)

Brian Sherwin: Mark, I observed your work at Art Chicago. How did the exhibit go for you?

Mark Sheinkman: It is interesting that you describe an art fair as an exhibit, and that you first saw my work at an art fair.
While poor viewing conditions and the overwhelming quantity of art are some of the obvious problems of fairs, art fairs are an increasingly important type of exhibition and part of the contemporary art scene. Even someone who has all the time and money necessary to fly around the world to look at art may not make the effort to go to Brooklyn, let alone Beijing, to see an unfamiliar artist at an unfamiliar gallery.

According to my criteria for art fairs, it went well. There was exposure, a lot of interest and sales to new collectors.

BS: I understand that you attended Princeton University. Did you study art there? What was the department like?

MS: I studied both Art History and Visual Arts (Studio Art). The Visual Arts Program at Princeton was small. Rosalind Krauss was the first head of the Visual Arts Program, and had instituted a policy that students would be provided with all necessary art supplies. Large studios , abundant art supplies, a few good teachers that usually left me alone, and being located 1 1/2 hour from New York seemed perfect to me.

BS: Mark, you've had solo and group exhibits at several outstanding venues. Based on your experience- which exhibit has made an impact on you?

MS: Seeing my work in a group show at the Metropolitan Museum in New York was pretty cool but I think almost every exhibit has had an impact on me. Seeing my work outside the studio in a new context helps me see the work in a different way and learn from it.

BS: Are you represented by a gallery? Do you have any upcoming exhibits?

MS: I have a solo exhibition opening in October in New York at my primary dealer for my paintings and drawings, Von Lintel Gallery. www.vonlintel.com. I first showed with Von Lintel Gallery when it was located in Munich, Germany. Von Lintel Gallery moved to New York several years ago when my previous New York gallery closed. My prints are represented by Pace Prints in New York. www.paceprints.com

There is also a group exhibition opening August 23 at the University of Richmond Museum in Richmond, Virginia that will travel to other museums.

BS: Mark, do you have any tips for emerging artists?

MS: Focus on making art. When you are really ready to show try to get a recommendation from other artists, critics, and collectors to an appropriate gallery. Galleries are besieged by artists walking in off the street or sending images, and in general do not respond well to "cold calls". I approached the first few galleries I worked with directly, and while I got lucky, I would not recommend that method to anyone.

BS: I understand that you are busy at this time getting ready for a show. Can you tell us more about that exhibit?

MS: I am working in the studio now on a solo show of paintings opening in October in New York at Von Lintel Gallery. All the paintings will be black and white abstract works made with oil, alkyd and graphite on linen. Since a catalog is being published, I am hoping to finish the paintings this summer.

BS: Finally, is there anything else you would like to say about your art?

MS: I prefer not to try to explain my work and let the viewer interpret it for themselves. While the paintings reference the look and space of photographic imagery, my work is not based on any particular photographs. A couple of years ago I finally got around to making a web site where you can see more examples of my work, and get information about upcoming exhibitions. www.marksheinkman.com.

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Mark Sheinkman and his art. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin