Almost Ready

(Yeah, that's Tilda Swinton (again). She keeps popping up, this time on our ceiling. Don't ask.)
I'm almost ready to begin working in my studio again. Almost. I have loads of ideas, which I have been jotting down on envelopes and bits of scrap paper at work but I haven't been (seriously) in my studio for three weeks. I entered last Thursday and cracked my skylights and opened a window but just wasn't feeling it. And then my muses growled at me so I went out to do some gardening instead.
I guess it makes total sense. I worked so hard, doing three shows this late Winter and Spring, I know my artistic muscles just need a break. And it's been a good and well deserved vacation!
I know I've suggested that we artists are not factories and there is truth in that. But we do get asked (constantly) to "show only your newest and bestest work". Whatever!
So I'm obviously brimming over with new ideas (Womp Womp) and entertaining possible type-faces and fonts in my mind, but I'm not committing anything to fabric yet. I'm also toying with the next artist's book which will be an intense contemplation on income disparity. Lots to ponder there!
The other thing that's been keeping me going and making me happy (besides Bob and Robin and even cranky lame ol' Maggie) is gardening. Yes, we suffered mighty set backs from that blasted tornado paying an unwelcome visit, but every few days brings another load of logs removed from yet another garden bed and more liberated lawn. My shoulders ache tonight, but it was refreshing to be able to walk directly across the yard and not have to take an enormous detour around the felled giant of a pine tree. Hooray for Bob and the new chain saw!
I know it's obvious, but boy do I love plants and gardening. I have been constructing a birthday wish list and it's all plant material. I think I suddenly discovered all the cool colors and shapes that conifers come in: lumps! bumps! comes! shafts! pyramids! blobs! pancakes! It's exhilarating. I am especially drawn to round mounds this early summer. Maybe I've explored tall narrow forms enough for a while and realize I have no mounded evergreens at all. And space! I do have more space to play with now that those trees have fallen... endless possibilities.
Wish us luck.. The tree removal men are due on Wednesday. I don't even remember what the house looks like with trees resting on it. And we have a spectacular idea in store for the stumps... stay tuned!

Off to the Wilds of New York

It's hard to leave the beauty and innocence of nature and our country (well, suburban) abode to venture into Manhattan, but tomorrow we must do just that. Never mind that it's going to be over 90 degrees, and humid to boot... the "art world" beckons.
I am showing in a gallery on the Lower East Side. Get this: there are 110 other artists in the show besides me.  This is going to be some opening as even if only two-thirds of the artists showing come and bring one friend, the galley will be packed. Actually, anyone wandering by that considers coming into the gallery will probably think better, turn tail and run as that many people squeezed into even a moderately sized space on an overheated day is crazy.  Forget the air conditioning, Mercury is probably retrograde and the machinery will collapse under the strain and the space will be filled hundreds of red-faced, perspiring artists and their supporters. Pleasant!
But would I miss this experience? It's another line on the resume and a chance to make nice with whatever art world powers that be! Bring on the moist towelettes!

(Seems to be showing in Gallerie Kenmore, no?)
Where was I? Ah yes, musing on the vagaries of the art world. My small corner of the art world is an interesting place. Everyone is jockeying for perceived position and there is much feinting (probably fainting, too!) and circling and sizing things up. There are many, many, many artists. And have I mentioned? Not nearly so many galleries, or alternative spaces or prospects for all those many artists. This is (partially) what keeps artists circling each other, appraising each others relative standing. And the system of galleries and critics and curators and power brokers know this. Only a limited number of all the many artists will be anointed the next Big Thing and will have their work coveted and collected. The rest of us endlessly circle around, sniffing and snapping and hoping to be found out to be geniuses we know we all are. Sometimes this is mildly entertaining; sometimes it's mighty annoying. But this is the world we operate in an there's little hope of changing it.
So it's off to NYC for me and Bob... let's just hope they provide moist towelettes at the opening!

