Snow Day

"Yay!  There's no school!"

--my kids

"Crowscall" painting by Stephen Dinsmore

So...it's another snow day!!  I thought I would share a few of my favorite snow-paintings with you.  The kids are home from school, jumping all around on the furniture and quarreling with each other.  I told them I would be "nice" today if they just let me get this blog post published... and that's sort of working.  This winter, we have had so many snow days and two hour delays and early dismissals due to weather!  I'm forced to accept more chaos into my life; I'm just not in control of my days. 

"Snow Bank" oil on canvas, 11x14" by Kristen Peyton (my roommate from Italy!)

I subscribe to the Savvy Painter newsletter by Antrese Wood, and yesterday I read an old email with good advice.  Antrese explains that it's unhelpful to see our studio time as all-or-nothing.  She writes:

"Instead of thinking, 'I can't get anything done in an hour,' try thinking, 'What can I get done in the next 20-30 minutes?'...In the same way that small choices that take you away from your painting add up, the same is true for making small choices that bring you towards your painting.  It adds up.  Don't underestimate it."

"Winter Shadows" by Jennifer Irvine 30x30" oilpainting

In a way, losing my illusion of control is a good thing,  It makes me take myself less seriously.  It also encourages me to figure out ways to make art in a variety of circumstances.  Today this might mean some small, quick studies, or some time playing around with collage with gouache and paper. 

"Christmas Shadows" 30x24" by David Langevin

The kids actually like messing around with paint too, so it might be a win-win.  But, first I'm going to get them outside to burn off some energy playing in the snow!

Paysage by Nicolas de Staël, , 1952

Related reading: 

"Winter Musings" my blog post from a year ago, February.

"Studio Practice" my blog from last week, where I describe my ideal studio day (which doesn't always happen, as you can see!)

Studio Practice

"...it is the everyday-ness of the studio practice that yields work that has significance and a life that has meaning."

--Julie Langsam, from Living and Sustaining a Creative Life

This fall I read a book, Living and Sustaining a Creative Life, by Sharon Louden.  A friend I met in Italy, the artist Christina Renfer Vogel, recommended this book to me, and it was exactly what I needed to read!  Among other things, the book made me aware that most artists need a regular studio practice.  It's definitely something I need.  With regular, consistent studio time built into my life, I am better able to meet my other responsibilities and relationships with a graceful, loving presence.

Sometimes my "Studio time" is at home, if the kids are home sick or something.  It's challenging to do art when there are dirty dishes or laundry sitting around, but I make an effort.  I also have to watch out for naughty cats who want to jump on my paint palette!

My Routine

6 am yoga and meditation

7 am make breakfast for family

8:30 kids leave for school

9-10 get ready for the day:  get ready for the day, exercise (maybe a long walk)

10-3 Studio

3 pm cup of strong tea

3:30 kids come home.  chores and make dinner etc.

evening: family time

I also spend some time each evening practicing the piano and working on my novel.  I often do my website stuff and blogging in the evenings as well, or else I find time on the weekends. 

I'll be honest, not every day is like this.  Once in awhile I have to take a day off and stay home getting caught up on a bunch of important stuff like housework or finances that are out of control.  It's not a "perfect" system, and it's not carved in stone, but it's a dependable routine that suits me very well.  

Radishes oil on canvas 9x12"  (this is the painting my cat helped me with!)

I hope this was interesting or inspiring in some way!  Good luck to everyone in figuring out their own helpful routines, incorporating the things they value most into their daily lives.

I happen to find this sort of thing fascinating, so please share your own creative routine in the comments if you wish!

Interview with Allan Anderson

This interview with the artist Allan Anderson was contributed by Laura Vahlberg.  Laura is an artist from Alabama, whom I met last summer when I was painting in Italy.  Enjoy!

"Edisto" 9.5x13.5" oil on board

Interview with Allan Anderson

by Laura Vahlberg

I am honored that Allan Anderson agreed to this email interview and thank him greatly for being so generous with his time and attention, sharing thoughts about his art and process.

Allan Anderson is a landscape painter living in Columbia, SC. His work in the landscape was most recently shown at the 2017 National Juried Painting Exhibition at the University of Southern Mississippi, juried by painter Peter Van Dyck where he won Best in Show. He is also an art teacher at a local high school in Lexington, SC.

"View from the Carport at Night" 16x20" oil on panel

Laura Vahlberg: Hi Allan, Thanks for agreeing to this interview! So how did you get started with becoming a painter?

Allan Anderson: Hi Laura, Thanks for asking. I decided to become a painter after my first landscape class at the University of South Carolina. Before that, I had never painted. I always loved art and always drew but never thought I could do anything with it. I actually discovered painting while I was in the Art Education program at USC. It was during the landscape class that I decided to change my major. At first, I think it was the challenge of painting that attracted me. The more I painted, the more it became about something much bigger and I knew that it was something that I needed in my life. I was consumed by painting and made it a priority to learn as much as I could about it. Once I was committed, the rest was laid out for me and I had wonderful mentors to help me along the way. 

LV: I really like what you said about painting becoming about something much bigger. Can you tell me more about that? Also, can you tell me more about your mentors?

AA: 1st question: 

During my second year of painting I was very fortunate to get a scholarship to the International School of Painting, Drawing, and Sculpture in Monte Castello, Italy. I was immersed in the classical landscapes that were painted by the same master painters I had been studying. There is something special about the landscape in Italy. It teaches you to paint. It was there where I began seeing differently and thinking differently about nature and the landscape around me. As I painted and studied painting constantly, I developed a painter’s lens. I look at everything differently now. My brain is always finding connections of shapes and color. I am always painting in my mind throughout the day, even when I can’t find time to actually paint.

So I guess when I say painting became much bigger, I mean that it became an integral part of my life. It became something I needed. Painting represents peace and solidarity to me. It is hard to explain, but when I am painting, I feel a sense of happiness and wholeness, like everything is full and perfectly satisfied in my world. The things that make me most happy in life, such as my family, fuel my passion for painting. I always say that without those parts of my life I wouldn’t be able to paint at my highest level. Having that solidarity allows me to paint in a very natural way. It is a very sincere and profound experience.  

"Mountain Morning" 5x8" acrylic on paper

AA: 2nd question: 

As far as my mentors, I contribute much of my growth as a painter to Blake Morgan and Brian Rego. They both taught at the University of South Carolina during my undergraduate studies. I met Blake when I took his Intro to Painting course. At that time, I was taking a foundations course with Brian. I didn’t realize then that they would have such a large influence on me. Both are good friends of mine now and will laugh when they read this, but I think it is understood that if it weren’t for them, I most likely wouldn’t be painting.

Blake was the reason I started painting. He taught me the basics and encouraged me to keep going. He introduced me to many things, such as materials and processes, as well as painters to study. He introduced me to Stanley Lewis, who I still study often. That guy knows painting! Brian gave me my first easel. He had a lot of influence on me in the landscape and how I handle my paint application. I was very fortunate to spend a lot of one on one time just painting and having critiques with them. Looking back, it is pretty incredible how much time I was able to have with both of them. There were many sessions where we would set up right beside each other and paint the same subject. I did a lot of figure painting with Blake and landscape painting with Brian. As intimidating as it was to work directly beside them, it was very constructive to my growth. I feel like those sessions helped me develop faster.

There is so much more that can be said about what I learned from both of them and what I am still learning from them today. I have been painting for six years. As far as I’m concerned I am still a young painter. I don’t really know what I am doing half the time. I just know that I enjoy it. I try not to over think it and to paint as naturally as I possibly can. 

"Gray House in New Brookland" 11x19" oil on board

LV: Can you talk about your process? How do you go about making a picture? 

AA: I tend to paint ordinary places that I see often; typically somewhere I pass daily. You can find beauty in anything. When I said that I am always painting, I really am always looking at everything in relation to painting. I see good paintings everywhere. I don’t have much of a planning process anymore, but I look for places that are appealing to me. It usually involves the way the light affects something at a certain time of day, or the way objects line up with one another. I am very interested in the relationships between shapes in my paintings and how they share the space within the picture plane. Often times I paint in places that I pass daily on my commute. If I see it enough and think about it enough, I eventually stop for a closer look.

