"Improbable Topographies" in Provincetown

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For the past six years I have directed the International Encaustic Conference in early June, now held in Provincetown. In addition to the three-day event, which drew 250 artists from around the world, there were a number of exhibitions at the galleries in town. I'll be posting about everything (eventually) on a Conference blog, but here I'd like to show you the exhibition I curated for the Rice Polak Gallery.

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The window at the Rice Polak Gallery offers a tiny overview of Improbable Topographies. If you look through the doorway, far right, you will see the scupture by Moriarty that opens our tour, which follows

Here: A closer view into the window, which features work by Nancy Natale, Christine Kyle, Laura Moriarty and myself

For the second year in a row, the Rice Polak Gallery hosted a concurrent exhibition. Last year Marla Rice and I co-curated Surface Attraction, in which we looked at the ways artists exploited the succulent slather, woozy drip, rich patina and translucent richness of their materials. This year she suggested I curate it myself. Thank you, Marla.

The show, which ran from May 30 to June 8, was called Improbable Topographies. Building on last year's concept, I wanted to dig deeper, physically and metaphorically. I selected the work of seven artists (six artists and myself*) who approach their work not only with a richness of surface but whose work, intentionally or not, exhibits a physical relationship to terrain. Because wax is worked in a molten state, it can be poured or cast as well as painted. Its cooled surface can be carved and shaped. My intent was to show eruption, flow, upheaval and erosion in ways that are evocative of geography and geology, if not actually plausible. These terrains are unlikely, yet not entirely unfamiliar.                                                    

Laura Moriarty: Stockpile,  2012, stack of 28 cast wax "bricks" each 3.5 x 5 x 2"

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Moriarty's work in its niche in the window, as well as another Moriarty on the pedestal and three carved paintings by me

Looking into the gallery, counterclockwise from bottom right: Moriarty, Mattera, Ruth Hiller, Nancy Natale.  Specific views coming

Above: Laura Moriarty, Cairn, 2012, seven stacked pieces, app 12 inches high

Below: Flattop, 2012, three pieces, approximately 10 inches high.  I stacked these sculptures per the artist's instructions. there is nothing holding them up except balance, and let me tell you that I held my breath the entire time the works were on exhibition

Laura Moriarty works three dimensionally. Inspired by elevation maps and geography books, she casts tectonic cross sections of what she imagines might exist below a depicted terrain. I imagine Moriarty a maker of mountains in a diminutive parallel world, forging a landscape with peaks that reach heavenward and valleys that plunge into the abyss, eons of geologic time buried within their mass. Do you suppose it's significant that Moriarty lives in the Hudson Valley with the Catskills in full view? I do. She recently published a monograph, Table of Contents, in which she takes a scholarly approach to her oeuvre, placing it into the context of science. You can see the connection to geology and land-based art

It was this work of Moriarty's which inspired my curatorial effort, and I selected work in its relation to hers.

Joanne Mattera: Vicolo 37, 2008, carved encaustic on panel, 18 x 18 inches

In my own work, I carve into the layered surface of each painting, creating formalist landscapes whose trenches reveal unexpected terrain. This is the most sculptural series I have done or expect to do, and while my intention is not landscape I am pleased by the geologic suggestion. The series began in 2007 and continues, most recently with the smaller work you see below.

Vicolo 64, 2012, carved encaustic on panel, 12 x 12 inches

Continuing around the gallery toward the corner, we come to two paintings by Ruth Hiller, with the Moriarty sculpture in the foreground

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Ruth Hiller manipulates scale, making the microscopic tangible.
Eerie-seductive orbs seem poised to burst from a custardy-smooth surface. I'll be honest: It took me a while to embrace this work, as the visual associations--to germs, to alien life forms--was strong. "I am continually interested in exploring the juxtaposition between what lies beneath, or out in space, and our perception of beauty and exquisiteness," the Boulder-based Hiller says of her work. Formally and technically the work eventually seduced me.

Ruth Hiller, above: (Symbol), 2011, encaustic 2 x 12 inches

Below: Capricorn, 2012, encaustic on panel, 24 x 12 inches

 

As we continue around the gallery, we pass the work by Hiller and Moriarty and come to  assemblages by Nancy Natale and two small sculptures by Christine Kyle. Specific views follow

Nancy Natale, above: Promised Land, 2010, mixed media with encaustic, 27 x 42 by 2 inches

Below: Thinking L.D., mixed media with encaustic, 48 x 60 x 2 inches

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Nancy Natale constructs geometric assemblages reflective of urban geography—book parts, tar paper, rubber, and strips of metal limned in wax, all held together with  the staccato rhythm of metal tacks. Perhaps because of its coloration or its title, Promised Land, is evocatiove of a more pastoral landscape. Natale describes these works as bricolage, or what she describes as "collage with muscle."

