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Friday, April 5, 2013
The Varnish Emporium: April Special Edition
Saturday, January 5, 2013
An Interview with Peter Schifrin: Artist, Poet, Olympian.
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| "Wings 1" (2012) Bronze |
Famously, when Picasso was asked, ‘How long did it take to make that drawing?’ he responded, ‘My whole life.’ It’s a tongue-in-cheek answer but it’s also true. It’s taken my whole life. I was blessed that both my mother and my father were artists so I guess I got nature and nurture. I was also encouraged by a wonderful high school art teacher/artist, Robert Chavern (A shout out to all those encouraging K-12 teachers) - He affirmed me as an artist and nominated me for a (Los Angeles) citywide prize, even though I felt very undeserving. He helped me, when I was struggling at centering clay on the wheel and gave me some sculpture pointers: How to model a nose and an eye. I was immediately hooked. I never looked back. I was probably 15 years old and I knew at that moment I would be a sculptor. But even as a small kid I loved papier-mâché - I made my own cartoony puppets - I just never thought of it as sculpting.
Your father was a painter and for over a decade you were a professional athlete--a fencer. What sort of impact did these formative life-experiences have on your work? Are there any other life-experiences that have informed the ideas you imbue in your sculptures?
Certainly, these experiences are formative, it transforms you spiritually. Also being a father myself, a husband, a teacher, a friend – it all goes into the delicious stew called art making. The artist, Maya Lin says what she loves about art is that ‘…one day you wake up and everything you have ever done and everything you’ve ever known - can enter into your art.’ I understand that.
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| "Wings 2" (2012) Bronze Edition of 8 |
My experience in athletics as an Olympian informed my practice of ritual, discipline, pursuit of excellence, risk-taking and personal expression. Athletes and artists have a lot in common, often not spoken of. We both perform acts that have never been done before. We study from masters. We invent new moves and we practice traditional craft. We use both passion and intuition. But most importantly, we all need to ‘show up - fully’ and perform. I love finding principles in many disciplines, be it, writing, acting, music or the visual arts, as well as athletics.
Having a father who was a professional artist, gave me permission to follow that path. I saw his strengths and weaknesses, as he struggled to support a family and stay true to making good work. Personally, I wanted to be more balanced. He was all consumed by art, at the sacrifice of his family on some levels. Art making is only a part of my life. It is a critical and essential part – but love, relationships, health and family is as important to me as making a sculpture. Can’t have one without the other. Practicing being human is an art in itself.
We all look back and are inspired by those who have preceded us. I’m interested in Egyptian and ancient arts – even to the visceral mark making of the cave painters – really any indigenous people throughout the world. I am in pursuit of one thing always: a vitality. The work must have a sense of aliveness. So, I allow the mark making and the process to show. I embrace my imperfection and am not interested in perfecting form – rather the opposite is true. I like ‘wabi-sabi’, the Japanese idea of ‘perfect-imperfection’. Flaws and asymmetry are exciting, visually and aesthetically, as it reveals our humanity, our realness, as we are all stunningly beautiful and flawed, at the same time.
I do love soft clay and how we can model it quickly and intuitively - and how it holds the most intimate gesture or fingerprint. I also love working wax and translating that into bronze. There is an alchemy, when loosely modeled clay is transformed into hardened, almost eternal bronze. It’s magic.
Having a father who was a professional artist, gave me permission to follow that path. I saw his strengths and weaknesses, as he struggled to support a family and stay true to making good work. Personally, I wanted to be more balanced. He was all consumed by art, at the sacrifice of his family on some levels. Art making is only a part of my life. It is a critical and essential part – but love, relationships, health and family is as important to me as making a sculpture. Can’t have one without the other. Practicing being human is an art in itself.
“Athletes and artists have a lot in common... We both perform acts that have never been done before. We study from masters. We invent new moves and we practice traditional craft. We use both passion and intuition. But most importantly, we all need to “show up” fully and perform.”What is your sculptural/creative process? You work primarily in metal, but also in clay (ceramic). Even when you work in metal, there is an feeling of the “hand built”. Does that influence hearken back to the art of Early Civilizations or... ?
We all look back and are inspired by those who have preceded us. I’m interested in Egyptian and ancient arts – even to the visceral mark making of the cave painters – really any indigenous people throughout the world. I am in pursuit of one thing always: a vitality. The work must have a sense of aliveness. So, I allow the mark making and the process to show. I embrace my imperfection and am not interested in perfecting form – rather the opposite is true. I like ‘wabi-sabi’, the Japanese idea of ‘perfect-imperfection’. Flaws and asymmetry are exciting, visually and aesthetically, as it reveals our humanity, our realness, as we are all stunningly beautiful and flawed, at the same time.
I do love soft clay and how we can model it quickly and intuitively - and how it holds the most intimate gesture or fingerprint. I also love working wax and translating that into bronze. There is an alchemy, when loosely modeled clay is transformed into hardened, almost eternal bronze. It’s magic.
The use symbols/symbology is extremely strong and prevalent in all of your work. Where does that stem from? You've mention creating a visual “tool” to help you in your fencing that transferred to life and now to your art...
