Art Space Talk: Zachary Scholz

I recently discovered the art of Zachary Scholz on myartspace.com. Mr. Scholz creates conceptual art that manipulates contingent objects- shifting their invisible boundaries. His aim is to unsettle the stability of these frameworks without completely destroying them. Zachary attended school at the California College of the Arts. He earned an MFA in 2006.

Brian Sherwin: Zachary, you attended the California College of the Arts where you obtained an MFA. Can you tell us about your old art department? Who were your mentors?

Zachary Scholz: Studying at CCA was a great experience, the program provided a unique flexibility between media that really enabled and fostered the diversity of my practice.

I entered the MFA program in Painting and Drawing with a portfolio focused generally somewhere between drawing and printmaking. By the end of the two years my practice had developed much of the more sculptural direction it has now. It was really great that, despite this shift, there was never a need for me to change departments. I could have, but I didn't need to because the program allowed me to work with such a wonderful diversity of makers and thinkers.

Beyond the broad faculty of the school, the program enabled me to draw on the San Francisco Bay Area's wealth of practicing artists and intellectuals, as well as various visiting lecturers to find the voices that I needed in my studio.

It was great to work with artist whose work shares some commonality with my own such as Anna von Mertens, Liam Gillick, Stepanie Suyjuco, and Maria Porges, but it was equally valuable working with makers whose work, at least physically, is dramatically different from my own, such as Larry Sultan, Lynn Kirby, Shaun O'Dell, and Roy Tomlinson. And it is this latter group which has curiously had the greater and more lasting effect on my practice. Additionally it was great to work with non making art professional such as Stephen Leiber.

BS: You have stated the following, "Asleep, I sometimes effortlessly return to an earlier part of my life, which except for in dream, I have forgotten. I am myself in these moments but never exactly the person I was. I return to these memories as I am now, colored by how I remember being then—the now-me poured into an ill-fitting younger container. Neither and nowhere, I grasp backward and inward in time—wearing my own face as a mask." Can you go into further detail about how your work is influenced by dreams?

ZS: My work is not dream based in any literal sense. I certainly don't make work based on my dreams. But the irrationally rational logic of dreaming is certain appealing to me. Also, the mechanics of dreaming --the recapitulation and recombination of inputs and experience in new, curious, and surprising resonant ways-- is a structural process that echoes in my process of working.

Rather than being influenced by dreams, I would say that my work is sympathetic to the process of dreaming and the instability of meaning, time, and material that it reveals.

BS: So would you say that exploring the subconscious is a major component of your work?

ZS: I wouldn't use the word subconscious which is too limited, and carries all sorts of Jungian and Freudian connotations opaqued by pop culture references. But, there is certainly something "sub" about what I am exploring; sub-present, sub-visible, sub-recognized sub-linguistic sub...

BS: Zachary, you have also stated that you, "digest and manipulate contingent objects shifting their invisible boundaries not to discover what they are, but to uncover that they are simultaneously everything and nothing.". Why did you decide for this to be a part of your artistic process?

ZS: I am drawn to these sorts of objects in part because of the way that their contingent nature overtly reveals a truth of all objects, which is that no object is an autonomous thing.

All objects have been shaped by other objects, formed by external systems, and produced to function in contextual situations. Rather than a static thing, each object is a shifting and negotiated space in perpetually flux.

BS: Can you go into further detail about your artistic philosophy?

ZS: Talking about an artistic philosophy is a tricky thing. If anything I think the most concrete philosophy that I have is a commitment to perpetually figure my philosophy out.

The situation I find my self in is one in which it isn't so much that art can be anything, but that anything can be art. The gap between such statements is as big as big and mapping it takes exactly as much time as it is given. The gap is as insurmountable as the distance between me and you and filling the space, with acts, objects, and images, shifts the boundaries as quickly as it fills it in.

Fundamentally I think art needs to seek the real. Not the known or the believed or the imagined, but the inexplicable realness of present existence. This 'real' is a most mysterious thing, existing in the dark space between what has past, which we can recognize, and what is ahead, which we can anticipate.