Christine Kyle: Cover Girl and Baroque, both 2008, encaustic on fired clay

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Christine Kyle builds up channeled surfaces in wax on fired-clay forms. The mounds call to mind hillocks or barrows; the elongated forms suggest creatures that might have emerged from the earth itself. They evoke in me a sense of the ancient. Without a reference to scale, these sculptures appear monumental yet when you see them in situ, they are actually quite small.

Corner view, with Kyle's Buttons, 2009, encaustic on fired clay, below

 

As we continue to move around the gallery, Kyle's elongated sculpture marks the spot between paintings by Willie Little

Willie Little evokes a topography with rust, oil and wax. While Little's spare compositions  are the least sculpturally topographical in the show, his surfaces are texturally rich. Oxidation and patination create a sensual crust of ironn and copper suggestive of mining and landscape.

Willie Little: Red Blue Rust Totem, 24 x 24 inches

Continuing around the gallery we return to face the entry. Larry Calkins' paintings are to the right of the doorway, just as Laura Moriarty's Stockpile is to the left

In pastoral fantasy mode, Larry Calkins creates landscapes whose surfaces have a palpable presence. Pears as large as watermelons bow the branches of a slender tree; a robed figure with two heads--one a crow, the other with a man's face and huge rabbit ears-- navigate an arboreal terrain. Considering the latter, I'd describe figure and ground as equal parts Tim Burton and Renaissance Siena.

Larry Calkins, above: Hometown, encaustic on panel, 12 x 12 inches

Below: A Perfect Union, encaustic on panel, 12 x 12 inches

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*About the curation:
This was very much an artist-curated show (unlike Textility, for instance, which required  a more stringent curatorial perspective and no curator inclusion). Crosscurrents abounded here: We were brought together by a common event, our work united by a common medium and a physically related concept. Moreover, I share gallery and exhibition relationships with these artists. I tell you this not so much in the vein of "full disclosure"--though I always try to be transparent on this blog (even if my tagline reads "journalistically suspect)--but as a peek into how this exhibition came about.

Moriarty and I have curated together and are currently showing together in Super Saturated, an exhibition curated by Kenise Barnes, which I wrote about here last week. Hiller and I are represented by the Conrad Wilde Gallery in Tucson and showed together in the gallery's room at Aqua Art in Miami this past December. Natale and I are represented by the Arden Gallery in Boston, and I have written about her work on this blog. Last year at the Encaustic Conference Kyle received my Director's Award, and I've followed her work enthusiastically since then. I own work by each of these artists.

Both Calkins and Little are represented by the Rice Polak Gallery. I have visited the gallery regularly for years and know Marla Rice from those visits. Seeing the work of Calkins and Little, as well as several others on her roster, emboldened me to approach her last year about working together. This was our second effort together. 

  

Facebook Synergy

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Life: Color decisions on a wall on Commercial Street in Provincetown

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A couple of weeks ago I was in Provincetown and snapped the photo above of a wall with color swatches. I love the cool delicacy of the colors against the lobster-red, or should I say lobstah-red of the chairs and sign. 

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As often happens, life and art intertwine. Agnes de Bethune responded by posting the picture you see below. She wrote: "I saw this at the Armory Show 2012 and was reminded of it by Joanne Mattera's recent post." Like.
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Art: Dineo Seshee Bopape at Armory Fair, 2012. Photo: Agnes de Bethune

Marketing Mondays: Own Your Space

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From OWS Posters

I saw this map on Facebook and shared it, commenting, "And most of the artists would be renting studio space on that red dot."

Henry Bogle responded:
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"They should do a map of New York City this way. Artists would end up in a gas station bathroom on Staten Island."

 I laughed. And then I cried.  So while I know I'll get some blowback here,  I'm going to say this anyway: Own your studio. I don't mean make it your own. I mean: Buy it. Possess it legally. Have it in your name.