I can’t remember the last time I sketched or planned a painting beforehand. I used to draw things out first, but now I just go for it. I may use a viewfinder for a few minutes while I look at composition, but after that I begin blocking in color. This led me to using more paint, which brought up new discoveries and new obstacles. I have learned the value of a palette knife and the ability to scrape. I focus a lot of attention on paint application and mark making. I try to have at least two to three colors and various brush sizes going at one time so I can maintain sincerity to my edges. These things are important to me but in the end I honestly just do my best to paint what I see in front of me. The things I leave out or invent just sort of happen naturally.

Recently, I am trying out another approach. My studio has always been more of a place to store my paintings and materials than a place to paint. One of my many goals is to find ways to work in my studio more. I discovered digital painting around the time my son was born and I have been working from them in the studio. I think I got the idea from painter John Dubrow while I was browsing some of his posts. I started experimenting with it on my phone. At first it was an attempt to keep my painting needs met during such a hectic time but I quickly discovered the possibilities it allowed and moved to an iPad. I am still new to painting from them in the studio but I think it will serve as a useful tool while working on my larger paintings, especially those that involve figures. 

"Morning in the Park on C Avenue" 8x15" oil on board

LV: Do you use photo reference in your work? 

AA: I don’t use photographic references but I am not against it. It doesn’t work for what I want to do with my paintings. A lot of what I am attracted to involves natural light or the way something looks in its own space. That is why it has been a struggle for me to paint in the studio. Working from digital paintings is slightly different because it is still painting from observation with my iPad. With those, I have noticed more intensity in color to some degree because it is digital, but it is still more natural than a photograph. I believe skilled painters can use photographic references; I am just not there yet. Ideally, I would like to take photos of places when I travel and be able to paint them back home. I sometimes paint small studies when we travel and take many photos while I paint in plans of working in the studio. When I try to do so, I can never get the color that I want. So I guess the best answer is, I would if I could. I think that is why I talk so much about being in nature and painting in a way that feels most natural to me. I am most comfortable out there, and it just kind of happens for me. 

I would add that I believe it is fundamental to paint from life and direct observation if you ever plan to work from photographs. There are certain skills that can only be obtained when working from life and there is too much to understand about space and color that can't be found in a 2 dimensional photograph. 

"Old Mill Creek After the Flood" 5x7" gouache on paper

LV: You mentioned Stanley Lewis, do you ever piece canvases or paper together the way he does?

AA: I have. Piecing things together is always an option. My surface choice has a lot to do with it. For me, paper is much easier to piece together than anything else. I believe Stanley is able to piece things together effectively because he has refined such a personal approach to painting and how he treats the surface. Something so personal can only be developed through time. He also uses an abundant amount of paint. I would love to be that confident and vigorous with my application. I always think about working that way, but never do completely. Piecing things together for me works occasionally and is always an option that I keep in my back pocket. I’ve also cropped paintings down. The painting that placed in the Mississippi show was actually twice the size but I wasn’t happy with the right side. Sometimes you have to know when to let go. Ultimately you have to make decisions for the better of the painting. If adding or removing something will help the painting, I believe it is necessary.

LV: How do you respond to changing light and changing seasons while making a painting?

AA: Part of the thrill is chasing the light each session. Every time you set up to paint is different than the next. You have to be willing to paint over everything if the painting needs it. Painting over something you like is such a challenging lesson to grasp but is essential for learning to paint the landscape. You have to keep it fresh. A great aspect of painting from life in these situations is that things do change. When they do, you find new connections of shapes and color that may make for more intriguing compositions. The downfall of painting from life is when seasons change; you may have to put a painting away for a while. I believe this is beneficial in a way because it gives you a lot of time to look and reflect on what works in the painting. I do have one very large painting of my backyard that has been around for two years. It is late summer just before fall. I am excited to work on it again now that my son is walking. I plan to paint him in there this summer.

"View from Park in New Brookland" 12x16" oil on board

LV: How long do you typically spend on a painting?

AA: It varies. My one-shot paintings often work out better than my longer, thought-out paintings. One session is usually three hours. I work four hours if I am lucky. The light changes a great deal within four hours, especially during the times that I paint; usually the mornings or evenings. On average, my multiple- session paintings usually accumulate around thirty hours. I tend to slow down with lengthier paintings.

LV: Do you have any reading recommendations for the practicing painter?

AA: Absolutely! I have a ton but here are some that I always keep close by:

• Dunning, William V. Changing Images of Pictorial Space: a History of Spatial Illusion in Painting. Syracuse University Press, 2010.

• Hawthorne, Charles Webster. Hawthorne on Painting: from Students' Notes Collected by Mrs. Charles W. Hawthorne ; with an Introduction by Edwin Dickinson and an Appreciation by Hans Hofmann. Dover Publications, 1960.

• Loran, E. CeÌ Zanne's Composition: Analysis of His Form with Diagrams and Photographs of His Motifs. University of California Press, 1970.

• Pissarro, Camille, and John Rewald. Letters: to His Son Lucian, by Camille Pissarro. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1943.

Thank you so much for inviting me to do this interview! I always enjoy discussing painting.

"Red Roof in New Brookland" 19x14.5" oil on canvas

Further reading includes "Ten Tips on Painting," another guest blog post by Laura Vahlberg.

My Dad

A good day for making effortless artwork.

Easeful and light.

Doing, "not doing."

Allowing the flower to bloom all by itself.

--a note my dad left for me in my studio one day

a quick pencil sketch of my dad and my son cuddling on the couch

A few supportive words can make such a difference, especially words spoken by a loving parent.   I will give you an example from my own life.  Eleven years ago, I was at a holiday party with my dad and a lot of people I didn't know very well.  I was a brand-new mother, and I think I spent most of the party sitting in a chair in the corner, nursing my infant daughter.  But at one point I remember overhearing my dad's voice rise slightly above the conversations and the music, and I heard him saying proudly to someone:

"My daughter is a painter."

I never heard the rest of the conversation, but it didn't matter.  I couldn't believe it!!  Did he really think I was a painter?  Even though I was someone who made paintings, I never would have called myself a painter at that time.  And yet, in that moment, I began to entertain the idea.  Hearing him describe me that way filled my heart with gratitude.  I don't think I ever told him how  happy his words made me, but afterwards, I always kept that memory with me.  Anytime I needed to, I could close my eyes and hear them again.  Those five words have given me support whenever I felt like I needed external validation.

And I still can hear them, to this day.

another quick pencil sketch of my dad

Not everyone has a supportive dad, and I feel very lucky!  One of my favorite artists from the eighteenth century, Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, also had an encouraging dad.  Her dad, Louis Vigée, was a fan painter, and he was his daughter's first art teacher, as well as her staunch supporter.  When she was about seven or eight, she made a drawing of a man.  She wrote about his reaction:

"When my father saw it he went into transports of joy, exclaiming,

'You will be a painter, child, if ever there was one!'" 

Drawing, 36.4 x 24.2 cm. Pushkin Museum, Moscow This may be a self portrait by Vigée Le Brun. 

(See my blog post "Divine Passion" for more about Le Brun.)

So... thank you to all the dads in the world who are loving and supportive!

And thanks especially to my dad, who left me this note recently in my studio, which I discovered with delight!

Dear Lauren, 

A good day for making effortless artwork.  Easeful and light. 

Doing "not doing."  Allowing the flower to bloom all by itself.  

My dad and I, playing Scottish music on the electric bagpipes and pennywhistle.

Anne Truitt: Daybook

"One of the fascinations of being an artist is living in all the dimensions of life with an artist inside you.  An intractable and always mysterious companion..."   --Anne Truitt

I found this photo at annetruitt.org

I just read Daybook: the Journal of an Artist by Anne Truitt.  It was so amazing.  I underlined so many passages, a few of which I have retyped here in my blog post.  I hope this will inspire you to read the whole book!  (Some of the quotations may be from Turn, her second book.)

"My work is coming steadily along...I thrive in the repetitive routine."

This photo is from artcritical, an online magazine.  More beautiful photographs can be found in this blog post from the Joanne Mattera Art Blog:  Motherlode: Anne Truitt at Matthew Marks

"Artists who wish to set the light free; which is what I also wish to do, to make it visible for its own sake."