Well it’s all symbols, isn’t it? I mean, visual artists live in the world of symbols. But the tool, ‘all that I know’, the series of 24 colored symbols or ‘life principles’ I created ‘to remember how to be’ – does permeate my artwork, because it permeates my life. As artists, we spend our lives trying to get what we believe, to be more closely aligned with what we create. Our beliefs can be imbued into what we make. As I’m so aware that life is brief and precious, I am concerned with what I leave behind. When my work is successful, I hope it can be a visual reminder or a celebration of human endeavor and spirit.
Specifically, I created the 24 ‘life principles’ while training for and competing in the 1984 Olympics. We athletes needed to perform under extreme pressure in extreme time constraints. But really, isn’t that just like all of our lives, everyday? Maybe we don’t call it the ‘Olympics’, but life is intense! And we all know that, under stress, even the most basic heartfelt wisdom can fly out the window. Right? So, I developed a tool designed to help me ‘remember’ what was important – Symbols based in color and simple form - Reminding me how to perform, how to live, despite the pressure. I quickly discovered that many of the same athletic concepts were true in art making and in life.
Here’s one example: One triad of my knowing contains the words ‘center, trust, risk’. Perhaps this seems obvious, but to really act from your spiritual or physical ‘center’, to remain balanced, especially when the shit is hitting the fan, is very tough. Few are able to do it consistently. It’s something great masters in all disciplines have worked on for centuries. To be yourself when all are trying to make you someone else – it’s hard. Then to ‘trust’ in your own knowing and your own wisdom - to trust in the (art) process -- to trust in your abilities, or in the universe - this can be tough, too. Finally, as artists, as humans, we must ‘risk’, we must jump and commit ourselves to action – That is the way, the only way to make anything worthwhile – or to see what we are capable of. We must risk failure. Failure is scary, especially for experts. We hate to fail, right? But it is essential for growth.
Anyway, that is one example of some of the lessons I experienced as an athlete that I translate into my art and life. I continue practicing these daily. The ‘Wings’ and ‘Silver Linings’ series has grown out of this practice.
Well it’s all symbols, isn’t it? I mean, visual artists live in the world of symbols. But the tool, ‘all that I know’, the series of 24 colored symbols or ‘life principles’ I created ‘to remember how to be’ – does permeate my artwork, because it permeates my life. As artists, we spend our lives trying to get what we believe, to be more closely aligned with what we create. Our beliefs can be imbued into what we make. As I’m so aware that life is brief and precious, I am concerned with what I leave behind. When my work is successful, I hope it can be a visual reminder or a celebration of human endeavor and spirit.
Specifically, I created the 24 ‘life principles’ while training for and competing in the 1984 Olympics. We athletes needed to perform under extreme pressure in extreme time constraints. But really, isn’t that just like all of our lives, everyday? Maybe we don’t call it the ‘Olympics’, but life is intense! And we all know that, under stress, even the most basic heartfelt wisdom can fly out the window. Right? So, I developed a tool designed to help me ‘remember’ what was important – Symbols based in color and simple form - Reminding me how to perform, how to live, despite the pressure. I quickly discovered that many of the same athletic concepts were true in art making and in life.
Here’s one example: One triad of my knowing contains the words ‘center, trust, risk’. Perhaps this seems obvious, but to really act from your spiritual or physical ‘center’, to remain balanced, especially when the shit is hitting the fan, is very tough. Few are able to do it consistently. It’s something great masters in all disciplines have worked on for centuries. To be yourself when all are trying to make you someone else – it’s hard. Then to ‘trust’ in your own knowing and your own wisdom - to trust in the (art) process -- to trust in your abilities, or in the universe - this can be tough, too. Finally, as artists, as humans, we must ‘risk’, we must jump and commit ourselves to action – That is the way, the only way to make anything worthwhile – or to see what we are capable of. We must risk failure. Failure is scary, especially for experts. We hate to fail, right? But it is essential for growth.
Anyway, that is one example of some of the lessons I experienced as an athlete that I translate into my art and life. I continue practicing these daily. The ‘Wings’ and ‘Silver Linings’ series has grown out of this practice.
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| "Group 3" (2012) Bronze |
Much of your artwork is done in series; the objects stand alone, but seem to be a part of a greater whole. Is it intentional?
Funny. Anything worth doing, is worth doing again, right? Artists repeat or experiment, not unlike scientists. All art is an experiment and artists try to get it right with a little tweak again and again. We practice our craft by repeating good ideas or methods and renewing them. Exploring them. Sometimes we get it right. Then we try again a little differently.
Additionally, in my studio, I work on several pieces at once. I’ve always liked a ‘family or a community’ of forms. If I am going to begin one new piece, I almost always begin three or six new ones. During my working process, they all speak to one anther visually. I often move from one work to the other. No one work can solve all the challenges you have, and so a series or body of work allows this exploration.
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| "Group 1" (2012) Bronze |
Your pieces are extremely layered. They have multiple components that coalesce to create a greater message. How important are these individual layers to you and how important is it that the complete message is revealed? (ie-visual, verbal, storywise)
Hmmm. I’m not sure how to answer that. Of course the layers have meaning and build to a greater whole. But we can never know if a viewer understands our meaning. In fact, I don’t think an artist can ever hope to have a viewer get what we are making. Once we put it out there, it is for the viewer to bring her eyes, her wit and her experience to it. None of the works have such a specific intention that a viewer could not bring her wisdom to the table. The work is open to interpretation, certainly.