Some of Rita's Musings on Artists Books

Here's an image from "Better Guns and Gardens", my artists book of the hour as the show at Artspace, CT (Un) Bound opens tonight! This has led to a loose collection of thoughts about artists books. We were walked through the show at Artspace and an associated show of artists books at Yale. Certain themes spring to mind while considering the realm of artists books...
First is that my books don't really resemble many of the other artists books. Many artists books are "one offs" as in so-called altered books (taking a pre-existing volume and manipulating it, often through carving into it or shredding it), or high end, fine letter press type set books that seem to want to lovingly replicate earlier volumes, or "books" made out of ropes or glass or conceptual materials. Many artists books seem to exist as single idea repositories- like the book that has wheels and looks like a model car. Or the book that has a bolt and a lock through it. Many don't even have pages.
Of the books that have multiple pages, many are shown only open to a single double page spread and remain that way until a curator or museum official comes through, dons gloves and turns it to another page. Almost all the books- single ideas, cut, sliced, riced and diced reside in vitrines where you can look, but not touch.
Herein lies one of my issues (and you knew I had to have one or two!). These books lie there, shrouded under glass or plexi, like so many patients in isolation or premature infants in incubators. They're like invalids that require oxygen and sterile conditions to live. (And in the off chance that you can handle the book, you are required to wear white gloves to protect the book from your grubby mitts.)  I find this peculiar, off putting and very contradictory.

Books, by their very definition (except those made by solitary monks in sequestered monasteries) are democratic. They're relatively cheap, mass produced and available. This is what makes knowledge accessible and dangerous. Even artists books seem more comfortable existing in editions- however small. They are meant to be picked up, poured over and handled. You really can't do this with any other art form. Paintings, drawings, sculptures are all on pedestals and in frames and your eyes can walk over them and you can physically move around them but you don't pick them up. They're not portable (generally speaking!).
Artists books, on the other hand call out to be fondled. I was the only artist at the show yesterday who's work was made to be picked up and groped. We all stood looking longingly at several of the books housed in glass sarcophagus, and collectively sighed how nice it would be to see the next page. But you can't... I understand why this is not always practical (too much finger dirt, people sneezing and oozing on the page) but it's unfortunate. We all know the artist handled their own books- without those white gloves- and passed it around at parties to their friends. But once collected, most artists books are doomed to an early death.
Here's where I step in. All of my books are made of indestructible materials like plastic and packing tape. Drooled on the book? Wipe it clean! Tore a page? Stick another piece of tape on it! And the fact that they're most often laser and photo copied at a large copy center only makes them more affordable. I say, bring on the man and woman handle-able artist book!

A Tease and a Discussion of Art Making

This is where I have been spending what feels like nearly every waking minute (that I'm not at job/work.) I have been a very dedicated studio artist, doing what seems like a year's worth of collage and art making compressed into three or four months. But this book project is almost done and it gives me a moment to reflect on the process...
It is very interesting to see the difference in my own working habits when they're linked to a specific show, and a funding source. Typically, I do a bunch of pieces and I have total control. If I get bored or an idea runs into a wall and I no longer am compelled by it, I can abandon it or put it down temporarily. In a case like this one, where I have actually received working money up front, I am expected/required to provide a finished project. Very different!
I am fortunate that the ideas I've been exploring have come fast and furious and my interest has been sustained because I'd be in deep shit if I hadn't wanted to complete the project. I am assuming this does indeed happen. I can imagine having "the well run dry" half way into something, and thinking, "What a waste of time! How on earth am I going to finish this mess!" Like I say, I'm lucky that hasn't happened, but I will allow that I am tired of working so exclusively on one piece and I am very glad to be almost done.

So here's the book, Better Guns and Gardens, spread out over my auxiliary table. That's a tease, alright as I don't think you can see too much at this small a scale except that, yes, it does exist! All I have left to do is finish editing one "article" and finish up my "outro" (what I like to call my conclusion, being the opposite of an "intro"). Parts of it are pretty funny and I'm assuming parts of it aren't, because it's hard to be consistently funny. But lord knows I tried and in general, I am very happy with it. I have a roughly mocked up edition that I keep jiggling; I need to get the order of the pages just right. But the end is nigh!
Again, the freedom afforded me if I do work simply to please myself is great but as I make a lot of work, I don't often get to exhibit/show all of what I do. Much of it lingers in squalid oblivion in a drawer of my flat file and only gets viewed by the occasional fortunate friend. Even the grants I have received in the past didn't stipulate a particular body of work or "themed exercise"; this has been different.
I'm not attempting to draw hard conclusions here about whether one experience is "better" than the other. Really, I'm just reflecting on two different modes of working. I think, ultimately, I'd love to be able to be in my studio full time and not have to interrupt my studio work with the necessity of making a living. I've been luckier than some artists. I can honestly say I've made part of my income form my art! And I can't wait until I get installment #2 from this project so that I can buy Bob and I a new computer...
And oh boy! I have another project for the show in NYC to finish. Guess I know what I'll be doing until January!