Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Mail art from the token traditionalist


"Tribute to Klimt," Austria,  http://postkunstgustavklimt.blogspot.co.at/2016/04/088-deborah-dendler-usa.html

"World Theatre," Portugal
"Trees," France

"King Lear," UK

When I first heard about mail art*, I thought it was complete nonsense, just for amateurs. Nothing to do with me.  I'm a serious artist.  A few years went by without any change in my opinion. And then I looked at a mail art show online and was totally blown away. True, some of the submissions were actual crayon drawings from elementary school kids. And some of the others weren't much better.  But there were some that were refreshingly original, witty, and unique. On a postcard. I was intrigued.

It happened that right then I had a dense crop of unpleasant medical scans, tests, and labwork that had to be done, which involved a lot of waiting around, which felt like wasted time, when my normal work routine was totally disrupted. I couldn't concentrate and I wasn't getting anything done. But I remembered a mail art show that sounded interesting. So while I was waiting around, I did a drawing on a blank postcard, sent it off and that was that. Except that it wasn't. I felt so overjoyed, uplifted and good about getting something started, finished and sent off into the world in less than a day that I did another mail art entry. And another. So that's what I do lately while I'm waiting for labwork, tests and scans - mail art.


Here's why. From beginning to end, a finished sculpture takes me about a year. The time from the initial sketch, to detailed drawings, to a small maquette is about a month. From the maquette to a full size sculpture is at least three months. From that to a cast or fired, patinated, and mounted sculpture is another one to six months, depending on my schedule and the foundry. So I love the idea of picking up a pen and a blank postcard and drawing, and then addressing, stamping and mailing it. One hour, maybe two, and I’ve completed and exhibited a new work. 

Plus there’s no waiting around for another year for exhibition: photographing, submitting to a show, packing and shipping, publication of the catalog. Instead, I mail it, and it’s released into the world, free as a bird, to find its own place. Maybe in the recycling bin. Maybe on a gallery wall.  Either way, it’s not my problem anymore. Wikipedia says that "Mail art is considered art once it is dispatched." So there. 

The second reason, overflow, is that I have more ideas than I can possibly execute in my lifetime.  Some of them aren’t sculpture, some of them aren’t good, and lots of them will just never make it into permanent sculpture materials. So the overflow is perfect material for mail art shows. 

Third reason is that I draw all the time. I can’t help it. In elementary  school, I got into a lot of trouble for drawing instead of doing math. By high school, I had perfected my drawing-disguised-as-note-taking techniques. Imagine my delight when I went to art school and I got to draw on purpose, as much as I wanted, without recrimination! But to this day, all paper and writing materials are fair game for drawing. The backs of envelopes, post-it notes, bills, grocery lists are all just waiting to be drawn upon.

And the final humdinger of a reason to participate in mail art shows is the amazing work that appears in them. I’m assuming that whatever I submit will be among the most traditional and least innovative.  I’m totally on the classical end of the art spectrum, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get my socks knocked off by what’s on the other end. Good stuff. I also like to feel I’m upholding the traditional, classical end of the art spectrum. I’m the token traditionalist. Somebody has to do it.

I'm amused to find that just like the spectrum of thank you-note-writing for gifts, some curators of mail art shows don't respond at all when you send some an entry, while some, who have obviously been well brought up, respond with an email, or even a letter.  One even sent me a photo of my drawing in the center of a wall of wildly eclectic work.  It was so cool:  it looked as though my very traditional portrait was an anchor to a whole world of portraits spinning off around it.

But I gotta go - I have a PET scan. I'm thinking about drawing with metallic markers for that mail art show in Greece. Maybe Ulysses...

*  Mail art -  "populist artistic movement centered on sending small scale works through the postal service...Media commonly used in mail art include postcards, paper, a collage of found or recycled images and objects, rubber stamps, artist-created stamps (called artistamps), and paint, but can also include music, sound art, poetry, or anything that can be put in an envelope and sent via post. Mail art is considered art once it is dispatched. Mail artists regularly call for thematic or topical mail art for use in (often unjuried) exhibition.[1][3]
The mail artist community values the interconnectedness of the participants and promotes an egalitarian ethos that frequently circumvents official art distribution and approval systems such as the art market, museums, and galleries. Mail artists rely on their network as the primary way of sharing their work, rather than being dependent on the ability to locate and secure exhibition space.[4]The community embraces this outsider or alternative status, and refers to itself as "The Eternal Network" or just "The Network."[5"    Wikipedia




Tuesday, April 19, 2016

What's the problem, Iceland?

