This 'Old' Folk In Contemporary Folk Art

This year being more than 'half course through its run,' I'm in a reminiscing mode. Or maybe this happens more as you age. A better file to rifle through?

'Old Woman on Bus' from my (early) sketchbook, 1975

I reflected on a comment shared by a show Director. He was told: 'they really liked my work' but were surprised to learn 'I wasn't a young artist.' They thought I was more 'hipper' than 'geezer.' Guess not.

Hints are offered when viewing artwork. And many opinions assumed by viewers. There are no wrong answers; make of it whatever your imagination wants. Until you float back into reality.

I love Matisse's cut outs. So bright, uncomplicated, childlike. He didn't start this technique until ill, 15 years before his death. Who'd know?

Maybe the soul comes through when creating art. It is a form of communication. Just depends on the receiver's interpretation -  and a timeless meeting of the minds?

Folk Art Diary: The Texture Behind The Paint

This is the third Folk Art Diary post on 'Robin's Elements of Art'

I like what texture does. It gives both a tactile and visual thrill. The tactile sense is a side benefit while creating the visual. Most classical painters enjoy the 'bouncy give' between brush and canvas. Feeling brush vibrations while scumbling (scrubbing for you folk art types) as I paint over rough cut planks is an additional sensation. Sometimes the process emits a sound if a really rough board (think jug band washboard effect). 

'Tumble Home'      Acrylic on Rough Wood          ©robin r kent

The visual effect on a layered surface is somewhat harder to  control. And a good thing it is. Especially when allowing an under-painted color to show through, blending and altering the top layer. Pretty amazing stuff, even for the painter. The  more you try this, of course, the more control over the outcome.
Pastel artists, when painting on sandpaper, use the tactile/texture theory in smaller scale (manicure multitasking?). Graffiti artists, I imagine, must love seeing a stucco building.

Folk Art Diary: Artist's Sketchbooks and Recipe Files

'Bouillabaisse' Assemblage Shadowbox,
wood with acrylic paint

©2011 robin r kent

Sketchbooks are like photo albums of your past. 
I have one from a lifetime ago when I traveled with little money but carried a big, beautiful, oversized, black, bound, blank sketchbook. It was intimidating putting the first mark in it. Didn't want to ruin it. Now glad I did.  
Funny how I remember sketching on each page. Hot or cold, sunny or grey, company or alone. Even remember friends' side comments while drawing. Recalling those conversations now give new meaning to what was said then. The years added gravitas to flippant remarks. All recalled while I look at these drawings. Didn't realize the peripherals were being recorded, too.


My recipe file evokes a similar nostalgia with handwritten recipes from friends and relations. The Palmer method script my grandmother used to explain how to make cinnamon buns. Many have departed, but their personalities remain written in these formulas now found under spatter stains. I see them puttering in the kitchen, pointing out culinary secrets as they stir. 

Folk Art Diary: A Trip To The Candy er, Hardware Store

'Milkman' folk sculpture

©robin r kent

I remember being dragged along as a six year old or so, doing Saturday errands with my father. One of the most dreaded stops for me was the hardware store. 'Too much stuff with too little color (dull grey), and what was the point of it all?,' I thought. How boring.
When I grew up I found myself still as the companion in hardware store stops. My energy immediately drained when we hit the threshold. It was a man's world in my mind. Let's get outta here. How boring.
But as I grew into creating contemporary folk art, I found I was missing the tools and thing-ys needed to make the wood sculpture and assemblages do what I wanted.  I gradually understood those thing-ys had names and functions.
Come to think of it, the workbench in my family's basement belonged to my grandmother. She was the daughter of a Swedish boatbuilder turned carpenter. Must have some of that dna. My favorite childhood toy was the wooden cobbler's shoe: you'd bang the (colorfully painted) dowels down into the sole and then flip it over and hammer again.

Self Portrait with Tools

©robin r kent

It all began to fit together. Um, maybe not so boring.......

I started to notice what a difference 1/4 inch of a screw length can make when it bores into your palm. Or how a dull bandsaw blade can set off the fire alarm without any notice.* And the classic purple thumbnail caused by a misguided hammer, or my favorite moniker for it's cousin: 'the persuader'.  No wonder they call some folk art 'naif' or 'naive art' and 'art brut.' Not boring at all.
My bookkeeper thinks it funny that under 'Artist Supplies' I have the following listed:
band saw blades, exterior screws, fastener bits, panel nails, washers, baling wire. Well, bailing wire in Vermont, anyway. All these little silver thing-ys have a function.  When I see them now in their boxes hanging on the store display, I can picture them already doing their job.

Glad to be part of a profession where some of it's skill comes from evolution and intuition. How 'bout you?

*It lends an atmospheric mood to the shop with low hanging clouds of smoke - a similar ambience can be found in my kitchen while I sear a steak in a cast iron pan.)