Some works are actually quite simple. Yet there is always a story behind even the simplest of forms. Actually I think for the Varnish show the works will be pretty simple: Bronze Winged forms. These placed next to cloud imagery. And some text, that alludes to why it might all be there. But no secrets here. I will perform an original spoken word piece and create small books of poetic text and imagery – Those are layers of the experience. Each mode of art gives diverse experience, thus diverse meanings.
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| "Every Day, Every Drop" (2012) Digital Print on Paper Edition of 50 |
Language is a HUGE component of your work, often being incorporated into “coins” that are parts of sculptures (and poetry performance?) How do you incorporate the verbal into the visual? And how did you come by the moniker “Mudpoet?”
Well, yes. You are right. Language is important. Written word (and now spoken word evolving) has importance in my work: ‘Silver-lining Mother F*cker’ is the title of this Varnish show – and also the title of my spoken word piece I to be performed and it is the text of the small book I have created.
Words can give context for the work. They can pose questions or inspire wonder. They can define. Or confuse. Text can of course be problematic: It is not universal, like ‘visual form’ (sculpture) or music is. If you don’t speak English, that’s a problem with text in English. And text could bring the viewer into the analytical, instead of an emotional or sensory experience. But hopefully, I use it as a tool – and text is one layer to create multi-varied experience.
Many years ago I chose the name ‘mudpoet’ to describe my works – they were inspired by poetry, some included poetry, and I hoped the sculptures would be as enigmatic as a good poem might be - full of riddles and symbols. Now, as I also write and perform words, I see ‘mudpoet’ a good name for tme as I am engaged in the world of visual and verbal metaphor. As in metaphor, things are both what they seem and not what they seem.
You’ve spoken about engaging the viewer in your work in a way that is usually frowned upon in arts establishments; you want the viewer to touch the work, move it’s parts, etc. Why is the viewers’ physical engagement with your works important to you?
Well, yes. You are right. Language is important. Written word (and now spoken word evolving) has importance in my work: ‘Silver-lining Mother F*cker’ is the title of this Varnish show – and also the title of my spoken word piece I to be performed and it is the text of the small book I have created.
Words can give context for the work. They can pose questions or inspire wonder. They can define. Or confuse. Text can of course be problematic: It is not universal, like ‘visual form’ (sculpture) or music is. If you don’t speak English, that’s a problem with text in English. And text could bring the viewer into the analytical, instead of an emotional or sensory experience. But hopefully, I use it as a tool – and text is one layer to create multi-varied experience.
Many years ago I chose the name ‘mudpoet’ to describe my works – they were inspired by poetry, some included poetry, and I hoped the sculptures would be as enigmatic as a good poem might be - full of riddles and symbols. Now, as I also write and perform words, I see ‘mudpoet’ a good name for tme as I am engaged in the world of visual and verbal metaphor. As in metaphor, things are both what they seem and not what they seem.
“I hope (my work) can be a visual reminder... a celebration of human endeavor and spirit.”
You’ve spoken about engaging the viewer in your work in a way that is usually frowned upon in arts establishments; you want the viewer to touch the work, move it’s parts, etc. Why is the viewers’ physical engagement with your works important to you?
Well there are so many reasons to do this. Why are we making and showing the work -- For the viewer, right? At least that is one reason. It is very challenging to get a person to really stop and look at the work. So by allowing touching and interaction - this can be a playful way to entice someone to stick around longer than they might have, otherwise.
I chose bronze and steel as a material that will withstand touch. Small books invite touch. Coins invite touch.
As a sculptor I am all about touch. Sculpture is tactile and physical, is it not? Please touch the art.
Your upcoming exhibit at Varnish will be taking over the entire gallery as an immersive experience. Can you talk about the different components, their individual ideas and how they work together as a whole?
Yes, I am hoping to create a unified sensory experience for the visitor. This will include sound, 3-D and 2-D form, and color. As well, a small book of text and visuals. And I will perform the night of the Opening. Jeepers, sounds fun!
Winged” free standing sculptures—What do they reference and/or symbolize?
If I had to give priority, I am most excited about the new ‘Wings’ bronzes. These are 42” bronzes, three different forms (Wings 1, Wings 2, Wings 3) in a limited edition. Forms inspired by human endeavor. Maybe they are like inner super heroes. Varnish will unveil these works for the first time. I sculpted them during this recent Summer Olympics and was really thinking about human spiritual flight – as a metaphor, of course.
Additionally there will be some smaller bronze works with Wings, 12”-14” scale – which inspired the larger forms.
Etched Magnesium Plates
When creating the ‘Wings’ pieces, I was wondering where they should go -- and realized they needed to be surrounded by sky. Simple. I have a friend who dubbed me the ‘Silver-lining Mother F*cker’ because I tend to see the best, in bad situations. The Wings needed to be among those images of silver-lined clouds. I am etching metal plates with unique cloud images and simple text - to go on the wall. Should be cool.