--on her experience at the "American Luminist" exhibit at the National Gallery in 1980

This photograph of Anne Truitt in front of one of her sculptures came from this fantastic Brain Picking's article:  Anne Truitt on Resisting the Label “Artist” and the Difference Between Doing Art and Being an Artist.  

"But the essential struggle is private and bears no relation to anyone else's.  It is of necessity a solitary and lonely endeavor to explore one's own sensibility, to discover how it works and to implement honestly its manifestations.  It is ultimately character that underwrites art.  The quality of art can only reflect the quality and range of a person's sensitivity, intellect, perception, and experience."

Rice-Paper Drawing [17], 1965, ink on Japanese rice paper, 12 1/4 x 9 in.   

(I found this image on the very-awesome-blog "Studio and Garden" by Altoon Sultan.)

"My sculptures live in my mind.  I can rebuff them only at some psychic peril too deep for articulation.  Also, I have a loyalty to my work that owes nothing to any opinion any other person might have of it.  I have faith in it, virtual trust."  -- (actually this is from Turn, the sequel to Daybook)

"The sun interpenetrates the earth; they have business with each other.  Air and I are somewhere in between." 

--also from Turn

Anne Truitt's Landfall, 1970, in Matthew Marks Gallery, picture from dayoutlast blog. Anne Truitt describes beautifully in her Daybook how this sculpture came to her, shamefully too long to place here.

"Love is fixed, instantly accessible to memory,

somehow stained into my body as color into cloth."

Truitt's work is now at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC.  "In the Tower" is up until April 1st, 2018.

New Years, New Days

"Every day is the same...wiping down yesterday's work and beginning again..."

--Scott Smith, artist

painting by Scott Smith (one of my favorite artists)

My friend Rachel gave me a book for Christmas: Art & Fear.  It's really good!  Here's a quotation:

"The hardest part of artmaking is living your life in such a way that your work gets done, over and over--and that means, among other things, finding a host of practices that are just plain useful.  A piece of art is the surface expression of a life lived within productive patterns."

So this is something I have been struggling with, trying to figure out what my productive patterns are, what works best for me (and my family as a whole.)  I have learned over the past few years that it's best for me work from 10 am-3 pm most weekdays, and then be totally present for my family when the kids get off the bus at 3:30.  It's ideal for me to have several days in a row: nice, steady blocks of time to allow for "art" to happen.  That's why I made this New Year's Resolution:

my New Year's Resolution:

Paint Four Hours a Day, Monday-Friday*

*or Five Hours a Day, four days a week, if one day gets compromised by Life

a page from Scott's notebook

Yesterday was my kids' first full day of school in weeks, and I thought I might finally be able to get into the studio.  However, after returning home from a long road trip on Monday, I realized there were just too many pressing household needs.  (For example, we needed food...)  Consequently... I've already failed my New Year's Resolution...

I was feeling bad about myself for failing on only the second day of 2018, but then I was scrolling around aimlessly on facebook (breaking yet another resolution to stop scrolling around aimlessly on facebook) and I read this encouraging message by Scott Smith:

"every day is the same...wiping down yesterday's work and beginning again, looking again....sometimes it's with hope, sometimes in anger, occasionally it's honest....new years, new days, all the same..."

Sketch-in-progress by Scott Smith 

Scott's simple words made me relax.  I realized I needed to stop taking myself so seriously.  The important thing is to just do the work with quiet humility and a certain amount of grace when encountering Life's inevitable chaos.  It's not about perfection, or achieving a whole bunch of goals, or even creating finished paintings.  It's just about living life, and doing the work.  So, here I come New Year!   Here I come, my beautiful Studio!  A new day has begun!

New Years, new days, all the same...

another sketch by Scott Smith

Thanks for reading my blog!  Happy New Year!  Happy New Day!

My New Year's Eve Fortune cookie! 

Agonia e Sogni

"Agonia e Sogni" is a cartoon about my anxieties and fantasies back in June when I was anticipating my trip to Italy.  As it happens, I actually do a lot of cartooning secretly, and I am a free-lance cartoonist, so you can look forward to more cartoons sneaking onto my blog in the New Year!  This is my last blog post of 2017; I'm taking the rest of December off to spend time with my family.  Happy Holidays!  See you in January.

Epilogue:  I did indeed make it to Italy and back again in one piece!  The airplane didn't crash, and I packed the right amount of hats.  And it wasn't just a fling: "chromium oxide green" and I  got pretty serious.  I think we are ready to take it to the next level...

You can read more here:

Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 1

Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 2

Let the horizon take you gently into the brightness..

"The only way I knew to love you, was to cut the cord and watch you float away."

--The Devil's Plea

Almost two weeks ago, on November 24, we had the opening reception of Graham Preston's art show, The Devil's Plea, which included a musical performance by John Beacher, who helped write the song with Graham: a ballad about the devil's fall retold as a sad tale of lost love. There was also a beautiful dance performance by John's sister, Ixeeya Beacher.  As I explained in a previous blog post, the artwork was an expansion of the song, inspired by it.  The paintings are not literal translations, but dreamlike allusions.  

These two paintings mirror each other.

Graham and John have been working on this project for a couple of years, and it was a real honor to be able to participate in this collaboration by providing a space for it to see fruition.  

Ixeeya dancing while John sings!  My studio turned into a forest-scene, the floor covered in fallen leaves...

Photo Credit: Lauralee Longname

At the end, there were several beautiful songs, and a poem.  The entire audio can be found here:

Graham describes it this way:  The project began as paintings of contemporary illuminations that operate almost as illustrations, telling a reinvented cultural myth of how Lucifer fell in love with Eve, that John Beacher and I developed through music. As time progressed, the imagery fell into the complexity of complete abstraction.

All of the paintings are for sale and are 14”x 17“ acrylic on paper, mounted on gilded, hand made panels by Graham. They are $425 each.  Here are images of the paintings (untitled):

This is one of a set of three abstracts, some of my favorites in the show.  

Here you can see these three paintings together.  (These must be purchased as a set of three.)  What you can't see on your screen is the gold leaf flecked over their surfaces, so come check them out in person!

Here are five more paintings that I included in my previous blog post, The Devil's Plea.  

Some Personal Reflexions

So, the whole thing was so intense, so emotional, and so exhausting yet wonderful.  Sitting in my studio-gallery for nine hours the next day, I became overwhelmed and I began to cry.  I couldn't understand why nobody had bought a painting; I felt so emotionally and physically invested in the whole thing.  But, in addition to feeling my emotions, I had a lot of time to think about why it's important to do art: to connect with people!  And I was amazed how a collaboration can produce something so much greater than the sum of its parts.  How we measure success is so strange, if we limit it to financial success.  As far as making connections with the community and tapping into the larger spirit of cosmic creativity, and making an event which brought all those amazing paintings and people together, it was a HUGE success!  

I wrote to Graham about my feelings, and he responded with his own personal thoughts, which I have found very helpful, so I'm sharing them with you:

I never in my life have made anything of value that revolved around selling it.  I feel that generally when we make real art, it's never received well in the way most people traditionally measure things... especially financially.  We live in a world where most people need something to be a popularized trend before they even consider trying it, none the less buy it.  They need to feel like it's legitimized by someone or something.  To sell those paintings we need real collectors who realize the philanthropic importance of supporting artists... and of those people, they also have to like the paintings and believe in the mission... all that doesn't really matter.  What we made was truly beautiful and it's just a a starting point!  We gave people an experience and a truly special one and that alone was worth every second of exhaustion and stress it took to pull it off.

Thanks for reading my blog and following my adventures as I try and figure out my place in the art world as an artist and "gallery" owner.  I'm new at this, so there will be a lot of heart-felt fumbling, but also excitement and joy.

Anyway, come see these pieces in person before the show comes down.  They really are amazing experienced in a group, it's like standing in a room of stained-glass windows!

Last day to see the show: Dec. 24th!  I'll be open weekends through Christmas Eve, Saturdays 10-3, Sundays 12-4

Lauren Kindle Studio

7B North Bank St., Easton, PA 18042

And by appointment: lauren@laurenkindle.com

Ixeeya, John, me, and Graham!

photo credit: Lauralee Longname

Kenneth Browne

“I’m constantly challenging myself with new and more complex things.”

