Thinking About Art

B/W Photogs... who are you?

For as much art as I see in D.C., I am fairly bad with names. For reasons that may become more clear in the future, I am reaching out to you, dear readers, for a little help. If you could, please leave in the comments names for DC area black and white photographers. It can be you and/or other people who you admire. If you know that the person is represented by a gallery (locally or else), please make note of that. If you would rather not publish a list online, feel free to email me.

Thanks!

New Pictures of Old(er) Work

As I mentioned recently, I had photos taken of some of my recent work. Included in the session were some pieces that are older and some of which have already been shared here. I wanted to post these new and improved images. I will be posting all of the photos of my new work in the coming days. I hope to have them all up prior to going to Miami for the fair craziness next week.

Red Stripe
Spray Paint and Masking Tape on MDF
12" x 49"
2003

Black Stripe
Spray Paint and Masking Tape on MDF
12" x 49"
2003

Birch Plywood
8" x 10"
2005

Birch Plywood
7" x 9"
2005

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
12" x 12"
2007

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
12" x 12"
2007

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
12" x 12"
2007

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
12" x 12"
2007

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
8" x 12"
2007

Acrylic on Archival Scrapbook Paper
6" x 12"
2007

More new work to come tomorrow.

Andrew Krieger and Andrew Au @ H&F Fine Arts

Opening this week are two great solo exhibitions at H&F Fine Arts in Mt. Rainier, MD. Washington, D.C. artist, Andrew Krieger, and former Washington artist (currently living in Cincinnati), Andrew Au, present two different takes on fantastical worlds. Both demonstrate strong skills in drawing and printmaking, and each has a unique and beautiful sense of color. I hope you'll be able to join us on Saturday from 4-7pm for the opening reception. Both artists will be present.

Andrew Krieger
Outreach Platform for the Dissertation of the Regular Sex Theory
pen, pencil, ink, ink wash, photo retouch, Chinese white, graphite rub, a b dick metal stylus, metal point, lead stick, gouache, roulette, metallic pigments and stippling
22" x 15"
2006

Andrew Au
BINARY MEME: (Lhotshampa / Druk) Bhutan 1990
Ink and Colored Pencil on Arches Paper
28" x 20"
2007

Here is the press release for the show:

Andrew Krieger: Deep Ellum and Acceptable Detours
Andrew Au: memebiotics
November 29 – January 19
Opening reception: Saturday, December 1 from 4–7pm

H&F Fine Arts is pleased to present concurrent solo shows of works by Andrew Krieger and Andrew Au. Both artists employ a meticulous line in evoking lush, disquieting landscapes, alternate realities that serve as laboratories for positing questions about or critiques of our world. The gallery floor plan will be modified to create two individual spaces for the presentation of these exciting bodies of work.

Andrew Krieger combines a draftsman’s devotion to the articulated line with a surrealist’s fascination with form. The resulting dissonance lies at the heart of the artist’s decades-long exploration of the fundamental discord between man and his surrounding nature. The viewer is invited to lavish in Krieger’s beautifully rendered worlds of blurred reality, but a deeper look reveals an underlying longing that resists attempts to linger long on the surface of the work. The exhibition derives its name from the imagined realm of Deep Ellum, a study reservation and bio region. In this landscape Krieger contemplates man’s uneasy relation to the cosmos. The denizens of Krieger’s Ellum are poised in states of intentional imbalance, inhabitants of landscapes constructed to understand the constant struggles of being. One wonders hopefully about the possibilities of achieving equilibrium while acknowledging the circuitous, dimly lit path of the struggle.

Krieger’s work is included in the collections of the Corcoran and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, and in the Museum of Modern Art and Metropolitan Museum of Fine Art in New York among others.

In conceiving the drawings and prints of Memebiotics, Andrew Au posits a realm where the studies of science and culture collide. His visceral, richly detailed, bio-mechanistic illustrations employ Mendelian genetics as a metaphor for exploring the unwholesome implications of social inheritance. Au’s “memes” are the cultural genes—beliefs, stories, customs, and prejudices—we bequeath to succeeding generations; “biotics” invokes the corporate body, the living society that both sustains and entombs us all. The visual brilliance of Au’s fantastical organic landscapes belies a biting political and social commentary. The artist qua scientist poses questions about the cultural responsibilities of civilization, the insidious influences of technology, and the very premise/promise of “evolution.” As the viewer is left to wonder about the nature of progress—whether genetic or cultural—the artist tips his hand to a gloomy, if aesthetically stunning, forecast.

A former Washington, DC, resident, Au resides in Cincinnati, Ohio, where he works as an assistant professor at Miami University Middletown. Au’s work was shown in the Louisiana Triennial at the New Orleans Museum of Art and is included in the permanent collection of the Cincinnati Art Museum.

High resolution images are available upon request.

Thinking About Photography

The combination of seeing Robert Adams on a recent Art:21 episode and my recent foray into doing some photography with my Holga has led me to a revelation of sorts. Before I go out of town for the holidays, I wanted to share this thought with you and see what you think about it.

