Though I have recently changed direction, attention to color, form and geometry permeate my work even as I moved from pattern to small horizontal landscapes and cityscapes. In recent drawings in ink and Flashe paint on paper, I expand on past obsessions. Detail and repetition have always been part of my method in realizing my ideas. I see geometry in architecture, in natural and human forms and wherever I look in my environment. In my early work I color-coded the Fibonacci series of numbers, the proportions of which are contained in the golden mean, the spiral, the sunflower seed pod and even within the human figure. I am working more intuitively now in a repetitive and gestural way focusing on natural, biomorphic forms with a meditative, sexually suggestive, surreal, somewhat pictorial and even humorous approach.
I am awed by some of the beauty and complexity in creatures we do not readily see or exam. The photo of the microscopic cell is one of a number of images I search for inspiration. That image as well appears in the piece. -Dee Shapiro, 2012
I’ve been interested in theoretical physics since reading Neal Stephenson’s Anathem a few years back. The first picture is of a painting idea I’ve been working with since 2001. I think about how it’s made. I think about the other people who’ve made work in a similar manner. I think about the differences and similarities in the content of all of the variations of this style of painting and any painting style that’s ever existed. I want to show four dimensions existing simultaneously in a single work of art.
The second [buddy] picture is, I think, the same thing though it’s vastly less comfortable for me to look at and was pretty difficult to make. It seems to be the same painting as the first picture but maybe from another version of reality. Or like Paul Klee and Joan Miro made it with me. -Matt Jones, 2012
I should perhaps say from the outset that I do not consider myself a photographer, I am not concerned with taking ‘good’ photographs, I just take ‘snaps’, like the majority of people with a mobile-phone camera, documenting what catches my eye (these are sometimes employed on my blogs). My primary practice is as a painter, working on small abstract paintings. I think of these activities as distinct and autonomous but I feel instinctually one will inevitably inform the other, from time to time.
Over the past year or two I have often taken photographs, whilst out walking with Betty my dog and this picture was taken the other month. I suppose looking at the images it might be expected that I took the photograph and later it influenced me when I made the painting. However, it wasn’t until sometime later that I spotted a sort of resemblance to the painting – which was completed some months previous to the picture being taken. Beyond immediately being drawn to the strong colour elements of car and tape, I now suspect that probably the very forms themselves (made by the cardboard and tape) resonated within me, appearing somehow familiar and this contributed to drawing me to it as an image. -Terry Greene, 2012
The primary series is the Sense of Place. I work back and forth between the two. When I need clarity or to redirect myself I go the black and white palette and focus on the horizon line in the Facing West Series.
I have been a presenter for the Pecha Kucha series here in Maine and talked about the body of work, A Sense of Place. I described my working methods, I included some quotes from Wendell Berry. It is an important series for me since over time it chronicled my move to Maine. I worked on the Facing West series from my studio in CT which faced west and across a lake. Now, my ‘West” series is from a beach looking out over the islands of Penobscot Bay. I find that the simple reduction of the horizon to be a powerful image. -Kitty Winslow, 2012
I generated this printout as a reference for Paint, which is a part of an ongoing series of paintings inspired partly by early digital imaging software and partly by Albert Oehlen’s Computer Paintings series. I wanted to recreate a line that did not reference the hand, but instead referenced the wonky and imperfect alliance of a finger on a laptop touchpad. In Paint, the line was created by squeezing paint directly from the tube onto the canvas. To me, this series is an argument in favor of painting, versus digital media. Much of the canvas is left raw or only thinly painted, allowing chance and editing to be totally visible and inherently part of the final painting. -Trudy Benson, 2012
The second image is a sculpture I recently made in paper clay, and the other is a painting from a large series of works I am currently making that are 16″ x 12″. In the last ten years I have been making sculpture that I rarely show, and these paper clay sculptures are more like drawings. This one I made recently in Florida, I didn’t realize until after I put it on the wall that it was a spider web. -Joanne Greenbaum, 2012
My work has often been, on some level, about space. Even in the earliest and most illusionistic, I was thinking about how shapes, objects, colors were arranged in relation to one another. Most start in a sketchbook, and go through several drawing phases. This is one of the abstractions from my last show, and the earliest sketchbook version of a large painting I did a few years back. Even as they develop, the paintings usually maintain some of my initial thumbnail impulses. -Ridley Howard, 2012
I’m deeply inspired by the boots-on-the-ground views of the American landscape of photographers like William Eggleston, Garry Winogrand, and Robert Frank. I sometimes think of my painting practice in part as an homage to these artists, except my photos are taken through the window of my Subaru, and I really take random cropping to an extreme. I use the photographs to record and remember specific details that I can then pull from when painting. The relationship to photography is tenuous in my final works, but it’s sometimes visible in certain cropping or flattening, a flash of graphic advertising, or specificity of detail embedded in the paintings’ morphing logic. Usually my photographs look like what they are – snapshots taken randomly out of the passenger (and sometimes the driver side) window, but occasionally I get lucky. -Karla Wozniak, 2012
Besides painting, I maintain Two Coats of Paint, a blog about painting and related issues. The analytic discipline writing requires helps me organize my thoughts and understand feelings that might otherwise rattle around unclarified in my mind. And writing, however deliberate, is mysterious. Sometimes, when I think I have nothing of consequence to say, sitting at the keyboard and describing visual phenomena with specific, carefully chosen words steers me toward modest revelations about what I’m doing in the studio. I never plotted out this kind of synergy, but I’m happy it evolved. -Sharon Butler, 2012
Last year, I was out buying paint and saw this postcard near the checkout making super aggressive eye-contact and a lewd gesture (try it on your friends). I took it home and taped it just above eye- level to the wall facing the desk where I work. The artist is Jan Cornelisz Vermeyen, the subject is Jean de Carondelet, the attitude is fuck-you-whatever. The attitude was very important at the time; I also wanted to learn more about green. This silly-stern image has been a great studio fetish/protector/teacher and is the only reproduction in my periphery while painting. Jean is very complicated but doesn’t protest too much and that’s crucial.
Last month I hung a very new painting on the wall near the postcard. My painting was so new I still hated it. Once it cooled, though, the paternity was obvious—Jan’s genes were everywhere. I was so proud!
-Peter Shear, 2012