The Artist Statement

This is going to be a long post, so bear with me.  Think of it as making up for my lack of verbosity these last few weeks.

I want to talk about artist statements.  I've been thinking a lot about that recently, as I prepare for my next show.  I find the whole concept of artist statements annoying.  Let me explain.  First, let me show you the statement I wrote to accompany the proposal that got me into this show.

I make art as a means of understanding, explaining, and expressing both my inner and outer world through imagery.  My formal training is in Anthropology and my work is very informed by this.  Anthropology is the study of human cultures both present and past.  Like those first cave painters, marking the cycles of seasons, and the paths of the herds, I am using art in an attempt to make sense of the world I live in.  Art is my primal animus; I make art to survive.

Like an archaeologist I am drawn to the detritus of human cultures.  I find beauty in old, worn bits of human lives, in the strange, the mundane, and the incongruent.  I enjoy seeing the precious juxtaposed against the raw primitive. I find the realities of life reflected in a shiny bit of silver against a weathered board.   I often use collage in my work, adding text from old books, or scraps of old handwriting that I find in the corner of a second-hand store.  I mix paint, paper, pencil and beeswax in a multi-layered, textured interpretation of life.

My current work is informed by my interest in the 18th and 19th century natural history illustrations.  This was an era when people were taking another look at the world and trying to explain it in a way that moved beyond the traditional religious explanations.   The creatures I paint represent my own curiosity about the world, my own inner nature or animus.  I anthropomorphize my creatures, trying to get at their inner soul, representing the sentience and not just a mindless animal.   In many ways these paintings reflect the inner conflict between my desire to control my world and wanting that wildness of nature, the chaos.

When I read this now, it sounds like so much hooey!  And I'm really embarrassed to share it with you.  While what I said is true for me, it is not my truth.  Here is my real artist statement:

I like pretty things.

That is the problem I have with artist statements.  When I read statements of other artists, they sound so intellectual and, quite frankly,  pompous and pretentious.  So I feel that I have to come up with something erudite as well.  To begin with, I'm not the kind of person who tells long stories to get to a point.  I like pretty things.  I like to make pretty things.  I don't make art to make a political statement or to deal with deep seated emotional issues.  I like to make crows with funny faces.  I paint for the same reason that I bake cupcakes.  That is my truth.  The thing above is my truth greatly exaggerated.  I really don't want that printed and hung beside my work at the gallery.  I want a card that says, "I like pretty things"!

As I continue to prepare for the show, and compose in my head another artist statement that is closer to the truth, yet acceptable in the art world (blech!) I thought I'd share with you the process I use to make the collaged paintings I'm putting in this show.

First step, start with your stretched canvas.  You can see that I could have stretched a little tighter..

but the next step of adding the gesso actually tightens the canvas when it dries.  Mix your gesso with a little water to get a mixture like thick cream.  See that cheap paintbrush I'm using?  Don't use that kind.  The bristles fall out and get stuck in your paint.  Add a couple layers of gesso, letting each coat dry thoroughly before putting on the next.

Next, I add some acrylic color to the gesso, and add two, three, four more coats.  Again, letting each coat dry thoroughly.  I want it nice and thick, as I'm going to start distressing it soon, after another layer of color.  While this dries, I'm going to go knit.  I'll be back tomorrow with the next step.