Of course this is easier said than done, but but when you think about the money you plow into a studio over the years--especially in New York City, you're paying hundreds of thousands of dollars--you realize this is an undertaking worth considering. Do the math. Since I can only work in numbers by 10, these are probably modest figures:
. $1000 a month for a year: $12,000
. For 10 years: $120,000. Now factor in rent increases every couple of years and the figure could be closer to $150,000
. For 50 years: Considering that your original $1000 rent will probably have doubled somewhere along the line, you'll pay close to a million dollars in rent during your life as a working artist

Some thoughts:
. Buy in a borough  Yes, Henry, including Staten Island.
. Buy in New Jersey  Known colloquially as "West West Chelsea," cities like Hoboken, Jersey City, Union and Weehawken are reachable by the Path train or the ferry. Prices are high even there, so consider West New York, Bergen and other towns a bit farther north. West New York, for instance, is only a few miles from Midtown, though the Hudson divides it from Manhattan. If there were a bridge across the river at 60th street, West New York would be about 2500 W. 60th. Plus the views of the Manhattan skyline are spectacular. (Yes, the Port Authority sucks, but buses leave frequently and you're across the river at your bus stop in 10 or 15 minutes. )
. Buy up the river in the Hudson Valley, far enough to be away from the hot real-estate zones but close enough to be reachable by Amtrak. It doesn't have to be Woodstock. Kingston, for instance, has a great arts community. I notice that more and more artists--OK, mid-career and established artists--are relocating here, having paid their dues in SoHo or Chelsea. Dealers and curators, too.
. Buy in Philadelphia  A few years ago a friend bought a row house in West Philly for about $60,000. The modestly proportioned house, attached on both sides, has a parlor floor with living room and dining room, which are used as the painting studio, and a kitchen; the second floor's three bedrooms are used respectively for office, art storage and bedroom; the basement is for supply storage and canvas stretching. There's a closed-in front porch which serves as the living room, and a back yard, which becomes the summer living room. Oh, and there's parking right out front. Philadelphia is two hours from New York City and it has a lively arts scene of its own.
. Buy somewhere else and keep an apartment in Manhattan  That's what I did a few years ago when the rent on my Union Square studio was going up to $2000 a month After looking extensively in New Jersey, I surprised myself by making an offer on a building in Massachusetts, just north of Boston. I bought a  two-story former autobody shop for what I sold my 500-square-foot Chelsea apartment for. I now have a small place in Manhattan that serves me when I'm here, which is about half the month. Can you find other artists who have done the same thing who might share an apartment in town?
. Buy an apartment with an extra bedroom That's a classic strategy, but it will have to be one of the boroughs if you want that extra bedroom in New York City.
. Buy a small coop apartment and use it as a studio This is trickier, because you have to tell the coop board that you're going to live there, and nosy neighbors may wonder about the turpentine smell. One artist I know kept her apartment as a studio when her domestic arrangement changed (she moved into a new space with her new partner). The point is, be open to the possibility.
. Buy a multiple family house so that the second (or third) floors can provide rental income. But you'd better be handy, because ownership with tenants is a huge--let me say that again: huge--responsibility.
. Buy a small house with a garage Build a second floor studio; check the zoning first to make sure it's possible, or apply for a variance.
. Buy a space cooperatively with other artists  Across the river, towns like Union and West New York, New Jersey, once proudly proclaimed themselves "the embroidery capital of the U.S." There were many mom-and-pop businesses, but when the industry computerized and went offshore, Mom and Pop were stuck with small buildings they could no longer afford. I'm sorry for their loss, but these buildings are perfect for artists' studio space.
. . . . Know that artists and old mills are everywhere, so your cooperative venture could be in a location where the rents are cheaper, even if you wish to retain your relationship to New York City: Upstate New York, New Jersey, or Western Massachusetts, or farther east in places like Fall River or Lowell, Mass., or Pawtucket, Rhode Island. Don't enter into a cooperative relationship without an attorney and a contract that spells out very clearly what the terms of your cooperative ownership are.
. Know that commercial spaces will cost you three or four times as much in property taxes and utilities so proceed carefully. You can work from home (assuming you don't sell retail out of the space), but you usually can't live in a commercially zoned space.


How Will you finance it?
I'm neither a real estate agent nor a banker, so you need professional advice here. But consider that interest rates have never been lower, and that both interest and capital expenses are deductible. It's also much easier, and less costly, to buy something outside of New York City. (Another thought: If being in near New York City is not a requirement, you may find that studio rent is so cheap--like $300 a month for 500 square feet--I'm not kidding!--you may decide to continue renting your studio space and buy a home instead.)
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Midcareer artists: You are used to paying monthly rent, so you will be able to swing a mortgage. The trick is the down payment. I can't help you here except to remind you that you have spent a lifetime being resourceful. Keep your eye on the prize. Ask other artists how they did it, or how they're doing it.  Again, it's easier to do this outside of New York City, where down payments are not 20 percent. The good news: You are probably not saddled with huge college loans since you went to school when tuition was significantly lower.

