What is Art Worth, Part Two

One short answer to the questions I posed at the end of my last post is marketing.  This is a multi-faceted subject, with no easy solutions.  Frankly, the arts world, whether "high" art in museums and galleries or craft or functional art, has not done well in marketing itself to the general populace.  Huge corporations producing factory made items simply have it in terms of distribution, name recognition through advertising and ability to supply the masses.

Much needs to be done in our education system to encourage the creative arts, instead of cutting funding for the arts programs.  I do understand that a painting, drama performance or orchestra concert does not fulfill basic needs such as food and shelter, but the arts fulfill deeper things within us.

How to address the lack of arts appreciation is not easy, but there are many small things we can start doing.  Creating your craft where others can observe is one good way.  I just secured a copy of the book The Art Abandonment Project: Create and Share Random Acts of Art by Micheal deMeng and Andrea Matus deMeng (North Light Books, 2014), and I'm intrigued by the concept of occasionally giving away small pieces to encourage interest.  If you are really ambitious, see about offering interactive talks or demonstrations to your local schools and youth organizations.  I am planning on doing all of these ideas in the near future.  I will certainly share my adventures here in the months to come.

The "Ribbon Lady" at Cambridge, Ohio's annual Dickens Village public art installation.

One More on the Meaning of Abstract Art

I've been simmering about the disconnect between abstract art and ascribed meanings for a while now.  So, at work today, I was stunned to discover a wonderful new children's book on that very topic: Niko Draws a Feeling by Bob Raczka, illustrated by Simone Shin (Carolrhoda Books / Lerner Publishing, Minneapolis, MN, 2017).  The book is about a creative boy who makes many drawings of concepts, emotions and sounds, but no one sees in his drawings what he feels, until one day, he meets a girl who understands his drawings.

The tale still acknowledges a chasm between (collectively) Art and People.  I absolutely agree that no one has to like everything they see as a viewer and no artist will ever make a piece that everyone loves.  That is fine.  What I wish we would all work on is being more nurturing of creativity within ourselves, along with realizing that good art is a lot closer to our everyday lives than we realize, and that it does not have to be about anything.  My own fabric collages are a fine example of this; I do not ascribe any meaning to them, they are simply a product of my desire to make something and to have something lovely within my walls.

Image and design copyright 2017, RPS

Please do not copy or repost elsewhere

The Gap Between Art and the Viewer

I'm not intentionally trying to stir up trouble here, but this is something that needs to be addressed by the art world.  There is a huge gap between the fine art world and the general public.  I have never been comfortable with art that has to be explained to the viewer, but in many examples, there has to be some sort of explanation given for the artwork.  As I have experienced not only at the most recent Quilt National and in numerous art galleries and museums, I often still fail to see what I am supposed to see.  Especially with contemporary art.

What am I missing? Is it just me that has this problem?

Is this art or just a busted-up piano?

Yes, it is just a busted-up piano, but I like the shapes that the parts create, and it could be an interesting abstract composition in an art quilt (or some other media).  However, if I translate this image into my own art, should I try to assign more meaning to the finished work?  Would the average person catch that it is a reference to a line in a Tom Waits song*?  Probably not.

What are your criteria for "good" art?  Why do you make art?  Is art a valid form of communication?  Should it be a form of communication?  What would it take to get more people into art museums, and to local art fairs to buy art?

*If you are curious, the song is Cold, Cold Ground ("The piano is firewood, Times Square is a dream /
I find we'll lay down together in the cold cold ground").  Then there is the quandary of figuring out what the song means...

Art Journaling

I mentioned in my last post that I am enrolled in a three session class on art journaling.  So, just what is meant by art journaling?  As I am discovering from the class and from a small mountain of library books on the subject, it could be taken several ways.  Usually, an art journal is a personal journal that is illustrated with drawing and painting.  It could also be a journal about the art that you make, or a journal about the art museums and galleries that you visit, and I’m sure there are few other possible definitions.

                                               

I’ve attempted to keep journals of sorts for some years now, and I thought that this class would introduce me to a new skill.  As it turns out, I have already been art journaling to some degree.  My journal of life events is augmented with my own photographs, and sometimes drawings.  I have another journal of art quilt ideas and notes on the progress of my quilts.