-Kenneth Browne

This is my most recent Easton Irregular article.  Pick up the Christmas edition of the Easton Irregular downtown today!  I write the regular "Artist Profile" column, and I also publish my articles here on my blog for those of you who can't get a hard copy.  Enjoy!  For more about this: Published!  (Introducing Myself as a Writer)

Kenneth Browne is a painter living in Allentown, PA. His body of work includes portraits, narrative interior scenes, and, more recently, landscapes. The paintings are characterized by lush, thick brushwork and a generous application of paint. The surfaces of the paintings seem to delight in the physicality of the paint itself, the luxurious, glistening texture of the oil paint. Beneath repeated lighthearted images, such as candy, flowers, clouds, and theatrical motifs, there is a dark emotional undertone in Browne’s work. Much of it carries a feeling of foreboding, or suggests a melancholy or sinister sexual narrative.

In fact, Browne deliberately tries to create a narrative in his Interior Situations series, a sequence of paintings depicting a man and a woman interacting in an apartment building. The paintings are insinuating and mysterious, and since they lack overt explanation, the viewer is forced to create his or her own storyline. Browne created this series during his time at the Pratt Institute in NYC, where he received his MFA.

“Interior Situations”, 36”x24”, oil on canvas

After graduate school, Browne lived in NYC for a decade. A childhood friend from art camp was already living in New York and performing as a cabaret singer: “Broadway Brassy”. She encouraged Browne to come to performances, and that’s when he met other performers and fell in love with the burlesque scene. He would go to shows two or three times a week. He was fascinated by everything: the personalities, the theater sets, the costumes, and all the amazing things the performers were doing on and off stage. Driven by this new inspiration, Browne began a series of portraits of different performers. Looking at these portraits, one gets the feeling of being backstage, a glimpse of the human beings beneath the costumes. Browne’s confident brushwork reveals real people with imperfections, quirks, and private sorrows and hopes. And yet, at the same time, these paintings celebrate the playful, sexy spirit of the burlesque world.

“Rosey La Rouge”, 48”x32”, oil on canvas

In 2015, Browne and his family moved to Allentown to be near family, and also near his job at Kutztown University, where he works as an information/data specialist for Admissions. Browne and his wife have two young daughters, ages 2 and 4, and fatherhood has created a big change in his life as an artist. New constraints on his time have made it difficult to have a studio practice. These days, he wakes up around 3:30 or 4 am to work in his studio, before getting his kids ready for the day and going to work. “I can start the day doing something I love,” Browne says, “and then be with my kids and family the rest of the day.” Sometimes he also paints late at night. In some ways, having children has forced him to be more efficient and better with his time management. His two children have a little section of their own in his studio to do coloring and crafts. They also have become his subject matter: “My Last Candy” is a portrait of his older daughter, Nora.

“My Last Candy”, 30”x22”, oil on canvas  (portrait of Browne's daughter, Nora)

More recently, Browne has been working on a series of landscapes. When he first moved Pennsylvania from the big city, he was taken aback by how big the sky was. He found himself frequently looking out at open spaces during his commute to and from Kutztown University, and other places in the Lehigh Valley. With these paintings, he hopes to convey the beauty of the landscape, as well as its transitory nature.

“The Hills”, 5”x7”, oil on board

“I feel like there is never enough time in the day to be in the studio,” Browne admits. “My wife has become one of my biggest supporters and is always behind me… The community here is also very welcoming and I’m glad to have become part of the Lehigh Valley art scene.”

To view Kenneth Browne’s work, visit www.kennethbrowne.com.

Upcoming shows:

“3rd Annual Holiday Art Show & Sale”

Sunday, December 3 from 10:30am to 4:30pm

Art is Inn, 9868 Weiss Road, Breinigsville, PA 18031

December 6-31

Union and Finch restaurant

1528 W. Union Street, Allentown, PA 18102

The Devil's Plea

"How could I not grow to love you?" -- the Devil's Plea

Today's blog post is a poem and paintings by Graham Preston, in anticipation for the opening reception on Friday! Graham wrote the lyrics for a ballad which inspired the paintings, and John Beacher put it to music.  Live performance Friday at 7 pm!

a poem by graham preston

From out the forest grew Eden,

From out the holy graves of silent fox holes and the ancient homes of velociraptors walked Adam.  And they say, from that simple man, God cut a rib.  Like a tusk of ivory, like a sacred pearl, blood was rinsed from bone, and the Lord's holy golden fingers held that piece of Adam to the sky, when all of a sudden, calcium lit up like the reflection of crude oil, whose colors sprayed through the corners of space in such glory that all the black holes went blind.  You walked out from rays, from where God's hands were, your toes stepping over earth, over the tombs of things that never knew they were alive, and from out of them grew flowers.  With each step came daisies, and tulips, and orchids, and soon the forest and the hills were covered in color.

From your mouth you would make sounds, and for those sounds God made beasts to house them, so every time you spoke came new life.  And then you sang, oh my did you sing, how beautiful your song, your breath in decibels, so glorious that God filled the oceans with His tears.  Within His hysterics and by the power of your music, the undulations of His gasp turned the waves, and their crashing created atmosphere.  By then, even the moon bent to you, its sights glued open just to watch you, with intermittent blinking, pulling the draw of the tides as its eye opened and closed just so.

The void from Adam's chest kept him whimpering for days.  Days at a time, when time was new, when time was not yet time.  For the hours were days, the days years, and through those years your flowers grew, your beasts called you, and your ocean rolled. 

Adam was yet to  love you.  The pain was too great, the wound too fresh.  The cut so deep, God's first try laid upon the ground, yet to put his feet back under his weight, yet to open his eyes even to see you.  

I was the only one.  Perched in the branches, inside the eyes of your beasts.  Days upon days, years upon years... How could I not grow to Love you?  You ask me if God is cruel.

I ask you, how cruel is it to be conscious, to be present, to be of mind, to be before you and sworn not to touch you, to swim in your streams, move through your flowers, and hide behind the eyes of your beasts?  You, the most beautiful thing, my most sacred admiration, the wonder of my existence?

I knew God's laws.

I was made a part of you, before you,

Made to be of Him, for Him, for you

In you, a part of you, to care for you,

I was set here before to govern, to chaperone the exchange of life into death.

Where fuel burns into fuel, teeth into flesh over life-gasps.  I was assigned the needs between sleep.  I was made to uphold the rule over the destruction of what you made in order to support the making of new life.  You and I were destined. 

Fuck Adam.  You are so much more than his absence of bone.  I felt your fields, I sang back to you as your beasts, I worshiped you, swimming in the movements of your waves.  Even God didn't know what that was like.  Days into years, Adam on the ground.  You Naked.  Temptation wasn't born with me, temptation was born in us.  Trust me when I say that there has never been emptiness like the forsaken absence of your presence.  And Trust me when I say that it was worth it.

I am the apple,

I am the snake,

I am the tree and 

Your hands touched,

Your teeth gripped,

your lips sucked, and your tongue turned 

juices and such.

Fuel burned into fuel and so on 

and so on...

The Devil's Plea

Opening Reception: Friday, November 24th, 6-9 pm

Music performance by John Beacher 7 pm

Paintings by Graham Preston

Note from Lauren:  I have known John and Graham for decades; we were in school together growing up.  I recently reconnected with Graham (in 2014) and I credit him with inspiring me to be an artist.  Or, at least, he made me realize what was already alive within my own heart, and encouraged me to pursue it.  Read about this experience in my blog post: "Housewife on Fire."  Through Graham, I have since reconnected with John, and I'm very excited to collaborate with these old friends, who have grown into such talented, kind, and wonderful men.  

Additional Reading: my blog post "Eve" from two years ago.

And finally, here's the intro to another song that will be performed Friday.  Come here the whole thing in person!

Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 2

"Slow down and contemplate things."

--Israel Hershberg, artist

Here I am in Fort Sangallo, a museum in Civita Castellana, Italy, the town where I lived for two weeks.

So, anyone who talks to me for more than 30 seconds knows that I went to Italy to paint this summer.  I'm slowly writing about my experience, because it was just so full.  In Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 1, I wrote about my pre-trip excitement, my hopes and dreams, and a little bit about arriving in Civita Castellana.  I'll continue from there...

It took me several days to get my bearings.  I wrote in my diary:

July 11, 2017: I'm so tired.  What a full two days.  I feel like I have been here so long...It's 5 pm.  I just woke up from a much-needed siesta.  So hot here.  My apartment is lovely.  I'm not sure how to organize my time.  Everyone else is soooooo much better than me, I feel like I'm floundering....