Spoken word/Poetry
The ‘intention’ of why we make a work is essential. For me sound can create a mood and allude to deeper meanings or experience. As I am the author of the sculpture, I also am the author of the spoken word. It is important to me to share with my audience in spoken word. Again this raw imperfect quality of my forms is conveyed in the raw and personal performance and the writing of the poetry. It does go hand in hand. The words grow directly from my intention in the making of the forms and its imagery.
This exhibit is the first stop on a tour. Will you tell us about this tour, where it’s going and the significance of where it will be exhibited?
From Varnish Gallery SF, this work will travel to the Art of the Olympians Museum and Gallery in Fort Meyers, Florida for their third anniversary exhibit. Then three large bronzes, Wings, editions from this series have been commissioned for a private home in Martha’s Vineyard, MA. I am hopeful to have an exhibit of these works in New York City, on the way to Massachusetts.
*All works in this post are Copyright Peter Schifrin
I chose bronze and steel as a material that will withstand touch. Small books invite touch. Coins invite touch.
As a sculptor I am all about touch. Sculpture is tactile and physical, is it not? Please touch the art.
Your upcoming exhibit at Varnish will be taking over the entire gallery as an immersive experience. Can you talk about the different components, their individual ideas and how they work together as a whole?
Yes, I am hoping to create a unified sensory experience for the visitor. This will include sound, 3-D and 2-D form, and color. As well, a small book of text and visuals. And I will perform the night of the Opening. Jeepers, sounds fun!
Winged” free standing sculptures—What do they reference and/or symbolize?
If I had to give priority, I am most excited about the new ‘Wings’ bronzes. These are 42” bronzes, three different forms (Wings 1, Wings 2, Wings 3) in a limited edition. Forms inspired by human endeavor. Maybe they are like inner super heroes. Varnish will unveil these works for the first time. I sculpted them during this recent Summer Olympics and was really thinking about human spiritual flight – as a metaphor, of course.
Additionally there will be some smaller bronze works with Wings, 12”-14” scale – which inspired the larger forms.
Etched Magnesium Plates
When creating the ‘Wings’ pieces, I was wondering where they should go -- and realized they needed to be surrounded by sky. Simple. I have a friend who dubbed me the ‘Silver-lining Mother F*cker’ because I tend to see the best, in bad situations. The Wings needed to be among those images of silver-lined clouds. I am etching metal plates with unique cloud images and simple text - to go on the wall. Should be cool.
Spoken word/Poetry
The ‘intention’ of why we make a work is essential. For me sound can create a mood and allude to deeper meanings or experience. As I am the author of the sculpture, I also am the author of the spoken word. It is important to me to share with my audience in spoken word. Again this raw imperfect quality of my forms is conveyed in the raw and personal performance and the writing of the poetry. It does go hand in hand. The words grow directly from my intention in the making of the forms and its imagery.
This exhibit is the first stop on a tour. Will you tell us about this tour, where it’s going and the significance of where it will be exhibited?
From Varnish Gallery SF, this work will travel to the Art of the Olympians Museum and Gallery in Fort Meyers, Florida for their third anniversary exhibit. Then three large bronzes, Wings, editions from this series have been commissioned for a private home in Martha’s Vineyard, MA. I am hopeful to have an exhibit of these works in New York City, on the way to Massachusetts.
*All works in this post are Copyright Peter Schifrin
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Art of the Olympians (AOTO) Museum is an organization with members worldwide, all of whom who are Artist / Olympians. Our mission is to serve youth, to inspire them to discover the ‘artist / champion’ within themselves - through the Olympian principles of ‘mind, body and spirit’. AOTO is a nonprofit organization. We, AOTO, just held a group exhibition at the London Olympiad. http://www.artoftheolympians.org/home.html
Friday, November 9, 2012
KQED Review: Happy Endings with Isabel Samaras at Varnish Fine Art
By Ben Marks | Nov 14, 2012
Castaway (Howell), 2012.
In her new and recent paintings at Varnish Art Gallery in San Francisco, on view through December 22, 2012, pop surrealist Isabel Samaras continues to employ the aesthetics and techniques of Old Master and neoclassical painters to re-imagine the story lines of 1960s TV shows and movies. At first blush, this seems like a lot of trouble to go to. After all, do we really care about the psychological trauma of Thurston Howell, III ofGilligan's Island? And so what if Jeannie and Samantha of I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched are depicted as secret lovers. Are such frivolous fictional characters worth all the attention Samaras so obsessively lavishes upon them?
Perhaps not, but Samaras' keen eye and intelligent sense of humor elevate these pop-culture icons to almost Madonna-like (as in Jesus' mother, not the pop singer) status. And then there's the precision of her painting, which draws us in, literally, as we find ourselves edging ever closer to her often intimate pieces, lest we miss even their tiniest details.
When the Cat's Away, 2012.
Samaras' skill with a brush may impress us and entice the eye, but it's her facility as a storyteller and her sensitivity to cultural nuance that ultimately make her work so successful. For example, When the Cat's Away imagines TV sitcom sirens Barbara Eden and Elizabeth Montgomery lounging naked in Jeannie's famous bottle. Samantha puffs on a cigarette (the classic postcoital trope) as Jeannie thumbs the pages of what Samaras says in an interview is a 1960s Playboy. Though completely unclad, there is nothing especially provocative or even sexual about these two idealized gals. In fact, their sexuality is cleverly calibrated to its era, when the oxymoronic goal of wholesale displays of flesh was nothing more than tasteful raciness.
