Dude, Who Painted my Car? Art Quiz 4

My car is white.  I think if I had a choice I might paint it green, lime green. Lately cars have been getting less and less colourful.  This quiz is based on some BMW’s that have been given a coat by some major artists. Ready to give it a spin? Put yourself into gear and put you fingers to the metal. See if you can match the artist to the car.

I would say that BMW may just supply the artist with a car but I’m afraid there are no prizes in this game except for the absolute glory of getting past the winning flag. Give it a try and click here
After the quiz you can click on this link and see how you fared.

http://www.bmwdrives.com/bmw-artcars.php

Dishwashing, Driving & Existentialism

I used to think that miraculous trains of thought came to me whilst driving but I realised this morning -it is also dishwashing. My good friend Eva did a portrait of me whilst I was thinking in the same way.  I pull a particular sort of face, one I liken to a cats bottom and my mum’s pout when she watched “Days of our Lives”.

Removing purple cabbage leftovers from a spotty red plate made me wonder why we connect differently with works.  Yesterday I was agape at the work of Elisabeth Cummings at the SH Ervin. Three of us stood in reverence before each painting, studying technique, oohing at colour and not wanting to leave.

On the way out I overheard a women say “now Tim Storrier was a good painter.”  I had to restrain myself from inserting two fingers into her nostrils, firmly hooked and dragging her to each work to explain the intricacies, to explain to her the absolute knowledge of paint, to explain to her what appears as just a mark is an act of extraordinary bravery.

The dishwashing today made me realise Tim Storrier is a good painter and so is Elisabeth Cummings, we all have a different sense of connection to painters and often at different times.

The cabbage and my hostility came off and left me with a fresh lemon sparkle of self-awareness. Perhaps you would like to read John McDonald’s take on the Luminous Exhibition, a great review.  I wonder if he has a dishwasher?

Legs like a thoroughbred racehorse

Yesterday was a remarkable day.  It began with listening to an interview on the radio about lifesaving.  My ears tweaked..Dad was a beach inspector and the historian was looking for information. After a flurry of emails and phone calls I related my Dad’s story.

I always saw him as special but to hear of his reputation as a “Waterman” was delightful.  A term dubbed by the South Africans of Derban Beach for men that could take on any surf. A term of respect by lifesavers around the world.

I painted this work quite some years ago. It was an important painting to me, the beginning of my Windang series, my look back that is still yet to be completed. Dad was a huge man 6ft 3, legs like a thoroughbred racehouse. As a small child I was always running behind, viewing the world between two long neverending pink legs or propped from above, perched on shoulders riding the surf.

Trolling through Dad’s photos, clippings and ephemera his world encompassed the beach, stockman at Carpentaria Downs, shearer, Kokoda, steelworker, businessman and boatsman.   I’m sure Dad would think that this is an ordinary life, I think more like an extraordinary man.

A Big Pink Painting & Bare Bones

Sydney is alive with Elisabeth pink.  Luminous Landscapes at the SH Ervin and Monotypes at King St on William.  Her monotypes are the skeletons ,the bare bones  of her work. We get to see her paintings in a state of undress.  As a celebration I have edited this post that I originally wrote a long time ago. It goes like this……..

My first Elisabeth Cummings was a huge pink job.  I walked into an exhibition of works held by the Shoalhaven City Council; the odd local landmarks, a few portraits and then wham! The Wedderburn Bush.  A Cummings completed in the 70’s.  Not only was I drawn by the size and colour, it was the clarity of the bush that I had seen in Fred Williams.  A simplicity that captured the essence- Whiteley called it Quiditass.

Since then I have delved further looking for her influences in the effort to understand what I want– try and follow the path in the hope that the paint comes off and I find her primer- what has driven her to that point.  It turned out to be not a path but a bit of crazy paving.  One artist led to the next –Whisson, Fairweather, Bonnard & Cezanne until I’m back where I started.    Cumming’s Arakoola Landscape at the AGNSW has allowed me to study the technical process in the same way I’ve looked at De Kooning, Olsen and Tony Tuckson at the NGA.  Studying slashes of thick seemingly unpredicted colour over delicately built glazes.  Unexpected marks in response to an observation. I feel that there is an advantage being a regional artist, the limited exposure to these important artists means that I have to work harder at finding my own way through paint.  My influences are my own environment and the subject at hand.  My paintings are the result of intuition and bravery and willingness to accept a loss.  By studying Cumming’s works I will still never know whether that shard of Bonnardish colour was a confident knowledgable action or an instinctive reaction.

The Results are In..Artist or Housewife.

Well you all did pretty good on this one- ARTIST OR HOUSEWIFE QUIZ quite a few topping the 100%. USA & Australia topping the polls. I didn’t get anyone that took the chance to name the artists or housewives so no bonus points. I’m sure Martha Stewart would rather have been called an artist but she was indeed one of the housewives.

 

And those of you who picked my daughter as a housewife -you know who you are!- deduct 50% off your score.