Emerging artists: You are probably going to have the harder time. If I were you, I'd take the money for grad school and use it for a down payment. Getting married? Screw the big wedding. Serve pasta for dinner, and request money as a gift. Use it to put a down payment on a space. Do you have to live in New York City? Many dealers want their artists to live locally, but I work with a dealer here who represents an artist from Kansas City and just made a studio vist there. So it depends on the dealer. What's the point of being  a "New York artist" if you never get to be an artist in New York, i.e. juggling three part-time jobs with no benefits and then trying to unleash the creative flow in your studio while worrying about how you're going to pay your apartment rent, studio rent, framing costs or art shipper's bill. You could be doing that anywhere--a lot more easily and cheaply. Just make sure you have easy and regular access to what feeds you as an artist. 

None of what I'm saying is without hurdles, but consider that if you're going to pay rent, it might as well be a mortgage. Having equity means that if you move in ten years, you will not have flushed ten years of rent down the john but will have something to rent or sell, thereby funding your move to the next phase of your professional life. And as a landlord, you will be far kinder to yourself than anyone else would ever be. Ownership comes with headaches, overhead, roof leaks,  unexpected expenses, and the financial responsibility of a mortgage. But when you consider the long haul, it's an investment worth making.

 Please weigh in. As always, anonymous comments are fine as long as they add to the discussion. If you want to post nasty or negative, you need to assume responsibility and post under your own name.

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Super Saturated: Pigment and Pattern

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Installation view with Josette Urso, left, and Jackie Tileston, right, in foreground; David Collins in the distance

I'm hoping to get to see Super Saturated: Pigment and Pattern at the Schweinfurth Art Center in Auburn, New York later this summer. But just in case I don't, I'm posting a few pictures to tempt you to go if you are anywhere near Auburn, which is near Rochester, in the Finger Lakes region of the state. The show is up now through August 19. These photos are courtesy of the institution, sent to each exhibiting artist by the curator.

Super Saturated is curated by Kenise Barnes, director of the gallery that bears her name in Larchmont, New York. (Note: I'm also in a show there now, Rolling in the Deep, through July 19). Super Saturated includes gallery artists as well as others whose work fits the theme--a theme I might add, which is near and dear to my esthetic heart. Some are artists I've shown with in the past (Mary Judge, Michael Knutson, Laura Watt) or curated into shows of my own (Barbara Ellmann) or all of the above (Laura Moriarty), or that I'm thrilled to be showing with (that would be everyone here) but especially Gabe Brown and Jackie Tileston, whose saturation and pattern I always find retinally thrilling.

I'll post more later this summer if I get to view the exhibition myself, so here let me just show you a few views, with additional images taken from the PDF catalog of the show.

Josette Urso, Pineflow, 2011, paper collage on paper

David Collins,  What We Bring With Us, 2012, acrylic on linen 

Installation view with Collins and  Margaret Lanzetta on the

L-wall; Barbara Ellmann in the distance; and Tileston on the foreground wall

Margaret Lanzetta, Quartz Site, 2011, oil and acrylic on panel 

 Installation view with Laura Moriarty sculptures in foreground; Ellmann and Cristi Rinklin on the far walls; a glimpse of Stephen Grossmann paintings in the gallery to the right

Cristi Rinklin, Arcadia, 2009, oil on dibond

Laura Moriarty, Seafloor Spreading, 2012, encaustic on panel

 Installation view with Stephen Grossman, Joanne Mattera, Laura Watt, Mary Judge

  Joanne Mattera, Vicolo 42, 2008, encaustic on panel

Stephen Grossman, Luftmensch 2, 2012, acrylic on linen

Laura Watt, Clown Tears, 2011, oil on canvas

Mary Judge, Untitled (Red), 2011, powdered pigment on paper

Back to this installation again so that we can look into the wing on the left. Use Laura Moriarty's sculptures at left to orient you in the image below

Moriarty sculptures in foreground; Rinklin on left wall, Michael Knutson on the right; middle distance: Gabe Brown on left, Knutson on right 

 Michel Knutson, Bipolar Ovoid Coils, 2011, oil on canvas

Gabe Brown, Pink Moon, 2011, oil on canvas on panel

Ron Gorchov: Color and Form

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View from the entry: Noli Me Tangere, 2011, oil on linen

Now that I'm back from two weeks in Provincetown I'm going to spend some time looking back at what I saw in New York City in May. And I saw a lot.