Cloud Nine, 2012.
A favorite what-could-have-been scenario for Samaras is to pair the Adam West version of Batman with the Julie Newmar incarnation of Catwoman. In Cloud Nine, the caped crusader sits upon a cloud in a heavenly aerie, gazing adoringly through his mask at his nemesis, whose only weapons are a push-up bra and high heels. As she has done with Frankenstein and his would-be bride, with Captain James T. Kirk and Mr. Spock, Samaras has created a parallel universe for her lovebirds so she might play cupid. Sure, she didn't have to depict the couple as if they were an undiscovered Easter egg hidden in some obscure corner of the Sistine Chapel, but I'm glad she did.
Castaway (Lovey), 2012.
These paintings can all be found in the "Today" section of the Varnish exhibition. Other new pieces include a quartet of modestly scaled henna-toned portraits of Ginger, Howell, Lovey and Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island, an even smaller painting of Wonder Woman (roughly 11-by-9 inches) and a substantial (42-by-42 inches) work called The Abduction of the Simian Women, which riffs on both Peter Paul Rubens and Planet of the Apes (in Samaras' version of Rubens' The Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus, the painting's action revolves around the human sympathizer Dr. Zira). In the middle is a collection of older pieces that have been produced as new prints on wood. And then in the back of the gallery is the "Yesterday" section, which includes a number of paintings dating back to 2006.
The Abduction of the Simian Women, 2012.
Of these, my favorite is easily The Bluebird of Happiness, from 2010. In it, a woman wearing a billowing blue dress is holding an open red fan, upon which is perched the aforementioned bluebird. At first we wonder why the woman's eyes appear slightly crossed, and why her controlled smile seems about to crack into an unabashed grin. Then we notice the soles of a man's shoes, heels up toes on the ground, as well as the outline of a man's shoulder blades and head rustling beneath the satin and silk, his face apparently buried deep in the woman's crotch. Now that's a happy ending.
The Bluebird of Happiness, 2010.
Isabel Samaras: Making a Better Yesterday Today is on view through December 22, 2012, at Varnish Fine Art in San Francisco. For more information, visit varnishfineart.com.
http://www.kqed.org/arts/visualarts/article.jsp?essid=110696
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
The CARTWHEEL Interview with Isabel Samaras
By Keith Dugas
Look, I know you, dear CARTWHEEL reader, I know you. You’re wicked smart, probably very attractive, you have an unquenchable thirst for art, and you most certainly already know who Isabel Samaras is. Still, new art fanatics are born every day and for them a little background may be in order. So kids, Isabel Samaras is among the upper echelon of seminal pop surrealists. Her satirical takes on 60′s/70′s television characters in classical art motifs have been seen in countless books on the topic. She has shown alongside the likes of Mark Ryden,Todd Schorr, Shag, and Robert Williams in galleries across the globe. She grew up on the east coast and attended Parsons in NYC, but her most revered art teacher was in high school (waddup, Mr. Anderson!). She announced herself on the lowbrow art scene, and pretty loudly, with a series of bitingly funny paintings on vintage lunchboxes and TV trays. Currently she paints large (and small) scale oils on panel from her secret lair near Berkeley, where she resides with her husband, illustrator Marcos Sorensen, and their son. The gravitas of her work seems to have grown exponentially with her skills, without ever losing its sense of humor. Every new batch of Samaras paintings are more captivating than the last, and let’s face it, that’s a rare feat. Her latest exhibit, “Making a Better Yesterday Today” will feature jaw-dropping new work alongside some of her greatest hits. The show opens November 3rd at Varnish Fine Art in San Francisco.
I’ve been corresponding with Isabel for a couple of years now. As a self-taught artist I often reach out and bug artists that I admire, emailing them various technical questions and the like. It doesn’t always work out. A lot of artists are just jerks. Every so often though, you’ll come across a few who are charming and incredibly helpful. Isabel is among the latter. I first interviewed her last December for my blog, but it’s a damn fine honor to have a more in-depth chat with her here for CARTWHEEL. She’s simply a pleasure to talk to.
Here’s how it went:
What’s a typical day in the life of Isabel Samaras like? Do you have a strict routine or do you wait for inspiration?
I was just joking the other day that I have a five minute commute but sometimes it takes me three hours. I wish I had a strict routine, I’m really envious of artists who treat their work like a 9-to-5 job, clock in and out at regular hours. I’d love to say: I clamber out of bed like a monkey on Red Bull, grab an apple and swing into the studio to hit the easel before the first light of dawn crests over the horizon! But that is a total lie. Every part of it except for the apple (I’m growing six kinds in the back yard, taking “an apple a day” to new heights). Truth is I’m a total night owl — the day often gets snarled up with the business end of things, paperwork and day-to-day stuff, so I tend to stay up very very late painting because those are the Golden Hours when the phone isn’t ringing, nobody is asking me for anything, it’s fabulously quiet, and time seems to go kind of honey liquid and stretch out without any boundaries. (This means I am pretty much non-functional in the mornings and look like something that shambled out of The Walking Dead.)