I often had espresso in the Club Cafe, in the Piazza Matteotti in Civita’s Centro.  This is where we had art critiques on Saturdays.

Angelo and Giusy own the Club Cafe.  They were so kind to me!  Che bella coppia!

Diary, July 16th... I'm learning so much!  Honestly, the overwhelm can be intense!  I'm eating a lot of food, drinking wine, walking a lot with my easel on my back, and enjoying life fully!

Diary, July 18th... So here I am, a hot, sunny peaceful evening, sitting in my apartment kitchen in Italy!  I'm re-writing some notes from the critiques with Israel Hershberg [the main teacher in this program].

Notes from Israel's Critique

• Try to say more about how paint meets paint.
• Vary the treatment of how I put things down.
• Get to the essence, the distillation of things.  That's the reason we invest things with time.
• Painting is a fiction.  It's always been a fiction.  Fiction is Real.
• Spend time mixing color.
• Don't  be fussy.  Put down direct, impersonal marks.
• Slow down and contemplate things. 

Here is Israel (far left) during a critique, with Marsal in the center, and Christina on the right.

I also learned so much from the other artists in the program, especially Marsal Nazary and Christina Renfer Vogel. 

Marsal painted beside me a couple of days and generously gave me critiques and guidance.  

Some of Marsal's painting tips:

• make decisions
• consider the temperature of the colors
• try "killing the colors" in the shadow, to neutralize them a bit (with opposite color)
• try a premier coup, a painting done in one quick session

Christina Renfer Vogel, also gave me a lot of good feedback as well.  Although she was a fellow artist-resident in Italy, back in America, she is an actual art professor in Tennessee.  I loved talking with her about being a painter and a feminist.  Her most helpful advice was to "guard your studio time!"  (I use this advice every day.)  She also gave some suggestions of artist residencies I might pursue in the future and some good books.

Christina's Reading List

• Living and Sustaining a Creative Life by Sharon Louden (I read it already: wonderful)
• Artist as Culture Producer by Sharon Louden
• Art/Work by Heather Bhandari

Here is Christina painting.  Follow her on instagram: @studio_side_project

I loved spending time with other artists.  That was one of my favorite things about being in Italy.  This was the first time in my life that I have ever lived in a community of artists, and I can't describe how wonderful it was.  Often we cooked and ate together, staying up late and talking about art for hours.  It was heavenly.  Here is a dinner table filled with wonderful artists.  Hopefully I will eventually write about all of them in future posts!

Amazing artists from left to right: Theresa Morgan, Yael Dryzin, Florentina Munteanu, Lauren Ratcliffe, my roommate Kristen Peyton, and Laura Vahlberg.  Laura recently wrote a guest blog post!

So, in addition to the teachers and my artist peers, I also made many wonderful Italian friends.  Here are two very special people: Elvira and Antonio!  I met Elvira one evening when I was painting on the sidewalk near downtown, and we started chatting (in Italian!) and we became friends.  They allowed me to visit several times, paint on their rooftop garden (a view of Civita rooftops!) and Elvira cooked me a couple delicious dinners.

Elvira and Antonio.  My new Italian family!

The dinner Elvira made for me!!!! Fantastico!

Here I am, painting on the roof of Elvira and Antonio's house.  See more paintings in this post: "My Paintings and Sketches from Italy."

Well, that's all I have time to write tonight.  I'm feeling very nostalgic about Italy, and wishing so much that I could return.  Sigh...

In my next Italy post, I'll tell you about our Piero della Francesca field trip.

Until then, ci vediamo dopo!

Continue reading the Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 3, Florence

Other Italy Posts:

Roman Moon (poems)

Loveliest of What I Leave Behind  (guest teacher Susan Jane Walp)

Intentional Loitering

I'm Going to Paint in Italy!

Chris Liberti: thoughts on painting

“I’ve learned to surrender myself to both family and art and to make the most out of the time I spend with each.”

-- Chris Liberti

Red placemat

12"x16" oil on wood 2016

Earlier this year, I sent an email to the artist Chris Liberti, expressing my love of his paintings and my desire to write about him on my blog.  His response was kind and encouraging.  Not long after that, I heard an interview of Chris on the Savvy Painter podcast!  The interview is fantastic and I highly recommend listening to it.  I especially love the way Chris describes being a parent of two small children, and how he manages to balance parenthood and painting.  He also briefly mentions yoga and meditation as being important to him.  I was curious to know more, so I sent him another email.  His answer—simple yet profound-- has been so helpful to me and my own personal struggles (as an artist, parent, and human being), so I am sharing it with you.  Here it is:

A Guest Blog Post by Chris Liberti...

Studio Desk

16"x20" oil on wood 2016

I’m not a Yogi or meditation guru by any means and I’ve only started practicing one year ago, but here are my thoughts in brief.  I realized that by doing yoga and meditation, I was able to improve other aspects of my personal life and well-being.  Instead of laboring in the studio as much as possible, I began to carve out time to practice yoga, meditation, and exercise in general.

Time

27"x32" oil on wood 2017

Focusing on my mental and physical well being has helped me more than any amount of time spent overly consumed working on paintings.  It has allowed me to think clearer and to imagine the kind of paintings I want to make.  There is also a certain confidence that comes with this sense of clarity that has allowed me to make bolder, more interesting choices in my work. I feel I spend less time struggling to get a painting somewhere.  It has become easier for me to step back, when the time is right, instead of overworking it.

I believe that thinking about painting is equally important as painting itself.

Nothing is ever put straight

27"x36" acrylic and painted paper on wood 2017

As for advice on balancing family and art:

Schedule, consistency and pattern are highly important. Also, an easily accessible studio space, preferably at home. Try to limit distractions that provide little value. If the family is around and I’m distracted at the easel, I’ll usually turn to doing more mindless tasks that need to get done regardless, like gessoing panels, taking photos etc.

Note

18"X18" oil on wood 2016

I’m learning to turn off the “painting brain” when I’m with my family and tune into them. I’ve learned to surrender myself to both family and art and to make the most out of the time I spend with each. I recall my wife saying “we only get one chance to raise our children”. I took my 6 year old daughter to one of my galleries and told her she should bring a painting of hers to show them.  She loved the idea and was proud to do so. The owner played along and she talked about it for days.

3 Windows

22"x25" oil on wood 2017

Chris LIberti will be leading a painting workshop, Making Confident Decisions, in Charlotte, NC on November 10-12, 2017.  This weekend!  The workshop will be held at Andy Braitman's studio.

If you are interested in signing up, please contact Chris for details.

Piano

12"x12" Oil on wood 2016 

Cemetery Paintings

For the past week, I have been drawn towards the outdoors. I spent a long time walking around Easton with my easel-backpack, looking for a quiet spot to paint, a spot that had exciting shapes and colors.  Autumn is so cold and melancholy, with an aching beauty, heavy with mortality.  So, it's no surprise I was drawn to the Easton Cemetery, a place where I always feel very peaceful.  Everything about this cemetery speaks peace to me.

I wanted to be alone.  I wanted to feel the quiet stillness pressing around me on all sides.  I returned day after day, content to spend a long time mixing colors, laying down shapes, scraping them away, and doing it again. 

"Autumn Trees #2" 6x9" oil on linen

Every day that I went out, I came home feeling refreshed.  The cold air and the intense colors sank into my soul.  I tried to think about some of the painting advice that my friend from Italy, Laura Vahlberg, had given me.  This one thing in particular was in my mind as I painted:

Reality begins after 3 large simple masses are the correct value, chroma, and temperature. 

"Autumn Trees #1" oil on linen, 6x9"

Of course, I never really was able to stay with the three simple masses; I kept getting distracted by the autumn colors and it was so tempting to add more details.  But it helped me to begin that way, and try and return to that good beginning place as often as I could, even if it meant scraping everything away.

Simplify.

"Autumn Trees #3" oil on paper 5x7"

I painted near my Ukrainian great-grandparents' graves.  Here is the grave of my Baba (my great-grandmother).  Her name was Neonila Wengrshenowsky, but I suppose it was too much trouble to fit the whole name on the tombstone.  She died when I was four, and I can still remember her.  She was patient, with long white hair piled on top of her head.  I remember sitting next to her at a desk while she showed me how to draw a house with a pencil. 