We start with Ron Gorchov in a show curated by Phong Bui at Cheim & Read. It was the first solo at this gallery for the octogenerian painter, who has had a string of solos since 1960.

I wrote about Gorchov's previous solo, in 2008 at the Nicholas Robinson Gallery, so here let me say that the unique saddle shape he works with is here joined by two painted constructions that strike me as more sculpture than painting (the gallery press release calls them "stacked paintings"). These works embody varying degrees of image and structure; it's how they hold the wall and how you behold them.

The saddle-shaped paintings pull you in--typically with two biomorphic shapes on a thinly painted ground rich with rivulets and drips--yet keep you from getting too close frontally because of the way the saddle bows out. At the same time, the visible construction--staples holding the canvas, as well as the joints in the concave/convex stretcher--is quite intimate, so you feel a physical relationship with the work. This is especially so if you approach the work from the side, where you can get right next to it.

Let's go through the show. We'll start in the front gallery, enter the smaller back gallery on the right side of the dividing wall, and then exit on the left, returning to the main gallery with a panoramic view.

Standing in the center of the main gallery: Left, Chase Street Lounge, 2011; right, Tau Seti, 2012; visible in the back gallery, Adonis (Spring), 2012, all oil on linen

Below: Chase Street Lounge. To give you a sense of scale within the supersize proportions of the gallery, this painting is  43 x 36 x 9 inches
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In the back gallery: La Piva, 2012, and Adonis (Spring)

Adonis (Spring), 41.5 x 36 x 8.5 inches with detail below

Seeing the staples and construction is intimate, like knowing what lingerie your lover is wearing under her dress. I love that about the work.

With Adonis (Spring) out of view to your left, we're looking at Thersites (Chastened) and peeking back into the front gallery

A panoramic view of the front gallery with, from left, Tau Seti (side view below), Artemisia II on far wall, and Pegasi

 

Above: side view of Tau Seti

Below: Front view of Pegasi.

Looking back toward the gallery entrance

You can see additional installation images on the gallery website.

Marketing Mondays: What Pisses You Off?

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Actor/director/writer/artist Vincent Gallo. Image from Fanpix website
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“Vincent Gallo participated in this year's Whitney Biennial by not participating.

"Jay Sanders, one of the curators, explains: ‘I always had the thought that maybe it would be an absent presence. I felt even if he chose not to enact anything, it would still have some potency.’

"Ah, go fuck yourself. Both of you.”

This comment by artist Jeffrey Beebe on Facebook made me laugh out loud. Then it inspired today’s post. It's a short post because it depends on you to complete it.

What pisses you off about the art world? And what, if anything, do you (or can you) do about it?

Jay Sanders, independent curator, at the Whitney Biennial press conference. Photo: Artnet

           

Back in Action

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Window view of Improbable Topographies, at the Rice Polak Gallery in Provincetown, with a peek into the exhibition itself

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If you were wondering where I went, I was in Provincetown for almost two weeks directing the Sixth International Encaustic Conference, the place to be for artists who paint in encaustic or use wax in their work.  It was a huge event: three days of Conference, plus three days of workshops before and five days of workshops after. There were 16 exhibitions, 12 of them at the galleries in town (an additional two were at the Conference venue, and two were at Truro Center for the Arts at Castle Hill, which co-produces the event with me). Conferees filled every room of the Provincetown Inn, so we took advantage of our just-us status and held an in-house Hotel Fair, used the lobby for a book signing, and filled every function room with hourly talks and demos. I'll be posting about it on the Conference blog this week, if you're interested.

So I'm back in the blogging saddle. Marketing Mondays will continue, and over the summer I'll post a number of exhibitions that I photographed throughout May in New York--shows too good not to cover. (So they're over. So what?)  I'll also show you the Improbable Topographies show I curated in Provincetown. And since I'm spending the summer near the ocean in Massachusetts (let's see if I can get to the beach at least once) I expect to get into Boston to see what's going on there.

Marketing Mondays: One Question

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If you could ask a dealer, curator or critic one question, what would it be?

This is a short post from me today, but I hope many of you will respond so that I can create a researched post (or series of posts) later this summer. Posting anonymously is fine.