Showing posts with label Art History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art History. Show all posts

Monday, April 21, 2014

Master Copies in Marker

I recently went to the MFA and tried an experiment I have been meaning to try: copying famous paintings in marker. It was challenging and interesting and I am definitely going to continue. Turns out half-dry markers are great for copying impressionists! Very painterly.

"Ballet Dancer with Arms Crossed"
Edward Degas

Detail of a mural
John Singer-Sargent


"Lilith"
Kiki Smith


"Still Life with Three Skulls"
Max Beckmann


Detail from "Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?"
Paul Gauguin


"A Capriote"
John Singer-Sargent


Sunday, May 19, 2013

The Spanish Conquest of Mexico in 32 Square Feet

I usually focus on current artwork and projects in this blog, but sometimes I like to pull something out of the past and that is what I'm doing in this post. 

In the Fall of 2008 I participated in Earlham College's study abroad program in Mexico. A group of students and professors from Earlham spent about four months in Cuautla, Morelos, a two hour or so drive south of Mexico City. It was a really fantastic and challenging semester and I would go back in a heartbeat. We took courses in Spanish, 20th century Mexican History, Mexican Literature, The Economic and Environmental Issues that Mexico currently faces, and Social Movements from the last three decades. I stayed with a welcoming and lovely host family and I got the opportunity to travel to Oaxaca, Puebla, Guanajuato, San Miguel de Allende, Cuernavaca, and Guererro during my time there. I didn't see a single beach though, which seems silly since Mexico is known for its beautiful beaches, but I went back in the Fall of 2011 and did the beaches. 

Each of us also had an internship or field placement that allowed us to get involved with an aspect of the community such as schools, markets, stores, in one case a bicycle repair shop. My field placement was working with local artist Rolando Guillermoprieto on a 4' x 8' mural telling the story of the Conquest of Mexico by the Spanish in the early 1500's. It was an incredibly violent conflict, but our focus was really of the clash of ideas, cultures, and traditions, and the later fusion of Spanish and Mexican cultures. It was one of my absolute favorite aspects of the semester and probably one of the coolest things I've done in my life thus far. 

The picture below is the finished mural. I completed the semester by writing a 20 page paper in Spanish about the mural's iconography, the history it represents, and the process of painting it. I am just going to summarize it for you in English!


Long before we arrived at this finished piece, we created sketches of all the different aspects of the mural. Most details were planned out in advance but of course some evolved as we went.


These are my sketches of Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent god with his human form emerging from the mouth of the serpent.


I also did a drawing of Tenochtitlán, the Aztec floating city. The lake has long been filled in and is now Mexico City. When the Spanish first arrived, Tenochtitlán was estimated to have a population of about 300,000 people-- larger than any city in Europe at the time. The Conquistadors would never have seen anything like this before.


Rolando and I collaborated on the representation of Tenochtitlán in the finished piece:


There are multiple ways you can read this mural-- the first is the seascape at the bottom of the composition. On the left, we have the so called "New World" (a problematic term, but that was how the Europeans saw it) and on the right are the Spanish ships making their way West. This is also a reference to maps, where West is usually to the left with East is to the right. In the sky we have masks from different cultures in Mexican history. From left to right: Olmec, Maya, early Tenochtitlán, Toltec, and two Aztec masks. I totally painted all those masks. I was super proud of them. I also painted the clear blue sky. Rolando painted the dark sky on the right representing the approaching conflicts with the Spanish. In the sky above the ships are horses, which the Spanish brought to the Americas. They also reference the double meaning of "nightmares," again speaking to the impending conflict.


The circle on the far right also represents the clash of the powerful Aztec and Spanish cultures in the form of the meeting of Quetzalcoatl with Hernan Cortes. Cortes was the leader of the Conquistadors and in fact Moctezuma II, the Aztec ruler at the time welcomed him and his men, believing that they were incarnations of Gods or characters from an Aztec legend. Did you see the cartoon film The Road to El Dorado? I mean, we could deconstruct a whole lot of mis-representations and stuff in that movie, but the idea for the plot line didn't come from nowhere.   


