The Decision and the End of Artist's Block"

"Pi", 8" x 10", Acrylic & gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board;  ©  2015
Prints available--message me for details.

“Artist’s Block” is rooted in fear.  Fear of mistakes.  Fear of messing up.  Fear of failure.  All of these will impede beginning.  Beginning is the end of Artist’s Block.

Indecision is the result of this fear.  Making “The Decision” is the key.  The idea is to create something to respond to.  The Decision is probably going to be wrong anyway but it will prompt a reaction.  

"Hyperbolic Paraboloid Sketch", 8" x 10", Gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board;  ©  2015
Prints Available--Message me for details.  Collection Steve Nyland

Responding is the key to unlocking creativity.  It doesn't even matter if the idea and execution are awful.  But get the ball rolling and believe that you have what it takes to figure it out.  It’s easier to work with something than to work with nothing.

It’s like editing.  You can’t edit what isn’t there.  Your artwork is in motion as long as you can determine a problem and consider a solution.  Problem solving is creative.  Trust your instincts.  Don’t quit until it works.

"Tree of Life, 6 Points", 8" x 10", Acrylic & Gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board; ©  2015
Backed, shrink wrapped and shipped anywhere in the lower 48 for $65.

I run into this hesitation in my studio these days with each new piece.  When I was in the midst of a focus project I knew what the next step was at the end of the day and what to do when I got back into the studio.

"Black Transformation Hexagon", 72" x 72", Gesso white wash on roofing felt; ©  2015
Unframed, rolled and shipped anywhere in the lower 48 for $400

Free range artwork is a whole different process in the wake of the focus project.  Each piece requires fresh inspiration, new insight and solutions.  OUCH! 

I am currently reworking last year’s abstract drawings with mathematics.  Each piece relates to different equations, parabolas or geometry--eventually. 

"Sweetgrass Drawing", Gesso & chalk on primed mat board;  ©  2014
Prints available--message me for details.

I continually say, “Make a decision.  It doesn’t matter if it works right now.  It will work.”  Each painting has required response after response to those initial decisions.  Each painting resolves itself into a fine and unusual artwork—WINNING!

"Parabola Oops", Acrylic & gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board;  ©  2015
Backed, shrink wrapped and shipped anywhere in the lower 48 for $65.

If you are avoiding your studio I want to encourage you. Make a decision on that painting that has you stuck.  If it’s the empty canvas (or page) that has you stuck then just slam it.  Make something to paint out and see what that looks like.  Then paint it out again.  And then paint that out.  What colors have evolved?  What textures? 

"Sweetgrass Parabola", 8" x 10", Acrylic & gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board; ©  2015
Backed, shrink wrapped and shipped anywhere in the lower 48 for $65.

Work with what emerges.  Let it tell you what’s happening, what it is and where it’s going.  All you need to do is push it and follow it.  Do it.  Make it.  It’s only art, right?

Have faith--it’s more fun than fear.  You will not fail if you do not quit. Let me know how it works out for you.

"Hypar Quad w/Circles", 8" x 10", Acrylic & gesso, chalk & pencil on primed mat board; ©  2015  
Backed, shrink wrapped and shipped anywhere in the lower 48 for $65.

http://jtnwdc.wix.com/jamesthatcherarts

The Tree of Life

I was working smaller to crank out ideas for large scale grid paintings.  As this study was nearly finished I noticed a shape lurking in the axes of all those squares:

An ideation sequence from 2012 ended in this shape (see “Finding the BrokenObelisk”) and it was exciting to see again. To have it reappear naturally was a pleasant surprise. 

Suddenly I knew the direction.  It was as if the grid was the way to get to this hexagon shape.  Fine with me!  I dropped the grid and went full tilt, working that hexagon shape.

A hexagon is a six-sided figure with six angles and six vertices.  We all think of the honeycomb but a hexagon is not necessarily equilateral—the sides don’t all have to be the same length.  

 

I didn’t labor over this but it came to be more important as time went on.


I was rolling with this image, not worrying about anything except what the next idea was:  boom, boom, boom went the artwork!

