Folk Art Diary: A Focus

When viewing my own or any painting, my first response is always 'Where do I focus?' How is the composition organized? Did the artist's paint brush play traffic cop?
Not that all paintings have to have a focus. One thing I love about 'art' is it should be malleable enough to break all assumptions. Keeping it from being a science.

'Summer Shower' acrylic on barn boards ©robinrkent

Sometimes a painting's focus can be an only child: simple, quiet, and clean; or surrounded by a tribe of secondary and tertiary siblings: clamoring but supportive.
Most times I don't want to be confused on where to start. Searching where the strength lies. Where the initial wow factor emanates. Just show me. Life is tough enough.
Other times I need the search. Like a mystery novel, unwinding clues, finding the main thread, sitting back and seeing how it came together. The aha factor. I appreciate getting there.
The focus of this painting is obvious. It's simplistic and busy with lots of elements to look at. This is as detailed as I ever get. Maybe a little much, but some gardeners would approve: more is never enough.

Folk Art Diary: Reading My Art Through A Squinty Eye

There are a few points I try to accomplish when working on a painting or assemblage. When I've nailed them (figuratively speaking), I'm done. Here's the first in yet another series of how to read my art:

'Sainted Mother' assemblage w/shadowbox ©robinrkent

After I get a rough drawing in place, I analyze my light to dark palette. Not only for color, but for tones and shades as well. This is done using squinty eyes. There is something to be said for bad glasses (or eyesight). It takes out all the details (good riddance in my opinion) and leaves the foundation exposed.
Everyone should buy a pair of glasses with the wrong prescription if you're not lucky enough to have bad eyes of your own.
Anyway...
As much as I like bright colors, toned down versions are the best. I don't use a true 'red' in my palette. I like a rust-red better.  This might be due to my nod to folk art.
I try to keep my colors well rounded to include a balance so the image doesn't read all warm, or cool, or dark or light...
Stay tuned for part 2 next week. I'm on a 'Robin's Elements of (Art) Style' roll now, or to paraphrase a favorite musician, Leo Kottke, I'm going to take a lovely simple (painting technique) and drive it into the ground...

My House as Muse

I finished my acrylic fish painting to go with the two fish assemblages for my downstairs bath (May 5th post). But I'm not sure it works in this space. It might belong in a gallery, even though it is what I had envisioned. The room is just too small: 6 x 8' for such a relatively big painting: 22.5 x 26.5".
   

'Catching Fish'  Acrylic on Canvas   ©robinrkent

Here it is on the bathroom wall.

Maybe primping in a mirror a la Picasso's 'Girl Before A Mirror' might be a better subject...will give that a try.
I didn't know I'd come up with so many painting options for a bathroom wall.



I just moved my treadmill to a closet-sized nook: Marathon runners for that area might be good.

My next body of work could turn into: 'From Bath to Basement: Painting Inspirations From The Rooms of My House.'  We'll see.

Graphic Designer As Painter

As a young child I was mesmerized by my Mother's Stangl pottery. The living room's Caucasian rug would entertain me for hours. My eyes would follow the lines and angles under pared down compositions typical in folk art designs. I was a fan. I didn't know it would be a life calling.

Early design inspirations: Stangl & 40's textiles      ©robinrkent

In a former life, I was a graphic designer. That term covers much: Art Director for a lifestyle magazine, Paste-up Artist (rubber cement, anyone?), A Stripper in prepress, Advertising Layout Artist. The thread was the graphic part of graphic design.
It continues to influence me.  It was such an early hands on education. I hope my artwork reflects that charisma today.

Early Summer Morning Mantra

I hear the robins chirping their 2 syllable tune over and over again in the early morning when all is still and there is no traffic. Their tune echos over all the other chirps. There is an underwater resonance about it that lingers in the air. This is the cats favorite time. They sit like sculptures concentrating on every note. I love the hour before daybreak. Just to sit and listen.

  'On the Lake'  acrylic on wood wall relief     ©robinrkent

More people are here Memorial Day weekend, ready to start their summer lives. The farmers market has begun, the art project (post 4/7) had its opening, music and other venues are ready.
The quiet won't last long. In half an hour things will completely change. And summer's heat will soon be sliding in.

Favorite Artists, part one

From previous generations or present day colleagues, there are artists that resonate with me. Finally got to a point where I can look at work and know immediately if it's for me or not. As much as I love my category (contemporary folk, outsider, naive or brut art), not all are my cup of tea. But the art I like in whatever category ( abstract, representational; painters, sculptors, assemblage artists, etc.) I love!  I see a common thread. Even if the medium and eras are different.

Milton Avery, 'Conversation'  (courtesy bjws blog)

I wake up daily to my print of 'Conversation' (1956) by Milton Avery. What a great way to greet the day. Never tire of looking at it. I like the simple edited form, large feeling of volume, subtle colorful colors (the color is off on this image).
I feel I can mentally paint along side him when I look at his work. Here's the best site I've found so far on him:

http://bjws.blogspot.com/2011/04/paintings-of-american-milton-avery-1888.html  

I'll add more of my favorites in future posts. Who do you love?

Shad bush and shad fish

I see the shad bushes blooming here in Vermont: lacy white flowers stand out on distant hills as I travel along the road. I know then the shad are also running on Cape Cod, where I used to live. It's as if the Vermont trees have a direct line to the Cape fish: keeping me informed of what's going on in my old neighborhood, reminding me the time to witness the fish run is now.

Bathroom Trophy Fish (for over the mirror)     ©robinrkent

I've smelled the briny air and heard the herring as they flip up the river to spawn in Harwich's Grist Mill pool. They sounded like a marble rolling through a pipe when clearing the step against the flow.
Now I'm fishing for art to hang in my small turquoise bathroom (previous post). Hopefully no fish will be jumping up any steps here. That would be quite a surprise, I'd imagine.
(I'll post the painting I'm working on for the space of honor - over the throne - when completed.)