I do the apple a day thing too (fujis). What kinds are you growing?
I planted Fuji, Braeburn, Golden Delicious, Red Delicious, and something else I forget, but before you picture acres of rolling farmland I should confess that some of those are actually grafted onto one trunk! Coolest thing ever, like a magic apple tree. And this year they are so absurdly, ludicrously juicy and sweet they put store apples to shame. (For which I take no credit whatsoever — it’s California, baby! But when I get really stressed out or the fumes in the studio are too heady, a little garden time is always the cure.)
What new ideas or themes are you exploring in the Varnish show? What do you have in store for us?
Everyone keeps calling it a “return” because I’m working with 60s/70s pop culture again, but it felt very organic — basically all these ideas kind of tumbled out of my skull where I guess they’d been hiding, waiting for the right time. One in particular I’ve had kicking around in my head for nearly ten years but I never felt up to the task, and was like this little voice suddenly whispered: “Okay, now, try it now.” I have so much affection for all this, there’s so much joy in it for me. Plus it’s fun to tackle things I simply wasn’t capable of before, I didn’t have the skill set when I was painting the TV trays, or that scale just wasn’t right. Pretty vague, I know, but let’s see… there’s naked ladies with supernatural powers, and Apes from a certain planet, and castaways who thought they were going on a three hour tour, and a caped crusader finding bliss with a feline nemesis…
You’ve been working on this Varnish show for at least a year. Are you creating an entirely separate group of paintings for the La Luz De Jesus show in 2013?
Oh yeah, that’s the Far Off Distant Future at this point — I have a show in Rome between now and then, too! (No rest for the wicked.)
Recently, I saw your work had been “appropriated” by some street artists. Is that more infuriating than flattering for you?
I guess it’s a little of both. I mean obviously it’s great that someone liked an image I created enough to spend time stenciling it up onto a wall somewhere, but I don’t think I’m so well known that everyone who sees it is going to get that it’s my work — it wasn’t intended as an homage, know what I mean? And when that image gets a ton of publicity I kinda feel like a dork going “Um, yeah, that’s actually my art…” This image we’re talking about — Batman kissing Robin — it’s not like I own that idea, other artists have done it too and I love that because the world cannot have enough images of Batman kissing Robin in it. But maybe draw your own?Secrets of the Batcave, Part 2
I wanted to get your take on artists resale rights. In May, a judge struck down the California law allowing artists a 5% resale royalty. What are your thoughts on that?
In twenty years of selling art in California, only one gallery ever paid me the 5%. (Thank you, La Luz de Jesus, you rock.) Maybe it just didn’t come up much. It would be nice to think that collectors never re-sold my work because they loved it too much to ever part with it, but most artists I know have never even heard of this law — it was like a myth people would whisper about (“Hey did you hear? Once this artist actually got a tiny bit of their resale price!”). I doubt many of us will notice the difference; it might be more of an issue for higher end artists who’s work is sold at auction houses n’ wotnot. Most people would probably say “Well if your work increased in value and sells for a higher price when it’s resold then that’s good for you, the artist, whether you get a taste of that money or not.” But it was nice getting a taste of that resale money. Who doesn’t like finding a surprise check in the mail?
I want to get in a couple of technical questions. Do you make your oils from scratch?
Hells no! I did make my own acrylic paints back in the day (which I used on the lunch boxes and TV trays). I’ve always been obsessed with the color red and there was a great little shop in the East Village in NY that sold pure pigments — they had the same ground pigment that was used to paint Ferrari’s, literally “Ferrari Red”. That made me exceedingly happy. But I’m pretty pleased with what I can buy in a tube now, and I’m crazy finicky about color. (This quest for red perfection led to some interesting issues when I did my book “On Tender Hooks” with Chronicle — they took on the task of trying to reproduce my reds, which turned out to be quite a challenge and ended up necessitating an entirely new, additional color of ink being used as an overlay in the printing process to get the reds right! It’s so great that they cared enough to go that extra mile.)
Do you use a damar varnish?
Not anymore — Mark Ryden told me it would lead to alcoholism! (He said it yellows and cracks.) I talked to some people who do art conservation at both MOMA and SFMOMA as well as other artists, and everyone said the same exact thing: Soluvar. And so far so good. (My fingers are actually semi-glued together with it right now, which is making all this typing quite a challenge. Thank you, spell check.)The problem solving sock glove!
The sock glove is brilliant! How did that come about?
It sorta solved two problems for me — I have a really bad habit of resting my hand on my painting as I’m going along and “potato printing” wet little palm prints all over. (Cursing and hollering usually follows.) Somehow having my little sock mitts on makes me more aware of my hands and where I put them, plus I like to paint standing up and holding a rag is sort of a pain (only got the two hands, and you *really* don’t want a rag draping and swishing around over your wet painting). I can wipe my brushes on my sock-clad hands as I go, keep the bristles pointed, clean off bits of the wrong paint, etc. My friends give me their old socks, and also their styrofoam meat trays — I’m a vegetarian, but I love using them for paint palettes because they’re really lightweight. Sometimes I cut them up to make little “custom palettes” when I only need a couple colors for highlights and stuff, so I don’t have to hold a big unwieldy thing just to have a tiny dab of paint easily accessible. (At this point you should sort of be picturing my painting set-up like the art equivalent of those “one man bands” where they have twelve musical instruments strapped to them.)