I find that I am more joyful when I put paint down with a palette knife, rather than a brush.  I feel so excited by putting paint down thickly.  I think that I would be quite happy to be buried in this cemetery someday, with its large trees and winding paths.  Maybe, if I don't make it into heaven, I can be a ghost painting here. 

Which wouldn't really be that different from heaven...

Laura Vahlberg

Ten Tips on Painting: 

Lessons Learned in Civita Castellana, Italy

I met Laura when I was in Italy this summer, when we shared the same apartment building.  She is an incredible artist and I enjoyed having long conversations with her about art and life.  Today on my blog, she shares ten important painting tips she learned after a month of painting in Italy.  I've included the tips with eight of her stunning paintings. 

Check out more of her work at lauravahlberg.com !

"Path" 14.5x11", $450

1. Composition wins over content

2. Reality begins after 3 large simple masses are the correct value, chroma, and temperature. 

"Farm," 12"x7 7/8", $350

3. Ask the motif.

4. A painting is a radical commitment to an idea

"Old Civita," 12 1/8"x 16 1/4", $500

5. All colors must either be in the light world or the shadow world.

"Blue Car", 16"x12" $500

6. Humans have hunters' eyes to see in the dark. When we look into a color our eyes automatically lighten the color. Squinty peripheral vision shows us a more accurate color read.

"Bench". 15 1/8"x 11 7/8", $500

7. A painting is a box of light and air

"Balcony View" , 16"x 12 1/8", $500

8. Color relationships are the most exciting

"Cypress" 11 1/8x 11 1/8", $400

9. A lifetime of motifs are in my backyard

"Rooftops" 6 3/4x 6 7/8, $1,000

10. Allow for accidents.

"Olive Grove" 17x14" $650

Further Reading (more Italy blog posts)

Loveliest of What I Leave Behind

Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 1

Intentional Loitering

My Paintings and Sketches from Italy

Roman Moon

I'm Going to Paint in Italy

Dreaming of Italy

Nancy Bossert: Artist

“If you expect one thing from me, you will not advance with me.” -Nancy Bossert

"Submerge" 28x30" mixed media painting on archival paper by Nancy Bossert

my recent October Artist Profile article in the Easton Irregular newspaper

Ever since I moved to Easton 10 years ago, I have admired Nancy Bossert’s work. I frequently saw her art at Connexions, one of the galleries that represents her locally.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit down and have coffee with Nancy, and we had a lovely conversation about art. She is an energetic and confident person, and as we drank our coffee together, she talked candidly about her work.

Almost everything inspires her to create art. “It’s a constant barrage,” she says. “Everywhere, I see the lines, the angels, the compositions…” Since she was very young, she has always known she wanted to be an artist. She describes her desire to create as a strong and intimate force in her life. “It’s so innate. It’s so passionate.”

This passion manifests itself in a seemingly diverse body of work, encompassing representative figurative paintings, abstract pieces, fiber arts, stoneware, and jewelry, to name just a few elements. But there always is a common thread, and it’s not just the unity in value, composition, and palette, but also that more nebulous characteristic of art, which can’t be put into words exactly. This is what I might call the artist’s spirit, which shines clearly out of everything she makes.  

"Mother May I" oil on canvas, 24x18"

Some artists might find it daunting to have so many options available to them, but Nancy obviously thrives in this freedom. She doesn’t see her different styles and mediums as vastly separate things; they inspire and influence each other in a seamless interconnectivity. “For example,” she explains, “The abstract informs my figurative pieces. And vice versa.”

For her paintings, she again embraces a multitude of options: oil, acrylic, watercolor, gesso, and more. She likes to explore the combination of mass and linear elements in the same piece, juxtaposing the volume of a figure, for instance, and the roundness of the form, with the two-dimensional qualities of line and abstract shapes, reminding people that it’s a painting!

I personally find her pieces very evocative and narrative provoking. For example, her series of female figures submerging, or rising from the water, leads me to reflect on what it means to be a woman, to be hidden, invisible, or else to emerge, to reveal oneself to a public gaze. It seems to me that as a group, women have been silenced for various reasons, and that many have hidden stories which have not yet been told. Through her painting, Nancy begins to tell these stories. At least, that is some of my interpretation.

"Lowering into the Pool" 28x20" mixed media painting on archival paper by Nancy Bossert

Bossert works constantly. She describes a disciplined studio practice: she gets up early, checks her computer, and then gets to work in her studio where she lives in Nazareth, PA. Sometimes she knows exactly what she wants to do from the beginning, and she works straight through the day. She values good craftsmanship, whether it’s abstract or figurative, or something else. Integrity is a top value.

In addition to being an artist, Nancy is also a teacher. For the past 40 years, she has taught all ages, publicly and privately. It’s clear that she enjoys teaching; her experience as a teacher generates inspiration for her studio work. “I’m not creating artists, but creative thought,” she remarks, describing her teaching philosophy. She wants to teach people how to create a different way of looking at a situation.

On her website, Nancy clearly sums up her enthusiasm for what she does:

“The excitement is to love what you do with such a passion, and creating fine art and teaching is just that. I find that I am eager to learn and experiment everyday and equally as passionate to educate others.”

"White Robe" 19x12" mixed media painting on archival paper by Nancy Bossert

Nancy Bossert has her annual Open Studio on October 15, 11am-6pm at 245 Schindler Drive, Bethlehem, PA 18020. Visit Nancy online at www.nancybossert.com, Facebook: Nancy Bossert, and Instagram: bossertnancy. Contact Nancy at nancybossert@gmail.com.

Loveliest of What I Leave Behind... (paintings by Susan Jane Walp)

Not “Revelation”—’tis—that waits,

But our unfurnished eyes—

 --Emily Dickinson

Melon with Two Xeroxes, Cork and Knife
1999
oil on linen
9x9.5"

I met the artist Susan Jane Walp when I went to the Italy this summer.  She was a special guest teacher in the JSS program, and I was lucky to attend her lecture, during which she showed us many of her paintings.  My favorite part was when she read us some of her favorite poems.  Here are the poems, along with some of my favorite Susan Jane Walp paintings and drawings.  My favorite painting advice she gave during the lecture is this:

"There's a time for everything in painting: a time to begin, a time to end."

--Susan Jane Walp

Late Winter Beet and Spring-Dug Burdock
2010
oil on linen
8 x 8"

Loveliest of what I leave behind is the sunlight,

and loveliest after that the shining stars,

and the moon's face,

but also cucumbers that are ripe,

and pears,

and apples.

--Praxilla of Sicyon, fragment 747

Three Zinnias in a Glass of Water

oil on gessoed paper_9.75x9.375inches
2012
oil on gessoed paper
9.75 x 9.375"

No bone-chilling 

autumn wind

could pierce me

like this spring storm

scattering blossoms.

--Izumi Shikibu, translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani

Study for Papaya with Bowl of Walnuts
1994
graphite/colored pencil/gouache on hand-toned paper
11 x 15"

Although the wind

blows terribly here

the moonlight also leaks

between the roof planks

of this ruined house.

--Izumi Shikibu

Four Figs, Two Swans, and Pair of Scissors
2017
oil on linen
10.125 x 10"

Surgeons must be very careful

When they take the knife!

Underneath their fine incisions

Stirs the Culprit—Life!

Emily Dickinson (c.1859)

Study for Blueberries wih Wax Paper Bag, Cork and Shell
2003
graphite/egg tempera on hand-toned paper
10 x 12 3/4"

By Chivalries as tiny,

A Blossom, or a Book,

The seeds of smiles are planted—

Which blossom in the dark.

Emily Dickinson (c.1858)

Olive Branch in a White Plastic Cup
2007
oil on paper
9 1/8 x 8 15/16"

As I dig for wild orchids

in the autumn fields,

it is the deeply-bedded root

that I desire,

not the flower.

--Izumi Shikibu

Study for 'Succulent in a White Plastic Cup'
2007
graphite, felt tip pen, and gouache on hand-toned paper
Sheet: 16 3/8 x 18 1/4" Image: 13 11/16 x 13 5/8"

You can see some of Susan Jane Walp's work this Friday, October 6:

Art at King Oaks

a Bucks County pop-up exhibiton

opening reception 6-9 pm

756 Worthington Mill Road, Newtown, Bucks County, Pennsylvania

Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 1

"...having always that strange brightness of an essential flame that is caught, meshed, contravened.."