I don't want to show you my 'real' but make you find your own. I have little interest in teaching anybody what I know. I want people to discover what they know, and find it lacking.

BS: What about studio habits, ritual, or whatever you wish to call it? How do you start and finish a studio session? What inspires you while you work?

ZS: I find it helpful to treat working in the studio really as the job that it is. Ideally I like to do a 9-5 40h work week. I think showing up is a lot of it; making and making and making and making and somewhere in there art slips in.

At the same time, when I am working in the studio I try to stay fresh and really open and playful. I try to avoid doing things that I know and instead seek acts and actions too simple to have been noticed or named. I find that such unexpectedly obvious tactics tend to evade the traps which seem always to steer toward the same boring, unsatisfying, and stale ends. I believe that it requires being quite silly and humble to say something interesting.

As I am interacting with material I need to stay pretty alert and very present, so I hardly ever listen to music. I mostly let the material and my hands lead and keep my eyes out for interesting turns. This is not to say that I do not plan. It is important to be able to plan something, do it, and have the thing do what you planned it to do, but the discipline of this skill does not in and of itself make good work.

BS: Your conceptual art often deals with objects such as chairs. Do you ever feel limited by the objects you choose to use in your art? Or is your goal to push an object as far as it will go as far as having meaning is concerned? In other words, is your work about the challenge of using these objects that normally would not be consider a medium of choice?

ZS: I don't feel limited by the objects that I work with. My interactions with these objects, are not about investigating them in a rigidly material and analytic way to discover the boundaries and the limits of their meaning. My interventions instead aim to unsettle the stability of these frameworks without completely destroying them.

I am interested in making objects exist as neither what they were, nor entirely as something else, and in this states' inherent duplicity and shifting puniness. The perpetual flux of this state reveals the shifting uncertainty beneath all seemingly static meaning.

It can and has been argued that revealing this instability, this nothingness underlying presence, produces the kind of morbid desperation that fuels nihilism, but I think that there is great potential and agency in this space.

Rather than drowning ourselves in the inevitability that everything is nothing, we can buoy ourselves with the possibility that everything can be anything.

BS: Finally, what is next? What are your plans for the future... are you working on any projects at this time?

ZS: My plan for the future is to continue to work with the different threads of my practice and see where they lead. My work in upholstery foam, and with furniture continues, as does a more drawing and paper based practice.

I also have new projects brewing, some video work, some site specific interactions, some writing projects, and some curatorial activities. In addition, I am pursuing teaching opportunities and looking to more directly contribute to growing my local arts community.

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Zachary and his artistic practice. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space Talk: Leah Pecoraro

I discovered emerging artist Leah Pecoraro on myartspace.com. Leah's work is based on psychology and the millions of thoughts that occur in the human mind on a daily basis. She does this by utilizing a unique juxtaposition of themes that reside between life and death.

Brian Sherwin: Leah, your art has a very rustic... almost decayed quality about it. At the same time it has a shamanistic nature about it.... spiritual... as in the essence of life. Is this juxtaposition of death and life intentional?

Leah Pecoraro: Yes it is intentional… we are decay, we create it, we (physically) start decaying in our twenties, and life is able to continue because of decay. Aesthetically I see decay as being beautiful, it is just as much a part of life as death is, it’s the space in the extended middle, and I think it gets overlooked more than the ‘beginning’ and the ‘end’.

My work is based on psychology; each piece represents one main thought with instinctual sub thoughts stemming from it. There are millions of thoughts that occur daily in the human mind.

It may look as though I concentrate on the juxtaposition of life and death, I use many symbols that could be classified as a representation for death (namely skeletal structures), this is just my language. To me the skeleton symbolizes the core, the mind, it is the basic support for our bodies.

Most people think that when they are looking at my art they are seeing an obsession with death, or a morbid way of thinking, it is quite the contrary, These pieces are celebrating life and examining thought. Once you understand the language you’ll see my creations much more differently.

BS: So your work is more about life than death... is it common for observers of your work to comprehend upon first viewing your work? Or do you think the fact that society has an underlining fascination with death that people are blinded from the message you are trying to convey? In that sense, would you say that your work offers social commentary on this morbid lust, so to speak?