*******************

The holidays were upon us and my wife and I went away for a week or so.  No art production, just vacation, visiting, watching football—a great break.  We come home and instead of jumping back into art production I took a day to reorganize.

Then I decided that I needed to do a little research about hexagons, look into their symbolism.  Without the Christmas break I would have forged on with my head down and brow furrowed, painting away...

It was time to hit the search engine.  Things got interesting quickly.

First, some general connotations:  communication, interfacing, union (consider honeycombs and bee society), and balance.  Then GOLD:  The elongated hexagon that I’ve been working with was a variation of  “The Tree of Life.”

As a Christian, this floored me!  I was steamrolling with this image; producing it over and over again in various forms, like the guy in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”.  Then finding out its meaning…!  

This studio experience is good example of God’s “still small voice.”  (Check out 1^st Kings 19:11-12)  You are motivated, you know it’s right, you aren’t struggling with it, you’re producing.  And you’re clueless!  That’s one of the best parts!  Then you find out what you’re doing, and THAT’S the best part!

Go boldly forward.  If the creative urge is that strong then do yourself the favor of following it.  In fact, push it!  Believe that it will become clear in due time, that what you are doing is meaningful; even if you don’t understand it now.

Greater forces are at work.

http://jtnwdc.wix.com/jamesthatcherarts

ARTIST'S STATEMENT

Jesus said that out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.  I believe this and extend it to all communication, including visual art.  The random techniques of Abstract Expressionism and Surrealism express directly the joie de vivre abundant within me by the Holy Spirit.  

However, in recent pieces imagery is reduced to panels of texture, bridging into a gritty form of Minimalism.  Whether chunky or slick, the materials are being emphasized and are more expressive in spite of the paintings increasingly stoic forms. 

I edit heavily.   I pile on paint and thickly textural elements like leaves, grasses or bark.  The latest works feature hay from my dairy barn studio and cat tails gathered from marshes in upstate New York.  I use local elements as a way of assimilating my environment and regional culture. 

After embedding these elements into the paint I scrape off what I can.  Of what remains, I isolate the lines and shapes that are the essence of the chaotic underpainting.  The experience and process of this discovery motivates my creative urge.  I look for surprise in materials, process and imagery, as surprise is the beginning of delight!

Here's the latest!

 

"Towards Disappearing" A Painting by Sam Francis, 1957, Los Angeles County Museum of Art

 I really love this painting!  I’ve never seen it before, and figured it was by Helen Frankenthaler.  The wash that was under the opaque brushwork looked like stains seeping out from the heavier paint.  I only associate that effect with Frankenthaler, but all that open space…the brushwork relative to the size of the painting was underscaled, but the composition—its critical groupings of shapes, brushwork, and spatters was so unusual! 

 

What does it take for a painting to strike you as weird? “Towards Disappearing” by Sam Francis is very pleasing in its sparseness, but perhaps the placement of its parts is not entirely precise—everything is roughed in by the transparent blue wash, then brushed over with heavier paint; but the unusual balance, particularly from top to bottom wins. 

The blobs on either edge of the canvas are perhaps too obvious in stretching the image to its full margin, but I refuse to belabor this point because of the sweetness of the main body. 

I find it easy to simply report the basics:  to look at the technique and process, believing that this tells about the painting.  "Towards Disappearing" illustrates the concept of a work being greater than the sum of its parts. 

This painting is more than the brushstrokes and qualities of the material.  It is more than Francis’ colors--they seem to be swallowed up by white canvas and then appear upon closer inspection; it is more than the many fine spatters of thrown liquid paint.  Technique doesn’t define this curious imagery.

The museum notes mention the artist’s travels to Paris and his encounter with Japanese art, and point out the simplicity of expression, the asymmetrical division of the space, the calligraphic quality of the brushwork and identity of the image.  This begins to open a door onto the work, but it is a genuinely weird painting. 

In Francis' painting the asymmetry, paint handling, the liquidity of the paint are its subject.  Its wash, drips/runs and fine splatters speak so to liquid characteristics—no impasto or thick film, no structure. 

And it doesn’t look like water lilies, birds, or anything--It's just a painting, not a painting of something.  Success!

For more on Sam Francis:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sam_Francis