--D.H. Lawrence, Women in Love

In case you don't know, earlier this year I received a two-week partial scholarship to do an artist-residency in Civita Castellana, Italy, part of the JSS program.  It was a huge deal for me!  My first time going overseas, my first time living in a community of artists, my first time being away from my husband and children for more than a night...in over a decade!  I was soooooo excited.  My flight was July 9th.  I missed the bus to Newark, so my husband drove me to the airport.  Here is my luggage:

My easel was in my backpack, clothes and oil paints in my suitcase, and novels in my purse.

I tried to cool my heels in the Newark airport.  I wrote frantically in my diary:

I'm so excited to be in Italy soon!  I'm nervous about getting on the plane.  I'm anxious about flying.  I'm scared of crossing the ocean.  And then I'll be in Italy!! Wow! I can't believe it.

So happy I almost floated up into outer space.  Luckily my luggage kept me grounded.

To pass time in the airport, I made myself some goals... 

I met all the goals except #3. Because I was at a very fun dinner party and didn't want to leave.  Oh, and #1 didn't happen because there was no thunderstorm, but I did write a lot of poems...

I flew over the ocean in the night.  I could see the full moon resting on the wing of the airplane, as we sped through the darkness.  I couldn't sleep at all.  In the morning, I looked down to see Italy!  It looked so beautiful, just like I dreamed it would.

Italy out the window of the plane!

I met some other artists at the airport in Rome, and there was a bus waiting to shuttle us to our apartment in Civita, a small town one hour north of Rome.  The drive was amazing; rolling hills and vineyards and mountains that looked like they were right out of paintings, and old buildings that looked sort of like castles, and cypress trees and miles of sunflowers.  The bus was filled with artists from different countries, and it was so exciting to get to know each other on that drive.

The deck of my apartment, the scene of many cups of espresso, conversations about art, and glasses of wine.

We arrived at our apartment.  It was a beautiful big house that had five separate apartments in it, and yet it was laid out in such a way that it felt private and spacious.  The house was owned by a wonderful couple, Patrizia and Fabrizio, who were so warm and welcoming to me during my stay.  

Fabrizio and Patrizia...and me in the middle!

My room was so beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The view from my bedroom window.  Sigh...

I shared a room with the Best Roommate Ever.  Her name is Kristen Peyton, and she is an AMAZING artist and wonderful person.  I plan to write a blog post all about her soon.  But why wait?  Check out her website now!

My roommate Kristen, sitting by our window.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Here is a painting Kristen did of the Duomo, the lovely church in the center of Civita.  

Kristen taught me a lot about being an artist, mostly by example.  Her work ethic was admirable; together we got up and watched the sunrise with our espressos, before going out for a day of painting.  But, whereas I would come home and flop into my bed, exhausted, after a few hours of painting, Kristen managed to soldier on for several additional painting sessions.  She also put a lot of time into doing drawings with charcoal and pencil, and it was apparent that this practice supported her painting work, and it's something I would like to imitate.  

one of Kristen's drawings: "Civita Castellana", charcoal on paper, 9.5"x13" 

Kristen exposed me to new artists and ways of mixing colors, and she gave me valuable critique and encouragement.  She also inspired me to be a better human being just by being herself: a good person of humor, integrity, and compassion.

Also...we ate a lot of divine pasta together.  Mangiamo!!!

I have so much more to tell you about, including more photographs of the town of the Civita, stories about people I met, and food I ate, and trying to paint, and learning about making art, and learning about myself.  Not to mention our field trips to Florence and Urbino and other places, as well as my own solo-trip to Florence at the end.  But I'll try to tell my story slowly, over several blog posts, so that I can just savor the memory of it all beginning again.

Monte Soratte, the most painted mountain in art history, or so the story goes...  I walked past it every day when I went into town.

Continue Reading "Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 2" and "Story of My Trip to Italy: Part 3, Florence."

Other Italy-Related Posts:

My Paintings and Sketches from Italy

Roman Moon (poems)

Intentional Loitering 

I'm Going to Paint in Italy

Dreaming of Italy

My Paintings and Sketches from Italy

"It's such a lovely feeling, to know what I want to do with my life!  Paint!!!"

--excerpt from my diary from this July, when I was in Italy

"View from the New Town" 6x8" oil on linen mounted on board, with light-colored wooden floater frame

I ate so much pasta in Italy, insane amounts of scrumptious carbs.  Luckily, all of this gluttony was balanced out by lots and lots of walking, carrying my 20+ pound easel.  One day I wandered across the bridge over the ravine that led to the new part of town.  Another, seasoned artist had suggested I try a certain terrace that had a good overlook.  I found it, and I painted this small study, "View from the New Town."  Just as I finished painting it, and had cleaned up my brushes, a bird flew over me and pooped on the painting.  I wondered if the bird was expressing some harsh critique, or if perhaps, in Italy, this was a sign of appreciation (for birds, anyway.)  Either way, I didn't feel like I wanted to get my brushes dirty again, so I just rubbed the poop in with my finger.  So, that makes it extra-special.

"Mattina" oil on board, 4x7" SOLD

Even though I wasn't taking a class, (my artist residency resembled an independent study) I learned so much!  I can't stress enough how much I owe to the other artists I encountered in the JSS program.  It was humbling and awe-inspiring to be in their presence, and I was constantly absorbing new ideas, techniques, and perspectives from them.  I the  wrote about this painting [above] the day I painted it: 

I'm so grateful to be surrounded by amazing artists every I go, who are generous with their time and knowledge.  Yesterday, a young woman named Marsal gave me so many helpful little tips.  At her suggestion I tried this "premier coup," a small, one-shot sketch of the motif I was working on in a larger, slower way.  It was very cool doing the same thing at different speeds.  This is the little fast one.

"Montagne del mattino" 8x13.5" linen mounted on board in a light-colored wooden floater frame

The heat in Italy was so extreme!  It was nearly impossible for me to paint between noon and five pm.  I decided to get up at dawn every morning and paint when it was cooler.  My amazing roommate, Kristen Peyton, would get up with me.  Together, we made our espresso and simple breakfast of yogurt, nutella, and fruit, enjoying it out on the porch while we watched the sunrise.  Then, together, we shouldered our heavy easels (Kristen actually had a wagon that she used to drag all her painting gear around town!) and we headed out together for a morning of painting.  I spent three mornings on the painting above, trying to get that special misty green in the shadows of the ravine.  My new friend Marsal was painting nearby, and once again she gave me quite a bit of encouragement and helpful feedback.

"Cliff Shadows" oil on linen mounted on board, 5x6" (I think)  SOLD

While I painted this scene of cliff shadows and distant mountains [above], three little Italian kittens were watching me!  During my painting session, several local people approached the kittens, giving them food.  One little old woman came and scattered dry cat food in the corner, calling the kittens by name.  Later, a man came and brought some fresh meat for them.  Even though they were obviously alley-cats, they were loved and cared-for.

Gattini!  (Italian kittens...watching me paint!)

"Evening Light Across the Ravine" oil on linen mounted on board, 6x6" (unframed) SOLD

Every day I walked into town, sometimes several times a day.  I found a slightly longer route that took me along the ravine, and in the evening it was a quiet place to paint.  Hardly anyone was there, except for the occasional lovers trysting...

marker sketch for my first painting in Italy, 4x6" framed

"My First Painting in Italy" oil on linen mounted on board, 4x6"

Painting makes me feel like I am flying!  I can't describe the joy that fills my heart.  After spending more than a day wandering around being jet-lagged and overwhelmed by beauty, I finally painted this sunny cliff-face [above].  It's my first time touching my paintbrush to linen in Italy.

I asked a man who lived nearby if he would take my picture, and he was happy to oblige.  And, can you believe it, I asked it in Italian!  I couldn't believe that I was able to have conversations with people who didn't speak English.  Of course, everyone was very patient with my mistakes and my asking them to repeat themselves and speak slower...