I have always said that it is easy to take a "good" photograph but it's quite difficult to take a "great" one. I think that this is due to too many factors, the biggest of which is how saturated our world is with images, both in terms of paper and digital images, but also in terms of our eyes. We "see" photos all the time we're awake. We know what makes for a "good" image but it's all the more difficult to find/create an image that exceeds our expectations. We don't really "see" paintings or sculptures every day, at least in the same way as with photography.

Anyway, listening to Robert Adams speak of his life's work, and having some recent success of my own, has caused me to think photography isn't so much about an individual images, but instead, about the body of work and the story it tells. I don't mean that to diminish the worth of a single image - there are certainly plenty of amazing single photos in the world - but it's via the body of work that greatness is really achieved. Some of the photographers that come to mind in this regard are Andre Kertesz, Sally Mann and, of course, Robert Adams.

I'm wondering if the same can be said about a painter or sculptor, at least to the same degree. If a painter makes a bad painting, does it still add to the body of work? If a photographer makes a not-so-interesting photo, we might not want to hang it on our wall but it still contributes to the story.

My thoughts on this subject are hardly solidified or worked through completely. Perhaps this can only be said about photography that leans more towards documentation.

As I am taking photographs, I realize that none of the images I'm creating are innovative. However, my hope is that maybe I can create a body of work comprised of "good" photographs that represents my vision of the world. Perhaps the body of work, when all is said and done, will be something that exceeds the sum of its parts. I guess we'll find out.

I hope everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday!

Monitor Calibration

UPDATED LAST TIME: One more comparison.

UPDATED AGAIN: Added new comparison at bottom.

UPDATED: Added a "real-life" shot of a painting on the wall at the end of the post.

I wanted to thank everyone who responded to the last post and gave your advice. Hopefully that helped some other people... it certainly helped me.

Here's the next issue for you digital imaging folks (Fitts?!). You get a sneak peak at one of my new paintings below. The issue is this... the image on the right is from my photographer post-processing. The image on the left is after I modified it to look more life-like on my monitor (both are in Photoshop). I'm curious about the following things:

1) Does one of the images look too artificial or oversaturated on your monitor? Does one look life-like while the other looks washed out?
2) I used Adobe Gamma to calibrate my monitor and it didn't change much. It's tough to look at images that don't look right on my computer, but if they look right to everyone else, that's what's important.
3) Are there any Photoshop tricks I can use to alter these images or my view of the images to be more accurate?

Here are the comparison images:

The image on the right is from the photographer. The painting is straight red acrylic on primed canvas. To me the image on the right looks gray while the image on the left looks white after I tweaked it. Thoughts?

The actual painting is rich pink on a bright, deep blue background. The small circle in the top left is bright white. How do they appear to you on your computer?

I'd really appreciate any help anyone can provide. If it's just a problem with my computer, that's fine. I just need to know.

Thanks!

UPDATED:

Here is an image captured right on the wall. I just used a lamp pointed at the piece and snapped without a flash. Obviously you can see lots of noise but you can also see the colors. This one looks washed out too as the "white" is not really white at all. I'll keep playing around. The photographer is looking into it too.

UPDATED AGAIN:

Can you tell this is driving me crazy? So I tried manually adjusting the level to the white point of the small top circle (which is bright white in real life). Below is the 3 painting comparison. The one on left is the latest version. In the middle is from the photographer. To the right is my first attempt at color correction. Better?

UPDATED LAST TIME:

Same as the 3 image comparison above. White point adjustment, from photographer, my original modified version.

Misc.

I'm looking for some thoughts on a few things. Please let me know if you can help.

1) Not too long ago I purchased a point and shoot digital camera. It's a Fuji Finepix E900. I had used an older version of the same model and loved it. Then I saw Consumer Reports rated this one very highly. Unfortunately, it's been a complete disappointment. Here are some of my complaints:

- The batteries barely last long enough to take 20 pictures at the highest resolution.
- Even at the highest resolution, the images are full of noise. They look extremely grainy.
- I'm not an expert on digital photography so perhaps I am missing something, but the camera won't take pics at 300dpi. When opened in photoshop they are 72dpi but very large (i.e. 3500 pixels wide).

Does anyone know anything about this camera? I was told I could contact the manufacturer but it seems unlikely they'll do anything about it. So out of curiosity, what DSLR would someone recommend? A DSLR on a non-pro budget, that is.

2) As I've mentioned recently, I've been painting lately. Right now I have 4 pieces in progress. They are all square: 36" x 36", 30" x 30", 30" x 30" and 24" x 24". Because I'm really just getting started with the painting, I've bought these pre-stretched. I'm wondering where artists get larger canvases. Do you buy them somewhere? If so, where? Or do you stretch them yourself? If you do, could you point me to a good tutorial on how to do that? They didn't teach me that in art school... oh yeah, I didn't go to art school.

3) I talked about this some time ago but every year I try my hand at photography. I just saw the Art:21 with Robert Adams and was inspired to get out and just take pictures. I didn't feel like I had to be innovative. I just wanted to see what caught my eye. I used a Holga which was inspired by Alexandra. So I'm wondering. Where's the best place (quality and cost) to get the film processed and have contact sheets made? Bonus points for good places closer to Reston than Chrome. Black and White Lab?