LP: It’s really not intentional if it does. That’s one of those "each person ‘ought’ to be seeing something different when they look at a piece" sort of things. Unfortunately we’re in a culture that is over-saturated with the ideal that dodging death and trying to remain everlasting is an important priority… very vain.

Death’s just as much a part of it all, I don’t claim to know what transpires after one is deceased and I’m not interested in agonizing over it either, I’m too busy living.

People tend to just look at the exterior of everything, it’s safe, it’s easy, and it uses a lot less mental energy/strain then being analytical. Having said that, yes most people look at my work and find it overly dark and threatening. Which I find to be most unfortunate, instead of asking questions they assume they see, experience, and fully understand the work without even trying.

One of my personal objectives as an artist is to try to make people think. Look at the puzzle I’ve created, now try to figure it out in your own way. I’m happy to discuss it, I’d rather try and make some one understand rather than callow assumptions form after viewing it.

BS: Some of your sculptures seem to be a twisted display of childhood toys. For example, 'A Grasping Mind' (image above) appears to be a very unfriendly Jack-in-the-box. Do you strive to do a sort of 'visual play' with childhood fears and anxiety within the context of your work?

LP: ’Visual-play’ yes, although fear and anxiety are not my intention, I could see how this would be implied. The purpose for visual-play is this, it’s relatable. There comes a time in everyone’s life when they analyze their childhood, try to figure out why they are the way they are, objects trigger thoughts/memory.

The structure aside, now lets get to the concepts, all of my sculptures are based on the subconscious. Think in terms of this, if you were to crack my head open and visual images and objects were to come out, this is the sort of thing you may see, Clutter, static, scattered thoughts, they initially stem from something and are leading to something.

The jack in the box piece takes an understandable form of a childlike toy, an element of surprise, and examines deeper passages of thought. The box is covered in quantum physics theories, each side represents an area of the brain (frontal, parietal, occipital, temporal), what this piece communicates is a linkage of humanity in unspeakable terms. It’s a suggestion that humanity is connected on an unseen and often unrecognized level.

BS: So would you say that your work reveals the lack of interpersonal skills that people often have? Does it reflect the inability of people to feel a sense of 'belonging' or a 'connection' with others? It would seem that people could feel this if only they could 'get past their minds', so to speak.

LP: Some pieces do offer that idea, yes. Yes, I do feel that people have lost themselves in that sense, who could blame us for such thinking? There are so many things pushing down on us in all angles, it’s easy to become a tangled mess of worry and stress. I fall into those traps all the time myself. Oddly enough when I’m creating I feel that something larger than myself comes through, I would never claim to know what it is, but I feel much more at ease and much less alone.

Everyone’s involved in his or her own struggle, each one is equally as difficult as the next, even if it doesn’t appear to be.
People put up their own blocks, it seems we try and push away what makes us happy out of obligation or fear of failure. We try to achieve what society tells us is worthwhile instead of achieving what is worthwhile to ourselves, we loose ourselves in this thinking… it’s a very tricky thing to battle with the mind and the heart. Everyone has their own perceptions to conquer.

BS: You are known for your dark humor. I assume that humor is also a major aspect of your creative process. What other influences do you have?

LP: I honestly don’t focus on humor as being a part of it, although I believe it is important, again relatable. I guess if anything I focus more on satire than blatant humor.

My main influence could be as small as a simple thought, the real inspiration comes from deconstructing that simple thought, dissecting it and seeing where it leads me. The mind is amazing, I love human interactions/reactions, it all varies so extensively. I never run out of paradoxes or curiosities, thusly I never run out of influences or inspiration. It’s hard to nail down any one thing as being influential.

BS: So based on your statement you could find a million influences from one person alone, correct? So as long as their are people, events, and so on... you will have constant inspiration. Do some people and events inspire you more than others? For example, which causes your creative juices to flow- the birth of a child or some major world event?

LP: There really isn’t one thing, it could be as small as an insect and as large as a catastrophe. I think human interaction inspires me quite a bit, I like seeing different reactions to situations, I try to put myself inside those perceptions and mentally see how I would react to something.