The center circle is a face off between Moctezuma II and Cortes who appear as larger-than-life apparitions in the sky above the "Venice of the New World" Tenochtitlán and the surrounding mountains decorated with subtle Aztec designs-- executed by yours truly along with the clouds! I did most of the clouds in this mural because I LOVE CLOUDS. I also painted Moctezuma II. Cortes was painted by Rolando.


"Who is that lady between these two very powerful men?" you may be asking. She is Marina, also known as "La Malinche." She was a slave in the Aztec Empire who learned Spanish served as Cortes' translator. Supposedly she was also his lover and legend has it that they had a child-- Mexico's first half Spanish half Indigenous person, but that has not been proven or disproven. Without La Malinche as a translator, Rolando believes the Conquest would not have been a success for the Spanish. She was Cortes' voice and therefore is arguably one of the most important women in Mexican History during one of its most pivotal moments. 

The Aztecs did quite a bit of human sacrifice and their ideal sacrifice victims were fifteen year old boys with perfect skin. Good luck finding that! Am I right? Um, anyway, it was not fun to be their neighbors because they would roll into your village and find all your acne-free teenage boys and ritually kill them. They killed a lot of other people as sacrifices too. There was a lot of death. So when the Spanish showed up with their horses and their guns, a lot of people were all for them taking the Aztecs out of power. La Malinche, being enslaved by the Aztecs, I imagine would have had plenty of reason to want them out of power as well. Because of her role in the Conquest and her profound impact on history, she appears as a Goddess, and of the three faces, hers is the most prominent. 

Finally, the panel at the far left shows two Goddesses representing different religious traditions in Mexico: The form of the Aztec Tierra Madre (Mother Earth), Tonantzin is visible in the mountains. She is lying down with two legs bent, her knees forming the tops of the mountains. 


In the sky is La Virgen Guadalupe, who appeared in 1531, ten years after the conquest and performed miracles such as healing and making roses grow on a barren hilltop. Some theorize that perhaps she was fabricated by the Spanish to encourage the people of Mexico to convert to Catholicism, as she was a Virgin like the Virgin Mary, but was a Mexican woman. Either way, she has a very devout following in Mexico to this day. Her image is everywhere. There is even a water mark in the subway of Mexico city that is shaped like her. It has a little shrine around it. I visited the water mark Virgen de Guadalupe when I was in Mexico City! She shows up on toast sometimes too, and trees, and stuff like that.

In our Mural, La Virgen is surrounded by cherubs at her feet whose faces are Rolando's grandchildren. He added them in as a hidden personal touch. These two goddesses together represent the meeting and co-existing of these different traditions in Modern Mexico. The Conquest was in so many ways a period of conflict and cultural upheaval in Mexico, but the fusion of Spanish and Mexican cultures really made the country what it is today-- diverse and colorful. I remember Rolando telling me that the "New World" need not refer to the Mexico that the Spanish "found" but the one was created when the civilizations combined.

Creating this mural was incredibly eye opening and fascinating to me. I consider myself very lucky to have gotten to work with him. He is an amazingly talented artist and a living encyclopedia of Mexican History and Art History. He also had many fascinating stories about his life-- I remember just sitting in his studio listening to everything from Flamenco guitar to Justin Timberlake while we painted and he talked about life and art and history. Basically, it totally rocked and I am so very thankful for the experience.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Project Fox Bed and Why I Don't Paint Flowers

I have had a project in mind for a while and I finally have the time to devote to it: I bought a secondhand bed frame at a thrift store. I was very excited because it was both ugly and boring. This means that it was both a blank canvas and I would have no qualms covering it in paint. I knew I wanted to paint something on my bed but I didn't know what. 

After a lot of thought, I decided on foxes. I don't entirely know why. There just needed to be foxes on this bed. I went as far as to look up foxes in a dictionary of Jungian/dream symbols. They don't seem to correlate to my life in any way, except that I am painting them. Painting foxes onto my bed is what I have been doing for the last two days and here are some photos of my progress!