Image copyright RPS.  Please do not copy or repost

Above is a journal page documenting the first fabric box I made for a guild challenge.  There are scraps of the hand dyed fabric I used, and one of the viewer's choice ballots that were cast for my box.  No, I did not win viewer's choice, but a few people noticed it!

Yet another journal is a record of the quilts I am making from the lessons in The Art Quilt Workbook by Jane Davila and * and A Fiber Artist’s Guide to Color and Design by Heather Thomas.  As I am still learning the ins and outs of sewing and art quilting, this journal is a way for me to record my mistakes and the things that I get right.  It is not easy to remember everything when you’re learning a new skill.

Image copyright RPS.  Please do not copy or repost

I also have the fabric book that I made from Fabric Embellishing: The Basics and Beyond by Chandler, Kettle, Thomas and Vleck.  Not only is this a sampler of techniques, I also added mentions here and there of events in my life as I made each page.

Image copyright RPS.  Please do not copy or repost

I guess I am ahead of the game a bit with this class, but I have already picked up more ideas to try, and I am really looking forward to the time with other creative people.

Scrapbooks and Ephemera, Part Three

Information on Cornell from: Joseph Cornell/Marcel Duchamp… In Resonance, Menil Foundation, Houston, TX, 1998.

Joseph Cornell (1903-1972), having no formal art training, could be considered an outsider artist.  He produced three dimensional mixed media collages that were encased in wooden boxes (usually glass fronted).  During his active years as an artist, he found success in the Dada and Surrealism movements beginning in the 1930s, and collaborated with Marcel Duchamp, among other elite art world associations.  I’ll admit to being strongly influenced not only by Cornell’s collage/assemblage artwork, but also by his vast collections of ephemera.  Check out some of his artwork here and here, and read on.

Cornell amassed quantities of images, printed matter and personal notes on numerous subjects of interest to him: 19^th century advertising, ballet dancers, movie stars, literature, music, etc.  He referred to his subject collections as "dossiers."  Some of this material ended up in his collages, much of it did not, languishing in his home until being preserved as the Joseph Cornell Study Center at the National Museum of American Art (Washington DC).

One of my own Cornell-inspired dossiers

These personal collections assembled by Cornell were generated out of his own interests, probably not with any intent of them becoming a research source.  Cornell kept his ephemera collections relatively organized, but they were not pasted into scrapbooks, as the material was intended for use in collages.  In a way, the excess material and the finished collages themselves were scrapbooks in a different physical form. 

I started amassing my own files of notes, clippings and images before I ever knew of Cornell, but after discovering his collecting methods, I of course kept going.  I keep a limit on things, as I want to have a presentable living area!  Some of the things for which I have my own “dossiers” include: vintage sewing machine advertising, rare horse breeds, Euclid Beach Park, Route 66, and yes, even Joseph Cornell.

Next Tuesday, I’ll connect the dots on how Langstroth and Cornell relate to being more creative.  My next post on Thursday will return to the purple collage.

Quilt National Catalog Binge

Thirteen Quilt National catalogs, and that's not all that are out there!  In my still ongoing study of the Quilt National catalogs, I have noticed an expected increase in the innovation and creativity expressed in the entries.  I realize that it is useless for me to really discuss the QN shows here, as I cannot illustrate my points with images from the shows.

One thing I will discuss is a bit of a revelation happening within myself.  I am realizing that there are a surprising number of quilts through the thirteen catalogs that I cannot explain why they should be considered good art.  Now wait, I am not questioning the jurors or artists, I am questioning myself.  What is it that four other people see that I am not seeing? (The four people being the artist and the jurors.)  This struggle of mine is not exclusive to the QN catalogs.  I'm having the same trouble with nearly all of the the artwork illustrated in two books by the same author/artist on becoming a more creative painter.  I have the same feelings about nearly all of the contemporary artwork that museums and galleries think is fabulous.

I am often missing what the artist explains in the statement for the particular piece in the QN catalogs.  It does not matter if I look at the quilt first, then read the statement, or vice versa.