BS: Finally, what are you working on now? Can you reveal any aspects of your future projects?

LP: I’m working on a variety of different things. I’m always experimenting with new materials I don’t like to limit myself in the least bit. In the future I would like to construct large installations, I’m interested in action/reaction. I want to create kinetic installations that are set off by natural movement (the viewers movement). This requires a lot of space and time. I need more exposure before I can venture into this territory. We’ll see…

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Leah and her art. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space News: Video Art: Problems, Potential, and Future

(Collectors are not buying video art today, but the children of tomorrow will embrace the video art of the not-so-distant past.)

It is no secret that video art is one of the hottest mediums of our times. Perhaps the popularity of video art is due to the fact that it is a reflection of our technology-driven lives or maybe people relate to it because the pieces often demand the viewers attention. However, video art has many problems and a lot of potential regardless of the reasons it is enjoyed.

Attend any major art fair or biennial and you will observe that art involving technology is becoming very popular. However, popularity does not mean that the work is selling. The simple truth is that collectors are reluctant to buy video art. It has yet to earn that form of acceptance. This is the major problem facing video artists today- acceptance.

This Year's Art Basel had a plethora of plasma screens and art utilizing high technology. As always, the video work attracted crowds and was awarded praise by onlookers. However, on the secondary market, video art does not fair (no pun intended) so well- selling for far less than it would elsewhere. In other words, if video art does not sell at a major art fair it may stand little chance of selling at an art auction.

Another problem for video art is the very thing that attracts people to it. Unlike traditional art forms, which are still and silent, video art is often alive with noise and rapid visual movement- moving art that attacks the senses. The average collectors enjoys observing these works, but are not apt to purchase video art due to the fact that the piece will "Invade the environment of the collection", as one anonymous collector put it.

The strongest supporters of video art are primarily museums. This is partly due to the fact that they have more room to exhibit video installations. Another key factor is the fact that museums can purchase video art for their collections at a relatively cheap price compared to other forms of art- including photography, which for the longest time struggled in the art market.

For example, a museum can purchase video art by a famous artist for as much as three times less than what they would pay for a painting by the same artist. How long will those great buys last? Each new generation embraces technology more than the last. Remember, many people thought that television would never 'take off'.

Video art has the potential to 'take off' as well- with each new generation that embraces it. I'm certain that future works of art that involve technology may struggle as video art has in recent years. However, the children of tomorrow will be far more accepting than the adults of today. That is something that the collectors of today must remember!

That is the biggest issue for video art, the fact that it can take decades for people to accept new forms of technology that are used in artistic creation. Take photography for example, people questioned the validity of photography as an art form for the longest time. There are still some people today who do not accept photography as art, but it is far more accepted than it was 50 years ago.

The torch of 'is it art' is now being passed to video artists and will continue to be passed to artists who further utilize technology for their artistic endeavors in the future. However, like photography, video art will be far more accepted by future generations. History tends to repeat... collectors need to acknowledge that now or regret it later.

The strong foundation that video art has today occurred during the 1960s and 1970s. Artists like Nam June Paik, Fred Forest, and Andy Warhol rooted the art form where others had failed. However, video art will continue to have an uphill battle for acceptance no matter what famous names are attached to it. That is a fact that collectors must consider, but I don't think it should hold them back from making a purchase.

Think of it as a 'ladder of acceptance'- one form of art involving technology takes the next step toward acceptance once a new form of art involving technology takes the very first step- that first step can have a very long fall! It may take a decade or two for video art to gain the level of respect that photography has at this time. Collectors will flock to purchase video art once that acceptance is gained.

A savvy collector would be wise to collect video art now while the prices are so cheap. I have a strong feeling that many collectors will have big regrets twenty years down the road for having not bought into that market today. Collectors should consider the purchase of video art as an investment in a form of art that has the potential to become a major influence in the art world in the near future.

