Dayjobs, realjobs
February 16, 2010
She was about as far from my mental image of a wildlife painter as you can get, the classic nerd-in-glasses. Her work called to mind tramping up mountains, crampons in one hand, paintbrush in the other. Where else were you going to see the mountain goats she painted?
“Bighorn sheep,” she corrected idly, “Although I suppose they’re pretty closely related.” Her work glowed with life but was only a cherished hobby. In real life, she designs quality control processes for embedded operating systems.
In other words, world-class nerd. And she set me to thinking about people who only get in bed with their art at night, when they get home from work.
Come to the museum…
December 5, 2009
Juried competitions
November 15, 2009
You know all those stupid, persnickety, idiotic, officious entry rules that show organizers dream up just to ruin an artist’s day? And those smug, supercilious (and expensive) suggestions they make regarding your need for better photography, displays, artist statements, etc…?
Uhm… They’re pretty much on target. After pulling together a (very small) juried competition for a local exhibit, I take back everything I’ve ever, ever said about that stuff.
Well, 90 percent of it, anyway. I’ve only walked maybe five feet in a show organizer’s shoes but as usual it’s an invaluable perspective-changer. [Read more]
Artful in Seattle
November 13, 2009
I’m not often asked to be the muscle for somebody so when I am, it’s kinda neat. And what could be more fun than hauling glass in Seattle?
My friend Becky owns a gallery in downtown Portland (Fireborne, you should visit), which carries everything from little glass bugs to jewelry to big honkin’ sculpture. She’s getting ready for the Christmas rush, needed to clear out older pieces and bring in new, and wanted to make some exchanges in Seattle. Somebody had to schlep boxes and hold doors for her… was I interested?
Does cobalt turn glass blue?
The art of evolution
October 25, 2009
What’s the right level of evolution for an artist? (And I know, I know, it depends on the artist. Bear with me.)
I was invited to preview an opening for an artist I’ve admired for maybe 20 years. I eagerly slurped in the entire virtual show…and midway through it hit me: The work hadn’t demonstrably changed in 20 years.
I could put any image, from any time in this artist’s career, in the current show and it would fit right in. Be indistinguishable from the others, in fact. And I started wondering why.
Mendelssohn and PBO and me
October 23, 2009
Boy. Monica Huggett sure strokes a mean fiddle. Mom and Dad and I went to hear her (and the rest of the Portland Baroque Orchestra) tonight, playing Mendelssohn.
I’m not a huge Mendelssohn fan, although his music is undeniably pretty. Most of the time it reminds me of 1940s Bette Davis movies. Most people (IMHO) overplay it. Done well, though, it’s like the best Bette Davis movie you ever listened to. And tonight was done very well indeed.
I have a soft spot for a good fiddler, having played violin in my youth. Well, I should qualify that: I massacred violin in my youth. Along about the fifth grade I took up the violin with ambitions of being first seat, first violin in the school orchestra.
Open sesame
October 10, 2009
Day 1 of Portland Open Studios draws to a close and I’m hanging out in my usual space, tired and content. Did some selling, did lots of talking, introduced a bunch of people to pate de verre and actually got some stuff done, art-wise.
Undo-it-yourself
October 8, 2009
Paul hesitated. “Do you really need the stands for these pieces?” he asked, “I think they’d be more effective if I shot them on the table…”
So he laid a pate de verre panel down on the sweep instead of the neat metal stand I’d brought. He adjusted the lights, climbed up on a stool to take the shot, and transformed the entire piece. [Read more]
Conversations with light
September 24, 2009
Light and I have been in conversation as far back as I can remember. Most times, I just listen. Sometimes I get to talk back. Rarely–too rarely–we sing.
And it’s beginning to feel as though we’ll sing, soon.
When we sing, the light becomes a tangible thing, flowing like water, etching everything in its path, and I finally, blindingly, understand in my bones the definition of “illumination.”
Cooper-Bresson
September 17, 2009
OK, I get street photography, photojournalism, documentary photography, pictorialism, fotografie verité, but here’s a new one: Fotografie felinité.
You’ve probably already heard about him, but a cat named Cooper, living in Seattle, strolls the streets near his home weekly, with a small camera strapped to his neck. It snaps a shot every two seconds; later, the people he owns run through the images, select the ones they like, and publish them on his website for him.