Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Shake it up



I've been agonizing over a sequence of questions for so long that I'm starting to feel like I need some help.  I'm confused about what shows to enter, and what to exhibit, and where, and why.  What I need is a Magic 8 Ball for Artists, to answer questions like, "Should I enter the Blah Blah Blah show?"  or "Should I apply to the "Yada Yada Yada?" No matter who is asking these questions and what it's all about, there are actually only two answers, although the Magic 8 Ball would have to have ten times as many #1 answers as #2:

"Should I enter the National BS Show?"
1.  No.  The juror (or panel of jurors) is an idiot.
2.  Yes.

Of course, one explanation of the incomprehensible choices of jurors in many shows is that the jurors were using a Magic 8 Ball of their own:

"Should I include entry #34?"
1.  No. The artist is a zombie.
2.  Yes.

But there are a whole class of other questions that artists frequently ask:
"Is this (painting, drawing, whatever) a lost cause?"
"Should I bother finishing this?"
"Is this hopelessly out of proportion?" etc.

And these could be answered with a whole lot of cliches:
Try again.
Keep trying.
It's better than you think.
Practice makes perfect.
If at first you don't succeed, shake again.

Altogether, all of an artist's questions could be answered simply, saving the artists' partners, friends and spouses hours of hemming and hawing.  So, what do you think, should I patent this amazing idea?  Drat.  No Magic 8 Ball to give me an answer.


deborahdendler.com





Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The fat lady isn't singing yet




Last summer, I was cleaning out my studio and hauled out an old sculpture from the closet it had been parked in for more than 20 years. The sculpture is a student work - the first sculpture I ever cast in plaster, in fact. I'd kept it all these years because I really like some things about it. But from one angle it kinda looks like a deoderant check. And there are technical problems.  So, I decided to throw it out. As I put it in the trash can, I wondered, "Is there anything I can do with this besides throw it out?" I remembered an old idea and ideas don't have expiration dates. The idea was one I'd thought of years ago, but had never acted on it. (I have a theory about ideas and actions - there's a 3 minute rule.  Remind me to explain that later.) The idea was to wrap the figure in chains and flowers, sort of a female version of the Laocoon, symbolizing contemporary woman’s struggle with idolization and enslavement over her appearance. The flowers to represent the transitory rewards for a woman’s beauty; the chains to symbolize the trap inherent in the quest for physical beauty and perfection.

So I did it. I pulled the sculpture out of the trash can. I scrounged up some chain, found some little paper roses the right scale, put the whole thing together, and spraypainted it all white. Then I took photos and named it "American Woman." And here's the funny thing. That sculpture from the trash can was accepted in 4 out of 5 things I entered it in. It won an award in the first exhibition, was published in two art and literary magazines, and one publication designated me as a Distinguished Artist. And it was selected to represent my state in a year long online exhibition that's kind of a big deal, Figure50 2016.

After a run of glorious and unexpected successes, of course, "American Woman" got a couple of rejections. Oh well. You can't win them all. I don't know what happens next, but I'm not hearing the fat lady sing.

Deborah Dendler website
Deborah Dendler Facebook page

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

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Brunching with the Borgias or Money Laundering in the Art World



There was a time when the top art buyers in the world were also its cultural leaders.  Popes, emperors, kings, and the aristocracy were the patrons of the art world, its trendsetters, and its critics.  At the top of the socio-economic ladder, they were also the most educated and sophisticated members of society.  Their tastes ruled what was fashionable and their ideas decided what was good art.  Art was once a symbol of culture and wealth.  Buying art showed you had arrived or moved up the socio-econmic ladder.  Consequently, people once bought art the way people buy new cars today.  The Medici family in Florence is the classic example of education, wealth and culture combined in art buyers and patrons during the Renaissance.

Today the highest priced work of living artists looks like no one has ever looked at it on purpose.  It's junk.  It's impossible to imagine a connoisseur of stainless steel balloon animals.  No education, culture, thought or sensitivity is necessary for the consumption of this art.  It seems incomprehensible until you understand what's really going on.  The fastest selling, highest priced art isn't bought by art lovers.  It's bought by criminals and criminal organizations to launder money.  The opacity of high level art sales is ideally suited for money laundering.  Anyone can buy a million dollar painting in complete secrecy, no questions asked.  The buyer plunks down the cash, and buys the art.  There's no oversight, no safeguards.  And apparently, that's what's going on.

The buyers of all that bazillion dollar art probably never even look at what they just bought, because it's all sold again almost immediately.  Instead of the benevolent guiding influence of cultured art patrons like the Medici, what we've got instead are the Borgias, poisoning everything before we even get to the table.

What this means for actual, living artists is that you better hang on to your hat.  None of this has anything to do with you or being an artist or making art.  Just do it.  Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.

Deborah Dendler website
Deborah Dendler Facebook page

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/13/arts/design/art-proves-attractive-refuge-for-money-launderers.html?_r=0
http://www.widewalls.ch/the-art-world-money-laundering-february-2015/
http://mileswmathis.com/launder.pdf
http://www.hopesandfears.com/hopes/culture/art/214699-guide-to-laundering-money-art