As I said in the last post, we do not have to like everything, but why am I sour about so much?  How many of you out there consistently find yourself indifferent or worse towards the majority of works in an art quilt show?  I find much that I consider innovative and amazingly creative, but so few quilts that I want to look at for more than a minute or so.

Sometimes, it is incredibly difficult to sufficiently explain why we like or love something.  This will be something I will be paying attention to more, to the point of adding to my journal the things I see in artwork that rocks my world.

The Collecting - Creativity Conundrum

I am a collector of many things.  I've often wondered about a possible connection between the collecting mentality and creativity in people.  Is collecting linked to being more creative?  How many producing artists are collectors of... anything?  One could get a headache pondering this, but I'd love to investigate it someday. 

Off the top of my head, there are some art history heavyweights that were collectors: Joseph Cornell, Louise Nevelson, Claes Oldenburg, and Robert Rauschenberg had to have some quantity of cast off stuff for materials for their artwork.  In the case of Oldenburg, the objects were not used in his artwork, but were the inspiration for his large scale sculptures of everyday objects.  In Claes Oldenburg, An Anthology (Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, 1995), there are a couple photos of shelves in his studio, piled with all sorts of odd items.  I sometimes wonder how these artists acquired their collections.  Did they go to junk auctions like the ones I frequent?  Were they dumpster divers?  Did they claim whatever things people that they knew were discarding? 

What do you collect, either consciously or unconsciously?  Some collections grow without the collector realizing he or she is collecting.  One of the easiest and cheapest (make that free) collections would be the gathering of quotations.  I have a small sketchbook just for the purpose of recording quotes that I like.  Since I have much to do before the quilt show this weekend,  I will leave you with this until next time:

"Art is not to be awaited; it is to be chased down, cornered, and beaten into submission with a stick."
--Michael Perry, Population 485

Now, go make something!  Or start or add to a collection...

Ohio Annual - Zanesville Museum of Art

I promised this post late last week, now it is early this week.  It was a lot harder to write this than I thought it would be.   

I traveled last week to the Zanesville Museum of Art for the opening of their 72^nd Ohio Annual exhibition.  Ohio has a wealth of very, very good artists.  Only a scant few of them are in this show.  I wish that there were more people to support the arts in this state.  I’m baffled at the people who would fork out several hundred dollars to attend a sports game that lasts a couple of hours and they wouldn’t spend the same (or even less!) on a piece of artwork that they will have forever. 

The show was well-rounded, including a variety of media.  I especially liked the attention given to various types of printmaking.  There were only four fiber art entries: a basket sculpture, a small rug hooked piece, and two art quilts.  I really wish I could post images of the art quilts here, as they were (I thought) top-notch.  I’m always gleaning criteria by which to evaluate artwork, and one that I use often is if I want to keep coming back to look at a particular piece, does it hold my attention over time? (Something I picked up at the Quilt National Symposium in 2015.)  The two art quilts met this criteria for me. 

The first, Passages, by Sue Copeland Jones, was a symmetrical geometric composition in yellow-orange and blue-violet silks.  The base composition was overlaid with bold strokes of indecipherable writing, hand stitched to outline the writing.  It was a classic example of using complementary colors, and certainly grabbed the viewer’s attention.  It kept my attention, as I wanted to figure out the writing, and there was enough variety in shade and tone of the colors to keep the piece from being overly garish. 

The second art quilt was by Georgie Cline.  This was a fascinating assemblage of random odd shaped (rough-cut) neutral tone (grays and tans) mini quilts zig-zagged together, leaving some open spaces in the construction.  The overall appearance made me think of an old stone wall, and indeed, the title of the work was, Stone Wall!  One can create good art work with neutrals, here was proof!  A variety of fabrics were used, accented with hand stitching.  The fabrics appeared to be hand dyed, perhaps some by rust dyeing, others from plant dyes.  Great visual interest was achieved by color gradations in the fabrics, the shapes of the pieces, and texture from the fabrics and the rough edges of the small pieces… all things that I like and use in my own work.  This piece captivated me even more, and I could kill a good bit of time contemplating it, given the opportunity. 

I picked up another evaluation criteria at the opening: do you want to live with this piece of art in your home?  (Of course, disregarding the cost.)  This is very similar to the question I mentioned above, but both are very good things to think about, especially for those not versed in analyzing art.  Identify what you like and worry about the why later.