Hair, hands, eyes? What’s the most challenging thing to paint?
For me, hands. I love painting all kinds of hair and fur and fabric — that’s the most fun part of any painting. Half the reason I’m so drawn to Baroque art is because they’ll just stick a bunch of red drapery in there for no apparent reason. (Like Caravaggio’s St. Jerome — wrinkled old naked man in a white sheet contemplating a skull, very somber and bleak … and then there’s miles and miles of incredibly luxurious cardinal red velvety fabric draped all over the place. Just ’cause.) I almost always paint the eyes before everything else so I have somebody to talk to while I’m working. (I wish I were kidding.) Once they’re looking at me it’s like there’s some “there” there. But hands — I love love love hands, they are a real test and they can be so beautiful and expressive. Paint them wrong and they look absolutely ridiculous, like uncooked calamari. I did a whole series of hand paintings once because I wanted to see how much personality I could capture, how much “story” I could tell, with just a hand. (Someday I’m going to do “A Show Of Hands.” That will be the beginning of my “titles that make you groan” series.)Redivivus (The Secret)
What’s your biggest pet-peeve about the art world?
Honestly? It kinda bugs me how galleries almost always want a fresh, new painting. If this were rock n’ roll everybody would wanna hear their most beloved song! I often wish I could just send my current favorite piece. Plus I have this theory that each painting just needs to get in front of the right person, its “match”, so they can make a love connection and go live happily ever after together. And that can’t happen if it’s sitting in a rack in my studio; the paintings need to get out there and do some speed dating, because it really works like that — right place, right time, right person walks in and *bam!*, cue the happy music. (Sometimes it’s not the first place that painting showed. Or even the second.) I’m super happy because for my show at Varnish we’re kind of riffing on the show title (“Making a Better Yesterday Today”) by including a room of “today” paintings, the new pieces, *and* a room of “yesterday”, a little curated selection of some of my favorite older pieces. That’s kind of my dream, lots of opportunities for people to have that “love at first sight” moment.
One of the many fun things about viewing your art is playing “name the historical reference”. Your “Birth of Ginger” being a classic example. This new piece with Samantha and Jeannie chilling, presumably post-coitus in the bottle…are you referencing another painting there?
Not a specific painting, no. For that piece I really wanted to capture the flavor of what “erotic” was at that time — it was saucy and coy, like Playboy of the early 60s as opposed to today — so that it would be in keeping with the era of the TV shows it’s referencing. (The magazine she’s holding has a Cutty Sark ad on it from an actual 60′s issue of Playboy, I’ve got boxes of’ em.) But it’s also a holla back to Orientalism — this period in art history when Europeans were hearing all these tantalizing stories about the mythic, exotic Middle East and things like harems which just set their imaginations on flaming overburn. Ingres, one of my all time favorite painters, did a bunch of “Can you believe it, all these gorgeous women just waiting at your beck and call?!?” paintings. And in a way I think the show “I Dream of Jeannie” was just like that, a “Can you believe it? A gorgeous genie, ready to grant his every wish!” Except of course in my version she’s not interested in *his* wish — she’s found another hot supernatural blond who could join her inside her bottle for some “while the cat’s away” playtime.
I know Ingres is a huge influence on you, and you keep some pretty heavyweight art company. Are there any new, emerging artists your particularly excited by?
You know my problem? I can’t ever remember anyone’s name. It’s really pathetic and I’ll blame it on all the varnish and solvents. I see stuff all the time that completely knocks my socks off, either because it’s so well done that the level of craft is mind boggling, or it’s just so damn clever and smart that I’m both admiring it and kinda jealous. It’s not just the varnish eating my brain: in 1981 they issued about 49,000 art degrees, but by 2009 it was up to 125,000. There are a *lot* of us now, and some of the art people are making is really fantastic, but I cannot remember the names to save my life.
Your son must be about 12 now. Does he seem interested in following his parent’s path?
I just asked him and he said “Not really, no. Seems like a neat thing to do but currently I’m interested in other things.” (Everybody’s gotta rebel against their parents.) He likes to do stenciled airbrush designs on t-shirts, but at the moment he’s obsessed with competition level yoyoing. I kinda miss when he was into magic because I was trying to get him to grift spare change from people at art openings to do tricks (and then make it disappear — gotta start that college fund).
If you could just go crazy and curate a dream exhibit from any works in history, which would you choose?
Wow. The stuff that I would love to see in person, the stuff that really blows me away, is all the crazy detailed super-tight work of the Dutch and Flemish masters, the Italian Renaissance, and then of course Ingres. But there’s a lot of terrific, very obscure stuff scattered all over Europe that you can only stumble on when you’re in museums or lucky enough to peep someone’s private collection — they’re not famous, they’re kinda like the “one hit wonders” of the old art world, so not only are there no books about them, you can’t even find them on the interwebs! I’d like to gather them up in one place for all of us to oggle at, because there is no other way you would ever even know they exist and some of them are incredible.