"Iera Sera" (yesterday evening) oil on linen mounted on board, 4x6" unframed

On my sixth day in Italy, I had my first critique from the teacher of the JSS program, Israel Hershberg.  He suggested I pay attention to "where paint meets paint."  So, with that in mind, I set up my easel on an incredibly windy day and tried this motif.  Eventually the wind won.  I couldn't keep my easel from blowing over, so I called it finished.

Sketch for View of Civita, 3x5" framed

"View of Civita" oil on linen mounted on board, 3x5" sketch  (Not for sale.  I gave this to my first grade teacher who has continued to give me encouragement and support even though I'm all grown up now!  (Thank you Chris!)

While I was painting this [above], a group of Italian teenagers came up to me, and shyly offered me some fresh slices of watermelon.  It was so refreshing and delicious on a hot day!  What a sweet gift!

A photograph I took of Italian laundry!

This is the last painting I did in Italy [below].  I was fascinated by all the laundry hanging everywhere in this tiny old town.  It struck me as so poetic, fascinating, and colorful.  Every little alley had its flags and streamers of colorful laundry, and I believe if I could have stayed another week or to, I would have done a whole series of laundry-paintings.  

When I was painting this, Yael Scalia happened to walk by.  She is an artist I have long admired, and it was partly my desire to meet her in person which inspired me to apply for this artist residency in the first place.  So of course I felt very glad when she came by twice and gave me some critique.  One helpful idea was to scrape away layers of paint with my palette knife, and sort of "start over" with the ghost of the painting remaining as a guide.  You can see scrapings pretty clearly in this, my first attempt at trying it.

"Signora, per favore, non lavora!" oil on linen mounted on board, 8x8" with wooden floater frame.  SOLD.

The old woman pictured in the window of my painting tried to bring her laundry in while I was halfway through, and I cried up to her from the courtyard below: "Signora, per favore, non lavora!" which means (I think) "Ma'am, please don't work."  (Because I wasn't sure how to say "please don't do take your laundry in.")  Anyway, she thought I was hilarious, and laughed quite a bit.  Then she smiled indulgently, and allowed me to finish.  Every so often, she would poke her head out and ask how it was going.  Finally I called up, "Signora, ho finito!"

I'm finished.

But... I'm not finished with you, my dear Italy.  More blog posts to come.

photograph I took of some buildings in Civita

Italia...

James Gloria (and the Riverside Arts Festival this weekend!)

“I don’t care about the finished painting as much as I care about painting.  
The process is what motivates me.”  

--James Gloria, artist

Here is my most recent Easton Irregular article, an artist profile about local artist, James Gloria.  Meet James this weekend at the Riverside Arts Festival in Easton!

James Gloria is a prolific, exuberant painter living and working in the lush Pennsylvania countryside near Bangor.  Currently, he is drawn to the immediacy of plein air painting, and his style is fluid, painterly, and confident.  He is interested in the process of painting, including the materials and techniques used by 16th century fresco painters, especially the technique of Scagliola.  James is persistent and patient in his work, and his curiosity about the materials and process has added depth and interest to what he does.  

In his artist statement, he says: “By developing a familiarity with the component parts of the materials and techniques of painting, I engage in a dialogue. Inconsistencies in materials are, in fact, opportunities to explore the dynamics  and properties of raw materials. Expectations are modified, new paths are opened, and new ideas are stimulated. A focus on the process becomes as meaningful as the product.”
James Gloria has led a very creative life, having studied Scenic and Costume Design at the Mason Gross School of the Arts at Rutgers University.  For a while he worked as an apprentice designer and painter, and later on he started his own decorative arts business, painting murals and faux finishes.  In 2006, James and his wife, a former professional modern dancer, opened the Totts Gap Arts Institute.  They offer workshops, classes, and events in the fine and performing arts for all ages.  He also set up a weekly figure drawing session at Totts Gap, which meets every Wednesday and Thursday evening, and helps him to keep practicing the figure.

In his current plein air oil paintings, he often makes use of heavy impasto and large brush strokes, and he finds inspiration outdoors.  He greatly admires Sargent, Corot, and Sorolla.  When painting outdoors, James likes to remember these three goals given to him by his figure painting teacher Lloyd McNeill from Rutgers.  A good plein air painting should:
 Resemble the scene
Look like light
Look like paint
James makes a point to never abandon a painting.  “Even if you screw it up, you follow it through, and try to make it work,” he says.  “ Try to figure out why it’s not working.”  He compares painting to storytelling, in the sense that he doesn’t spell out every little thing.  Instead, he tries to describe the essence of the scene.  He also compares painting to music.  A musician himself, James plays improvisational jazz on the guitar.   
Whether it is storytelling, music, or painting, one doesn’t force emotion into the creative work, it just comes naturally.  James quotes another one of his teachers from Rutgers, Ilya Shevel, a Russian painter:  “I don’t know why you Americans are worried about putting emotions into your paintings, as if you had a choice.”  When you are an artist, there is no choice, there is just making the work, and allowing it to happen.
James explains his dedication to the artist path in his artist statement:  “For me, making art is a way of connecting with the essence of being, by living in the moment of the creative process.”

James Gloria will be at the Easton Riverside Festival of the Arts in Easton, PA, entering the Plein Air painting competition on September 16th and 17th.  More about the Riverside Arts Festival,  James Gloria, and the Totts Gap Art Institute, where James will be teaching several painting workshops, can be found on these websites:

www.jamesgloria.com
www.tottsgap.org
eastonriversidefest.org

Intentional Loitering

"...to stand or wait around with the intention of committing an offense."

--Oxford Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, a legal phrase from 1891

("offense" meaning Art, in my case)

I can't seem to write about Italy in a linear way; it's going to come out over the next few months in fragments.  I feel much like a deep pond which reveals its hidden world slowly, as the mud settles to the bottom, and the light shines down into it.  If only I could stop thrashing about and stirring up more mud!  But when I sit quietly by myself, sipping a tiny cup of espresso (my new, Italy-induced addiction), I start to have a strong feeling, like I can almost see something really important, something that perhaps may have been within me all along, but has been roused during my time in Italy, and is now trying to make itself known.  

What could it be?

Blissfully lost in an old alleyway in Civita Castella...

Shortly after I returned from Italy, in early August, I met up with the artist Jennifer Griffin.  I tried to describe to my experiences to her, including the unseen, internal changes I felt deeply.  Something about the culture of Italy had influenced me.  

I found that in Italy, there didn't seem to be the same intense focus on production, efficiency, and money, at least not what I was used to in America.  Instead, I felt I was in a different, slow, sensual sort of culture.  Wherever I wandered, I encountered an enthusiasm for really good food, fresh and delicious ingredients, a deep regard for the quality and beauty of the experiences and interactions, and a respect for leisure as a regular part of life.  

(Example: siestas... necessary after eating tons of pasta, as I did daily. See image below.)

Gnocchi and wine... one of my many divine meals in Civita Castellana!

I wanted to take some of that mindset, and bring it back home with me into my life.  I felt restless and agitated.

"I'm just not ready to go back to the way I used to work," I told my artist friend Jennifer.  "All those rigid goals....I used to just set a bunch of goals for myself each week and struggle arduously to check them off my to-do list."

I remember having a calendar in my studio with exactly what kind of painting I was going to do each day of the month.  I felt like I had to work this way, to prove to the world that I was a real artist and that I could make money and pay my rent.  But now, I no longer have an urge to work that way.  It just doesn't feel right any longer.

Me, painting in Civita Castellana, Italy.

Jennifer suggested that I invite a different method of working into my studio practice.  She described something she called "intentional loitering."  I would go into the studio regularly (that's the intentional part) but once there, I would loiter, putter around, and see what kind art wanted to manifest.  It's a little frightening to let go of control like that!  

But I knew I had to try it because as she spoke, it was just like all these wonderful bells started to ring in my soul.  So that's just what I intend to do!

my palette in Italy

After spending time with Jennifer, I went home and wrote in my journal:

I feel deep in my heart that there is something inside of me-- there are paintings inside of me, that won't come out..they won't respond to that sort of dominating, controlling energy I used to have.  They need space, and quiet.  They are curious but shy.

This brings to mind these little black kittens in Italy that used to come onto the cobbled alley street and watch me while I painted, if I was quiet for a while. 

Curious, but shy.  

And yet...so wonderful, and so worth waiting for!

Gattini (Italian kittens)

More:  Poems I wrote in Italy!