If you still want to take a punt don’t read any further, NO PEEKING. Click on the link. If you want to take a stab at who they are make a comment. Remember it’s anonymous if you want.**** SPOILER ALERT READ NO FURTHER****

ANSWERS

1.

ARTIST : Margaret Olley

2.

HOUSEWIFE: Margaret Fulton (Chef/Cook)

3.

ARTIST: My beautiful daughter (Graphic Artist/Zinester)

4.

HOUSEWIFE: Martha Stewart

5.

ARTIST: Alice Neel (Painter)

6.

ARTIST: Helen Frankenthaler (innovating painter, RIP)

A Bird & A Brush…and my can of worms.

It’s not long until my painting pal Carla has her first solo exhibition. Today I am off to help her at last. Openings at any stage are a gut wrenching time but I can’t imagine the nerves of a solo show. I don’t feel able to cope with that yet and don’t know whether I will. I did try once, Rock’d and it was too close to the bone at that time. I admire her bravery and her determination with works.

She too has been inspired by the desert like myself and many artists but it is so much more for her. She travels out there on a regular basis for months at a time from her beautiful mountain home. When I went to the desert out of Alice Springs, she was at Lake Eyre where they had water for the first time in so long.  She is dedicated to nurturing wildlife and  cares for injured reptiles and birds for WIRES. Birds are her love, her passion as well as paint.  Hopefully her story will be told through this body of work.

Santa Should use a Typewriter, A writer’s quiz #4

It was a vintage typewriter that gave away the secret of Santa.  I guess I was about eight or so, I had desperately wanted a typewriter for Christmas from Santa. The generous old man that he was led to Christmas morning under the old silver foil tree decorated with purply glass grape lights, a very old typewriter with a piece of lovely white paper rolled ready -waiting. The paper turned out to be a note from Santa, it said this was a special typewriter, “your grandfather’s whom you had not known, take very good care of it”.

The note was not typed by Santa, perhaps he had prepared the note before getting the typewriter from grandfather? Perhaps it was that sticky “S” key that didn’t ever quite reach the paper with enough force? There was however something familiar about the scratchy blue writing.  Grandfather had been a police sergeant, like his father before him. Obviously those powers of deduction had reached down the generational line and grabbed me that morning and shook the slowly dawning sensation that the note was in Dad’s writing! He was Santa! There was no Santa! I never asked why he had written that note rather than typed it, perhaps I would have been woken by the gentle tap, tap, tapping. You could never mistake typing for hooves on roofs. Dad wasn’t a policeman or detective like his brother, or a writer like his brother Ian but he was inventive, creative and would admire the way Typewriters can be used in art.

Typewriters still are used in our home so it was with great delight when I saw a cover of a magazine with an array of models and thought I would base my next quiz on this topic.  Whose Typewriter is This?

Thank you to Benjamin Law  &  Amanda Austin for their article in Smith Journal -the Frankiepress

Pens,Pencils & Men with Moustaches

There is a secret society of Pens & Pencils, famous artists that meet at the SH Ervin Gallery. We can only hazard a guess at who they may be -the pencils are the younger members and the pens the elders of the group.  I recently read another wonderful article Palettes Loaded and Lines Drawn by Nick O’Malley regarding another meeting of creative minds, Book Club.  One of the members,  Noel McKenna has been a long time favourite artist of mine and I am a proud owner of a small sketch of his that was made in a swap at the Museum of Contemporary Art Sydney. I was drawn to this article due to my recent visit to the Ken Done Gallery in the Rocks. Ken Done, another member has long been poo-pooed by the art world but his recent  paintings screamed light and colour and looking at them made me happy.  That’s what it’s about. I’m all for angst and there is nothing better than a Kathe Kollowitz sketch but I’ve snorkeled at the Great Barrier Reef and to capture that is pure joy. There is nothing wrong with happiness in art.

Their meetings sound like pure joy as well. I wanted to share this article, my own little bit of show and tell.

Cows Make the Best Art Critics

It began with cows at Bundanon.  The track from the river back to the studio through the paddocks.  I would spend hours not talking with anyone, the cows would look intent, like they had something to say so I asked.  The wombats weren’t good art critics. They would amble hurriedly away or disappear down the hole looking disappointed at my efforts.  Their ability to put poo on a rock summed it up – they were sculptors and looked at my work as being too flat. Maybe they’re right.

Possums have given me mixed messages -they are like the art teachers who can’t help but put a mark on your work, not that I am opposed to that  -there has been evidence of nibbling, delicate foortprints in charcoal and the curl of a tail disappearing in the rafters when I turn the key.

A scene in Frida a movie on the life of Frida Kahlo showed Diego Rivera’s dog pissing on a canvas “he’s always my best critic”. Dogs are upfront. Cows chew their cud and mull it over.  They throw the onus back to me as the painter -”Fix it, it’s that simple”

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 6,600 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.