Why I make art quilts

I thought I’d ramble on a bit about why I make art quilts/textile art.  As I’ve mentioned in other posts, I have dabbled in other art media, somehow intrinsically knowing I wanted to make something, but not being happy with the materials until I forced myself to learn how to sew.  My mother has always sewn, making some of my clothes when I was a youngster.  I frequently tagged along to fabric shops with her, and I always appreciated the art and design in the print fabrics.  It wasn’t until I started seeing books and magazine articles about art quilts that I became inspired to learn the basics of sewing.  I wanted to make art quilts, not clothing, not drapes, not bed quilts. 

A little bit of my fabric stash

 

Fabric is easy to find, and in the realm of art materials, relatively inexpensive when compared to paint or the investment of equipment needed for ceramics, glass or metal work.  Yes, a sewing machine can be a big investment, but if you do like I did and find a nice vintage machine to get started, it is not that much out of most budgets. 

Sewing does not require a lot of space, even though most of us who sew have vast stashes of fabric, taking over significant portions of our homes.  In theory, one could get away with a boxful of fabric and notions, a portable sewing machine and an ironing board that is put away when not in use.  I don’t need a huge kiln to fire ceramics, no welding equipment or cumbersome power tools. 

Sewing does not make too much of a mess.  No paint spills or splatters, no long drying times.  Yes, I dye my own fabric, which is wet and messy, however, I dye outside and in only a few intense sessions a year.  Most sewing projects are easily interrupted, from five minutes to several years.  I don’t have to worry about a project drying out before I finish it.  They are not going to be ruined if I cannot finish them in a day.  If a piece doesn’t go together right the first time, I just rip out the stitches and try again.  I remember so many ceramic pieces that I put a lot of time on, only to have them crack in the kiln.  No good way to fix those. 

There are so many amazing ways to manipulate fabric, multiply that by the many different kinds of fabric (cotton, silk, wool…) and you have endless inspiration.  I am constantly astounded by the art quilts in the SAQA shows, there is always something new.  Fabric is incredibly versatile.  If I had to choose just one positive characteristic of my chosen medium, it would have to be versatility.  Finally, I fell into art quilting because I did not want to make things that had already been done. 

Art quilt labels, the end of the series

Labels, part three

One more go around with the labels, then I will move on to something else.  One of the opinions that arose in the SAQA list discussion was that art quilters (textile artists) should just follow the status quo of the established fine arts world, and just put your name and title on the piece, nothing more.  The more I think about that, the more I dislike it.  If I were buying a painting, new or old, I would like to know more about it than a name and title.  As an art quilter, this is one area where I don’t want to emulate the greater art world.   

I also feel that informative labels might help in our crusade to gain more acceptance in the greater art community.  What a great way to educate potential buyers who are unfamiliar with art quilting.  This is yet another way to be good ambassadors for our chosen form of expression.  When I see an art label with some background about the individual piece, it tells me that the artist really cares about it, and wants other people to care too.  Not that lack of a label means the artist doesn’t care, but I like it when I see someone go the extra distance. 

As I asked in my last post, what sort of legacy will you leave as an artist?  If you don’t want art collectors (or museums, galleries) to know about your work, why are you making things?  The information on your website is only going to last as long as you keep paying for the site hosting.  In what other venues do you have your biographical information as an artist?  I used to work in an art museum in a major Midwestern city that has an extensive archive on artists that either were born in that city, were educated there, or lived for more than one year there.  Someday, I should find out if similar artist archives exist elsewhere.

Art Labels, Part Two, the Sequel, the Next Day

Aside from the five art quilts on canvas that I discussed in my last post, I own only three other pieces from other art quilters.  None of the three pieces are what I would consider a “quilt.”  All are mixed media, one is a collage on mat board (I think), the other two are creations on stretched canvas.  Collage #1 has a neat computer printed paper label affixed to the back with the title, artist, date, artist’s address and phone number.  Collage #2 has a computer printed label with the title, media, artist, and date.  Collage #3 simply has the artist, city and state, artist’s email and title scrawled on the back in pencil. 