I usually don't depict flowers in any of my artwork. They don't interest me because they are too pretty. Flowers seem to me like a shortcut to making your painting pretty and I am interested in finding beauty in things that people don't necessarily find beautiful already. This is why I don't love Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings. She was all, "people don't stop to notice flowers so I painted giant flowers so that everyone is forced to stop and look at flowers." And I am like, "No! Everyone thinks flowers are pretty! They are like the most generically pretty thing there is!" So I am usually not interested in painting them.

(Though to clarify, I am a big fan of Georgia O'keeffe. Her desert paintings rock my world and there is this GIANT canvas she did of clouds that is in the Chicago Art Institute that totally blew my mind. ALSO I came across a book once that quoted her as saying, "I hate flowers! I paint them because they are cheaper than models and they don't move." So perhaps her artist statement about getting people to notice beautiful little things is not the whole story).

That being said, you will notice that my foxes are surrounded by dandelions. For me, dandelions are the exception to my no-flower rule. I think it is because when they are white and puffy, they don't even look like flowers any more. They look like surreal floating fluff balls. They look like stars. They look like they have some sort of internal luminescence coupled with transparency. They are also weeds, which are traditionally seen as "not pretty." So dandelions are ok with me.







I am working on both sides of the headboard next, which you will never even see because it will always be behind pillows or against a wall, but this bed needs more foxes.

I could do this forever. Anyone want paintings on their furniture?

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Vinceward Van Hopper! Edwincent Hop-Gogh?

Hey all,

First-- a quick update on my screen printing class last night: It was SO much better! I am finally getting it! I finished the background of my print and moved on to the ship itself. The sails are done and next I will move down to the hull and eventually the water. And all the rigging-- I'll need to throw that in somewhere. I learned a new way to register each piece of paper (line it up correctly with the screen) and it made my life a bajillion-million times easier. Still no images for you though. Sorry!!

What I am going to write about in this post is a painting that I have in the works-- a new nightscape in oil on wood panel. I am thinking of it as Van Gogh meets Edward Hopper. I'm borrowing from the color palette of Van Gogh's nightscapes and using classic New England Architecture as subject matter-- the same subject matter that Hopper is known for (my work has been compared to his before and I take it as a huge compliment... though admittedly when I first moved to Boston, I had a bit of an artist block because I realized that Edward Hopper had already made all the paintings I wanted to make, so I had to shift in new ways).

So here is what I have so far:


Eh? Eh? Cool, right? Vinceward Van Hopper! Edwincent Hop-Gogh? 
No, no, the first one is better. Vinceward Van Hopper.


So what I am debating about right now, is 1) I want to finish this painting BUT 2) it looks kind of cool unfinished, am I right? There is something appealing about the sketchy boldness of the shapes I already have. I don't think I'll actually leave it like this, but a small part of me wants to. What do y'all think?

Oh and also, this isn't just any old house in Boston. This is MY house. My room is the one on the third floor balcony.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

I Love Markers

I recently acquired some fancy art markers. These aren't your average Crayola things, they are the highest quality, most fun markers I have ever touched. Nothing against Crayola of course, some of my greatest childhood masterpieces are done in Crayola. But these new markers? They are so smooth and vibrant. I love them. 

The winter is the slow season at the USS Constitution Museum, so while I was at the front desk waiting for visitors to arrive, I drew a sea monster lurking beneath a ship. My co-workers can verify: I draw a lot of sea monsters when I am at the front desk. Then I sketched a half-hour glass, which is an artifact from our collection. They kept time on early US Navy ships using these half-hour glasses. A watch lasted 4 hours and they would ring a bell to signal when each half-hour had passed.


The markers accompanied me to the MFA, where I did a cartoon copy of a Dutch Renaissance painting. I chose this painting because the woman looked incredibly grumpy and it made me think about how uncomfortable it must have been to pose for hours for a painting, wearing your best giant, frilly collar. I was also drawn to all the ornate frames, so I threw some of those in too.