Screenshot of Google Analytics showing the countries from which people have visited my website

Like everyone else on earth, I have a website (deborahdendler.com). I am amused and amazed on a daily basis by how many visitors do or do not visit my site. For a long time, I've been mystified by two things:  What's up with Russia? And, what's the problem with Greenland and Iceland? I get why there wouldn't be a lot of internet traffic to an obscure North American sculpture website from the Congo, Paraguay or Mongolia. Not sure that high speed internet connections are top priorities in those areas.  But Greenland and Iceland? They're European and more highly developed than the US. So what's the problem? Partly it's the numbers. There are more people living in Newton, MA (80,000) than live in Greenland (30,000.) And while Iceland has almost 11 times as many people (323,000) it is also a country with no clay. Their most illustrious Icelandic sculptor, Einar Jonsonn, couldn't get a reliable source of clay (a hundred year ago) so he worked mainly in plaster. Apparently, the sculptural needs of Iceland are still met by Einar Jonsonn, just as Sweden is still happy with the sculpture of Carl Milles. Fine.

The Russian traffic to my website is the most mysterious. I've had more visitors from Russia than any other country, except the US. It's true I have actually shown my work in St. Petersburg, Russia, but still. For some reason, I'm really big in Kyrgystan. At work, I asked a guy who's Russian/Ukranian, and he said humorously, "They're watching us." But I think he's right. They are watching us. I feel like I'm in a James Bond movie.  Meanwhile, how do I attract the Icelandic crowd? And more importantly, would Iceland let us send them some bankers?

Deborah Dendler website
Deborah Dendler Facebook page

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Drawing babies that don't look like Winston Churchill

I'm so excited!  I finally did some drawings of a baby that don't look like Winston Churchill! They also don't look exactly like my grandson, but hey - you can't have everything. At least he doesn't look like he needs a cigar.






I also did some other drawings of children using touches of white chalk and a watercolor pencil (Derwent Venetian red) so I can do some simple washes. To draw children, I do a sketch of the child from life, and then take a digital photo when the child gets too wiggly to pose anymore.  This can be anywhere from 30 seconds to 5 minutes.  If possible, I ask the child to pose again, but I try to keep my favorite models from getting burnt out.





Deborah Dendler website
Deborah Dendler Facebook page

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Get real

Life drawing, red and white chalk, 2016

I have to confess that I don't get photo realism or hyperealism.  The whole point of creation is to make something new that didn't exist before. But in photo realism and hyperealism, the image already exists as a photograph.  Why recreate it as a painting or drawing?  What I especially don't understand is the laborious, exact copying of a photo of a celebrity that the copyist doesn't have permission to use.  Not only is it asking for trouble, but it's dumb.  Celebrities are the ones with the money and the lawyers.  Who do you think would win a copyright battle - celebrity or clueless artist?  And that goes for the photographer of a celebrity, too, who is undoubtedly a pro and not doing this for fun.  Copyright infringement is a big deal.

The only time I've copied photos was in high school, fifty years ago.  At the time, I was trying to learn how to draw any way that I could think of, so I tried to draw by copying photos.  It didn't work.  What I wound up with was neither a good drawing or a good photo.  On the other hand, I don't have a problem with copying the work of a master to study and learn.  I've even done it.  For study purposes, I've copied the drawings and paintings of Rembrandt, Durer, Leonardo and Michelangelo.  Aside from that, I usually work from life, unless my subject is either not the right age or life form to sit still, or is no longer on the planet.  I just don't see the point of copying from photographs.  Much better to learn how to actually draw or paint than to copy photos.

My final problem with photrealism/hyperealism is the increasing amount of realist work with soupy subjects from mythology, history and fantasy.  There's a fine line here.  We already did the 19th c. once - let's not do it again, please!  How real do we have to get?

Deborah Dendler website
Deborah Dendler Facebook page