Does the information provided on a label convey anything of the artist’s thoughts about their work? 

Does the manner in which the information is placed on the art work say anything? 

I know I have a miniscule population sample to go on, but just the three pieces raise some interesting issues.  Not one of the three has a copyright insignia (you know, a letter “c” in a circle).  I don’t want to get deep into copyright here, which is another can o’ worms.  I will say this much; at a talk given a few years ago by a copyright lawyer, I learned that at the very least, an artist should put their name, date and the copyright symbol on their finished work to protect themselves (even if the is not formally registered).  Are artists giving up on copyright?  I know I need to learn how to watermark my images.  (No, it is not OK to repost images from this blog elsewhere, even if I haven’t done what I should do to them.) 

I was stunned over the piece that had the address and phone number on the back.  I know we all want to generate more sales, but there are now far better ways to have unknown individuals contact you.  Be careful, be safe, think about what information you are putting out there.  Yet at the same time, we want to be traceable, not just for sales here and now, but farther down the road.  Do you want future generations to appreciate your art work and know a little bit about you?  What legacy do you want to leave?  

I’m not going to divulge my answers to the above questions here, but I will put them into practice with my art work.  As someone with a bachelor’s degree in art history, I am intrigued by the future study of art work labels, not by me though.  This is a lot to ponder, and I have more than enough to think about.  Right now, I am trying to think spring, and I need to get back to a design of flowers that I hope to offer as a pattern soon.

Art Quilt Labels, Part One

Recently, there was a hot discussion on the SAQA group about artist’s statements and labels on art quilts.  I will be posting an expanded version of my two cents worth in that discussion over the next couple of weeks.  Here is part one. 

I would love to see labels taken more seriously.  A few other art quilters I have known put a lot into their quilt labels, printing them out (sometimes a full 8.5 x 11”) on fabric inkjet sheets.  These labels included the artist’s name, title of work, materials, care instructions, and the inspiration for the piece.  While I have doubts about the long term archival stability of fusibles and inkjet fabric printing, I love the idea of having all the pertinent information about an individual work permanently attached to it.  Paperwork gets lost or tossed too easily.  Indeed, fabric itself is not a material made for great longevity, but a properly cared for textile object should easily last to be passed down through several generations. 

I attend a lot of estate auctions, flea markets and antiques markets.  Once in a while, I find “orphan” artwork that may be signed, but is otherwise untraceable.  I also saw a fair share of mystery artwork while working in an art museum library.  Much of the art work was quality, yet we could not find any information on the artist.  If you are a textile artist, what are the chances of pieces that you have sold surviving the dispersal of the buyer’s estate?  I would think that with a permanent label with some story, etc., would give the executors an indication that this item might be important.  At least give them pause and save it from the trash.  Maybe, maybe not.  Without a name or only a name and nothing more, a piece of art work may not be given much thought.   

 

I found the five pieces above at a flea market last autumn.  They are each six inches square, mini art quilts mounted onto wood stretchers, as an oil or acrylic painting would be.  Three of them have a name and date on the back.  A quick online search turned up several different people of the same name, and no clues as to which one is the maker of these pieces.  My best guess is that these are beginner’s work, someone familiar with sewing, yet trying out some new techniques.  I love them, I think the group gives some insight in working in a series, playing with variations on a theme (here, circles).  I’d love to know the context behind the creation of this group.  Was the artist trying out art quilting on her own?  Were these done in a class?  Are these explorations of a theme started in a different media?  Despite the technique issues with these pieces, the artist still thought enough of them to finish them, binding them and making them ready-to-hang.  They certainly didn’t deserve to end up in a flea market selling for $2 for all of them.  I don’t think that any of us create what we create for something like that to happen.  Of course, a piece with an informative label still might end up in a similar fate, but I would think that the chances would be better for a “self-documented” piece. 

If you are wondering, of course I now own this group of little art quilts, and actually, there were six in the bunch.  I gave one of them to another art quilter who was very interested in the idea of putting a quilt on stretcher bars.  I have the other five hanging throughout my house.  I love the masses of large beads and whatnot on the two of them, reminds me of the gaudy yet alluring mixed media assemblage of Alfonso Ossorio.