And finally, in search of fresh ideas, I posed on facebook a request for things to draw. One friend suggested an angry lemur. Upon googling lemurs, I discovered they look sort of angry naturally, so it made my task easier. Then I got a suggestion to draw the coolest looking planet I could invent, which ended up with quite a lot of swirling masses, like Mars.



I have more plans for these markers. Just you wait!

Saturday, September 22, 2012

New Yorker Spots

The second assignment for my illustration class at the Museum School was really, really fun-- we drew series of spots, which are the little images in the middle of magazine articles such as The New Yorker. The illustrations are in black and white and don't have anything to do with anything so we could draw whatever we wanted as long as it was tiny (3" x 3" max). Most people in my class did a few illustrations on one theme but I thought the assignment was awesome so I made it my personal goal to do as many as I could in a week.

Aaaaand here they are!

I did this candle and the small person with a giant coat and house plant in class:


Then I thought, "I should do illustrations on a theme. How about fluffy animals?"

In following the theme of fluffy animals, I drew the fluffiest animal I have ever met-- one of the dogs that belonged to my host family when I spent a semester in Mexico. Her name was Tonka:


Then I thought, "Woah-- ALL of my host family's dogs had so much character. I'll draw all of them!" so here they are. The wrinkly one is Jani (pronounced like honey), then there's Tonka again, and on the bottom row the black one is Pintocha, and the one looking away is Georgie.

(These dogs were not drawn to scale. See below.)


So then one day I was sitting in Copley Square with my sketchbook and I drew a series of spots of Copley. I did the dome of Old South Church:


The door to the Boston Public Library:

A house sparrow:
And a tree:


Also here is a shopping cart that is completely random:


... and a girl hugging a star. If she were hugging a real star, she would probably burn to death, but she seems ok.


And finally, I did a series where I messed with a bunch of famous art.
This guy with no clothes has stepped in yet another icky clock puddle while walking around in Dalí's masterpiece.


Someone is invading Mona's personal bubble here:

This is my take on the beautiful tradition of nautical painting:

And finally, I gave this guy something to REALLY scream about.


The assignment for next week is cookbook illustration, so get psyched for some food I'm about to draw! 

Also, I was enrolled in a second class this semester called Introduction to Adobe Illustrator but I have decided to drop the class for many reasons, the main ones being I didn't realize that I would find Adobe Illustrator so boring and I can't think of any way to apply it to any of my artistic goals. I think Photoshop would be more up my alley. Don't get me wrong-- Illustrator seems super useful and I'm glad we have artists and designers out there who can use it and enjoy using it. However, I am not one of them. Also, there was a wait-list for people who really wanted to get into the class and I figured they would make better use of it than I would. AND the class was on Zumba night and the thought of giving up Zumba for 14 weeks so that I could sit at a computer was very sad to me. 

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Is Automatic Drawing just a fancy way of saying doodling?

What do you draw when you're not thinking about drawing? When you just want to do something with your hands but you're not trying to create anything in particular? When you intentionally give up control of the outcome? Automatic drawing is a concept that was developed by the Surrealists. Dalí and Miró were really into it (among many others). The idea was to create marks without using rational thought to make an image that was a direct expression of the artist's subconscious. Some spiritual type people say that automatic drawings are the shape of your soul. There are equivalent concepts in music and writing as well.

I have not, until recently, put a whole lot of thought into what I draw when I'm not thinking (duh), but I do actually always draw the same thing. It is spirals, but not just spirals, they are spirals that branch off from one another and make these cool tendril-like forms or conglomerates or river-flow movements or something. I have been drawing them since I was in middle school or so and, more recently, at work on scrap paper and I realized it was time to give them a spot on my blog.







The trick to these swirly-spiral drawings is to know when to stop. They could just grow forever if I let them. So... are they the shape of my soul or am I just doodling? Either way, I'm gonna keep doing these.