Will video art replace the value of traditional art? I doubt it. However, it is obvious that future generations will embrace art that utilizes technology. Think about how photography is accepted today compared to 50 years ago. Think of the number of children today who know more about computers and other forms of technology compared to the knowledge of their parents. Think about how computer media has influenced the youth of our time. It only makes sense that their children will will fully accept high technology as well... even if it is in the form of art.

The children of tomorrow WILL embrace the video art of today.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space News: Fisk University Blocked From Selling O'Keeffe Painting

(1927 painting by Georgia O'Keeffe, 'Radiator Building -- Night, New York.')

A judge judge recently declared that Fisk University cannot sell any of the 101 works of art — some worth millions of dollars — donated by Georgia O'Keeffe in 1949. The university had planned to sell two of the 101 works of art in order to raise money for their financially drained endowment.

The ruling has caused a stir in both the academic community and certain circles of the art world. Is it wrong for schools to sell the donated art? Does this mean that people can't make a profit off of a work of art if it has been donated? What about art that has been donated to an institution by someone other than the artists who created it?

Davidson County Chancellor Ellen Hobbs Lyle ordered the Nashville university not to sell any of the works in the Alfred Stieglitz Collection. Chancellor Lyle noted that the works of art were donated to be used for art education.The problem with this is that most artwork is donated for that reason. Thus, schools may now be dead-locked when it comes to selling donated art in order to raise money for their endowments- which has long been a practice in the academic community.

Fisk University has been fighting a legal battle since 2005 over whether it could sell two works from the collection. The collection, which was compiled by O'Keefe's photographer husband, Alfred Stieglitz, includes works by Picasso, Renoir, Cezanne and Toulouse-Lautrec, as well as two O'Keeffes. The judge decided that "Dividing the Collection destroys the identity and effect of the charitable purpose since the collection was donated as a gift from O'Keeffe.

The Georgia O'Keeffe Museum in New Mexico, which represents the late painter's estate, has filed suit against the university. Museum representatives claim that the university has violated the terms of the late artist's bequest. It is assumed that the museum may try to obtain the collection due to this violation of terms. The case is set to go to trial on July 16.

I'm not suggesting that I agree with the moral decision of Fisk University in their attempt to sell the two paintings. However, morality really has nothing to do with this. Their decision was based on business savvy. Thus, they felt they were doing the right thing for their institution. This form of fund raising has went on for years in the academic community. Why are people upset now when so many other donated works of art have been sold before without question?

What do you think about all of this? Is it legal for a judge to tell someone (or an institution) what they are allowed to do with their donated art collections? Should the request of the artist matter once the art is in the possession of another person? Does this mean that art collectors or dealers who have donated art in their collections- which is common- can no longer make a profit on it?

What if the art is donated by someone other than the artists who created it- does that mean said art is 'dead' on the market even though the artist had nothing to do with it being donated? This issue is now a legal can of worms!

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

Art Space Talk: Catarina Lira Pereira

I recently discovered the art of Catarina Lira Pereira. Catarina was born in Bordeaux, France. In 1989 she moved to Portugal. She lives and works in Alcobaca, Portugal. Catarina's art is based on the generation of the 1980s- a generation raised by television. Her work is focused on remembering the not so distant past. She explores her generation with limited images that bring that peculiar atmosphere of a distant childhood back to her.

Catarina explores the chaotic simplicity of her generation by utilizing a surface of rich colours and details that are subsequently veiled by a monochromatic curtain of strips. In this overlapping- the suffocation and breach between three-dimensionality and two-dimensionality- the two genres melt into a dynamic and apparently chaotic composition. However, the images are supported by a rational disposition.

Catarina is represented by Galeria Alvarez (www.galeria-alvarez.com), Alejandra Von Hartz Gallery (www.alejandravonhartz.net), and White8 Galerie (www.white8.at).

Brian Sherwin: Catarina, you have stated that your art is a "representation of memory" and that your work is a balance between "revelation and concealment". Would you say that hidden messages conveyed to the viewer through your art is the foundation of your work?

Catarina Lira Pereira: For me, the foundation of my work is in the process. The fact that I work on the pictures of the cartoons is a way to re-live them in my life. After that I hide almost all of those pictures, to make a parallel with an attempt of visualization of memories, a game between revelation and concealment. The viewer observes an apparent abstraction, wish is the result of this game between revelation and concealment. The images are hidden for the mind to explore.