I’ve been going back and reading some old interviews with you. In a few, you mention the recurring theme of “unrequited love”? Does that still carry a particular resonance with you, and why? Are there examples of that in the new work?
I think it’s part of my “what if/why not” mindset, which I blame on a number of childhood influences (everything from science fiction books to the absurdity of TV shows where nobody ever seemed to clue into the potential love staring them right in their faces). It really tugs on my heartstrings any time someone can’t share or express their love — I think that’s why gay rights are so important to me, because to keep people from being able to share their lives is a crime against humanity. And to some degree I think that feeling is sort of universal, it’s why “Romeo and Juliet” is so powerful, because it hurts to see love denied. Honestly I don’t know exactly where it comes from, but I most definitely do have this sort of Cupid-like desire to right wrongs, and one day I realized I could use my paint brush like a love-arrow. (I’d like to point out that I do *not* try to do this in real life — the few times I tried to set friends up on dates it was a complete disaster!)
You continue to show quite a lot in Rome. What’s your favorite place to go when you’re there (art related or not)?
Can I cheat? My favorite place in Italy actually isn’t in Rome — it’s La Specola, a small natural history museum in Florence where they have an posivitely staggering collection of anatomical wax models from the 17th century. The best of these are life-sized beautiful women with real hair and pearl necklaces, reclining on silk cushions — with all their insides opened up and spilling out. These were teaching models, copied from real corpses, but they are incredible works of art as well and I’ve always been drawn to this period in history when art and science were holding hands and skipping along together. They also have a lot of taxidermy animals including a hippo and a somewhat wonky lion. You could spend days in there, and I swear that big mangy cat is the source of every weird lion that appears in Italian old master paintings (being the only one they had to look at). If I’m not allowed to cheat, the Capuchin crypt in Rome is spectacular. Underneath the Santa Maria della Immacolata Concezione church they’ve got the bones out thousands of monks all beautifully arranged in these intricate architectural patterns and designs, skull mosiacs and even “the Crypt of the Pelvises.” It sounds skin-crawlingly grisly but it’s stunning and the idea wasn’t to gross you out — the monks who did it (I think they started in the 1600s) wanted you to be reminded of your short life, “What we are, you will become” and all that. (Rome also has a “Museum of Purgatory”, which is really just a room in a church, but it’s full of artifacts that are supposed to show evidence of souls in purgatory trying to communicate with the living, like books that have hand prints burned into them.)Rome also has some supremely kick ass gelato and at the Colosseum you can have your picture taken being stabbed by gladiators!
Will you be attending Art Basel Miami this year?
Absolutely and I can’t wait, ART DISNEYLAND! Completely exhausting but all us hermity types get to see each other, so it’s a bit like the high school reunion you actually *want* to go to.
I saved the best for last. If someone wanted to win your affections through chocolate, what kind would do it?
The pure uncut cocaine of the chocolate world: organic extra dark. No wacky flavors or add-ins or toppings, just really, really good, really really dark chocolate.
Thanks Isabel!
By the way folks, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Isabel has one of the best artist blogs going. Seriously, check it out.
“Making a Better Yesterday Today” will run from Nov. 3 through Dec. 22, 2012
opening reception Saturday, November 3rd, 6pm – 9pm
Varnish Fine Art
16 Jessie Street, #C120
San Francisco, CA 94105
(415)433-4400
Tuesday – Saturday, 11am – 6pm
CARTWHEEL will be adding more photos of the new work after the show opens, so stay tuned.
In the meantime, wanna see her studio?
Isabel during battle.The easel, where the magic happens.Options are important!She’s got a thing for filberts.Daily affirmation.…because it can get lonely in the studio.The baroque pallete.Don’t be scared.Endless inspiration.The hero wall!The art studio must-have, a fully stocked bookshelf.
All photos courtesy of Isabel Samaras.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Peeling Back the Layers: An Interview with Chris Mars
Self-taught artist Chris Mars seeks to create a voice for the voiceless; to offer love to the unloved and mercy to the condemned and banished through his work. With his highly developed technical craft, Mars conceptually challenges preconceived judgment; be it one of beauty, hideousness or the nature of truth.
Prior to gaining critical acclaim as a painter, Mars became internationally known in the music world as the drummer for the Replacements. He has added to these accomplishments with growing admirers in the filmmaking world for his animation and live-action shorts. Mars’ oil paintings are in the permanent collections of many museum collections, and feature prominently in museum exhibits throughout North America. In 2011 a selection of his film shorts was screened at New York’s Museum of Modern Art and his paintings were exhibited at Halle St. Pierre, Paris, France, where he will be returning in 2013. Mars lives and works in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Chris graciously answered some questions for us about his work and process, revealing the complex layers of thought, craft and expression that go into his creative outpourings.
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Level 5 (2012) Oil on Panel 24 x 28""The collection at The Louvre is epic, but as an artist I was struck by the reality that so many pieces there were commissioned - created not exclusively in response to an artist’s vision or calling but rather in service to the elite, or the church. Level 5 demonstrates my elated relief upon entering The Pompidou, Paris’s museum of contemporary art. " |
- What is your fine art background/education?
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