Painting in a Pandemic

 Lately people have been asking if I am still painting.  The world has been in turmoil for a while now, however most of us artists just carry on as usual.  We go to our studios and pick up a paintbrush or whatever is our favourite tool. 

After I sent my paintings to Newzones Gallery in Calgary for my landscape show in March (yes, that March and no I wasn’t able to attend the opening), I returned to a series that I had started in 2019.  The subject is something new for me, or new/old.  Years ago I painted flowers, flowers by themselves or flowers in still lifes.  I had some success with those paintings and was very happy with them.  Eventually though I decided that I couldn’t compete with nature, nature had more sophisticated tools than I had, and I turned aside from that challenge.

 

It seems that this past decade of exploring colour – and simplifying detail to do so – has somehow led me full circle, however. Looking for a new starting point I started tentatively thinking of flowers again. In the same way that I had simplified the landscape, I saw how the flowers could be a beginning. This wouldn’t be an attempt at verisimilitude; this series isn’t really ‘of’ flowers.  The flowers with their radiance and intensity initiate the act of putting paint on canvas but they don’t control the result. The result has more to do with the curious act of ‘painting’, playing with hue, surface texture and markmaking.

You can see Neil Wedman's essay in my previous post.  He explains it much better than I can do.

Reading About Other Artists

I have read quite a few good books about artists lately.  There are so many biographies around now, fat books that take a long time to read.  I find them fascinating; it is endlessly interesting to read about the struggles and the successes.  'Lee Krasner, a Biography' by Gail Levin; 'Agnes Martin Pioneer, Painter, Icon' by Henry Martin; 'Edward Hopper An Intimate Biography' by Gail Levin; 'Joan Mitchell Lady Painter' by Patricia Albers are examples of the many you can find in your favourite bookstores (mine happens to be Pulpfiction Books on Main Street here in Vancouver - or if you are in the depths of Kerrisdale, Hager Books will find them for you).

'Ninth Street Women' is a heavy tome that was sitting on my friend Bob Christie's desk when I was in Saskatoon a while ago.  Pretty soon it was sitting on my desk also.  The author Mary Gabriel chronicles the lives of female artists who were very involved in the abstract expressionist movement but didn't get the attention the guys got.  Now it seems to be their time - some fabulous paintings are hitting the auctions with great success.

Myself, sometimes I feel like an imposter because I didn't go to art school and didn't start painting until I was over 20.   That was not the problem with these artists.  They were fully engaged in the process of painting and learning to paint and figuring out how to get better from an early age and completely committed to the challenge.  They were driven in a powerful way to make canvases, engaging new and innovative ways to put down the paint.

Trees turning into Paintings

I am just packing to drive up to Edmonton for my exhibition there, "Totems", opening July 9, this Saturday at the Scott Gallery.  There will be lots to see on the way, some of my favourite scenery and sources of inspiration.

To elaborate on how 'trees' can become paintings, here is an example of what can happen.

This:

can become this:

Or this:

could become this:

Influences

Recently someone asked me who were the artists I looked back on; which were the ones who had influenced me.  There are so many that I can't even begin to say this one or that one was crucial to the course I took in my work.  Here are a few who are presently tacked to my studio wall:

Agnes Martin; Georges Braque; Paul Cezanne; and Paul Flandrin. You can what they have taught me, whether it be in the trees I have painted, the road trips, the lakes, or anything else.