BS: So would you say that your work represents your need to find a form of inner peace based on the conflicts and contradictions of the generation you have been born into? A generation predominately raised by technology...

CLP: I concentrate my work in good memories due to my need to find inner peace. My generation was raised with an extensive list of cartoons on the TV, with strong messages of hope and friendship. Those images had remained in our hearts. I believe in some way that they had made of us what we are today.

BS: Your pieces have a very dynamic structure. At first glance they appear to have a rational, solid structure. However, further observation reveals an impression of chaos- like static on a television screen. Is this intentional?

CLP: The chaos/dynamic structure is due to the random lines that reveal some parts of the hidden image. That is what gives you this "impression of chaos - like static on a television screen". Actually, I never thought about it in that way, but it is an interesting observation because it is, visually, the same impression. The rational and solid structure is due to the horizontal/vertical monochromatic strips. Also, in some way by the rational structure of the image behind those strips.

BS: Catarina, you've been involved with several major exhibits of art- Arte Lisboa 2006 (booth Alvarez gallery), Art.fair (booth White8 galerie), and several art Biennials. Which exhibit has stood out for you? Care to share that experience?

CLP: I think the opportunity to exhibit in art fairs is interesting in particular, because with thousands of visitors (collectors, curators, gallerists) many things can happen and the visibility of our work is bigger. There is some exhibitions that had been important, but I am not sure there is one more important than all the others. I am now hopeful on two forthcoming: the next Cornice Art Fair, (with White8 Galerie from Austria), in Venice, which is going to happen at the same time as the Venice Biennial opening, and a group show of large formats at Alejandra Von Hartz Gallery in Miami, from June until August. That will be my first exhibition in the USA.

BS: Your work can be found in several Collections throughout Portugal. You live and work in Alcobaca, Portugal. How has living in Portugal influenced your art? Is there a difference in the art that is being created their compared to your homeland, France?

CLP: I lived in France until I was 12 years old. Beyond the fact that the the time influenced my current statement strongly, I think the technique, composition, my general perception is mainly due to my route in Portugal. I attended the college of Fine Arts at the University of Oporto, a great school, and I met a man there who is now my husband, artist too. In the middle of other facts, being with him influences my career, because we support each other. Compared to France, I am not sure there is differences on the kind of art that is made between the two countries, but there is probably a difference on the opportunities, because Portugal is a smaller country. However, Portugal has less competition, in regards to new graduates, so that probably gives more strength and hope to Portuguese artists to fight.

BS: Can you go into further detail about your artistic philosophy and the psychological aspects behind your work?

CLP: The nostalgia I feel for some of the images of my childhood is released by the opportunity to explore them in my work. Their final perception is due to a process to construct a impression of a frustrated attempt of utilizing visual memory. There is a parallel between three-dimensionality and two-dimensionality, figurative and abstract, the image and the monochromatic curtains which veil them, the past and the present, my perception and the perception of the viewer. My works is always some kind of mystery to the viewer.

BS: Based on what you have said I will assume that you have studied psychology. There seems to be a lot of Jungian thought behind your work. Has the field of psychology influenced these images?

CLP: In some way, yes. A desire to escape into fantasy, looking for hidden positive influences to construct a good harmony between conscientious and the unconscious.

BS: Catarina, what are you working on at this time?

CLP: I am preparing my solo show at Alvarez Galley, in Oporto, in November.

BS: Can you tell us about the art scene in your area?

CLP: It is not easy. The institutions of contemporary art don't support young painters and sculptors as I think they should. And even if we are represented on the internet there is now a lot of competition. There is a lot of great work online. There is also the general economic crisis which doesn't help either.

BS: Finally, in the end... what do you hope to accomplish with your art?

CLP: I want to have an international career, a strong route, working firmly step-by-step, until the end.

I hope that you have enjoyed learning about Catarina Lira Pereira and her art. Feel free to leave a comment.

Take care, Stay true,

Brian Sherwin

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