If anything remotely decent comes out of this, I'll post them here. Last time I did that the image got ripped apart. Deservedly so. But I can take it.

Thanks!

Mini Gallery Crawl - 11/3/07

This past Saturday I was able to make it to the 14th St galleries before the opening reception madness ensued. I wanted to share some images from the new shows.

James Huckenpahler @ Hemphill

A strong showing for sure. James' new work is advanced and seems more compositionally complex. The work is challenging to look at... like Op Art hyped up on technology steroids. The grainy images don't do as much for me as the more crisp pieces, but the show overall is fantastic.

Linn Meyers @ G Fine Art

I've been anxiously awaiting Linn's show and it certainly didn't disappoint. Recently acquired by the Hirshhorn, Linn is doing very well right now. The show contains large works that sing with fluidity and charm (save for one piece that feels a bit too graphic to me), and small works that seem more experimental (overlaying lines on printed graph paper). It's an elegant show and demonstrates why Linn is being acquired by top museums.

D. Billy @ Transformer

D. Billy may have left us for the greener pastures of NYC, but we are lucky to have his work at Transformer. There are really two types of work here: collage/drawings with cartoon influence and photographs of D.Billy interventions on NYC streets. We're pretty familiar with D.Billy's small collages so it was particularly refreshing to see the photographs. These were a fresh take on graffiti for me. They are lighthearted and funny, and although it's a cliche to say so, these works show us the world around us in a new way. I look forward to seeing where he takes these.

Kahn & Selesnick @ Irvine Contemporary Art

I loved the last solo show by Kahn & Selesnick so I knew I'd be in for a treat if this show exceeded the last. Unfortunately, it didn't measure up quite as well to me. I missed the rich black and white photos in particular. In this new space, the show felt more haphazard. I wasn't able to get into a rhythm viewing the show and felt that prevented me from truly engaging the work. The show is smart and sophisticated, but unfortunately it just didn't connect with me. Art can be hit or miss that way.

14th St. is strong right now. Go visit!

"Today I'm going to try to get rid of conceptual art."

With Franklin's permission, I am posting his latest essay, Degrees of Art, in full. I never knew why I didn't trust conceptual art as art, but Franklin's essay captures my feelings very well. You may not agree with him but I hope you'll read the essay and consider his points.

A couple of weeks ago I did my best to get rid of the subjective world. To recap, and restate a bit more clearly, the subjective world doesn't exist. We experience a subjective world because our brains can't feel themselves function. Much goes on in them that other people never find out about, but much goes on in them that we never find out about either. We similarly experience a flat earth because we can't detect its curvature by walking around the neighborhood. But the earth is a sphere and our brains are electrically charged appendages of the living crust upon it. That electricity moves around a complicated set of pathways, but has no physical form apart from them. The content of that electricity and some supporting chemical reactions, what we usually refer to as "us," also has no form apart from them. The brain has a clever way of recording interactions between us and things that are not us, and can imagine scenarios based on those records. People who have studied the problem have an idea about how it does this, but we can't sit around and feel it going on. We can only observe the part that takes place in view of conscious awareness. If you try to imagine how much you know but aren't thinking about at the moment, you have to admit that conscious awareness must constitute a tiny fraction of total mental activity. It moves around on a material template and directs limited parts of it, but has no shape outside of it.

Today I'm going to try to get rid of conceptual art.

Individual instances of art lie somewhere on a continuum between objects that exist for the sake of form and objects that exist for the sake of an idea. Ideas cling to all human endeavors, even the purest exercises in the manipulation of shape. The notion that manipulating shapes would make for a fine afternoon, or a fine life, finds support in a lot of good writing and has a subtle, motivating idea to go with the act itself. At the other end of the spectrum, even the most concept-driven work still has some kind of a form - a photograph, a bit of text, some representation of the act. Conventionally we might call things "formal art" or "conceptual art," but we really ought to call the art "more formal" or "more conceptual."

Edward Winkleman brought a particular piece to my attention that might seem to lie off of that spectrum. In 1960, Stanley Brouwn declared that all the shoe stores in Amsterdam constituted an exhibition of his work. I'm going to do something that I have heretofore refrained from: disqualify this as art. I would put it among acts of philosophy, with art as its topic. (Anyone who finds such things beautiful ought to look at Astonish Yourself by Roger-Pol Droit. 101 art-making opportunities await! Not really.) I have found it hard to disprove that something is art. Instead I have held more defensible ground: anything presented as art is art, so let's talk about how good it is. But it cedes too much, so I'm advancing. Things that don't have any form are not art.

The pure play of concept-free forms is art. The pure play of form-free concepts is philosophy. The continuum lies between them.

This implies that things become less and less art as they move away from the formal pole. I haven't seen it asserted elsewhere that something exists as art by degrees, but it would explain a lot. For one, it would explain the difficulty of defining art, a category of seemingly infinite scope and a wide, fuzzy border. It would also suggest how philosophical effort can go so far concerning itself with certain art objects - such things have proportionately less art and more philosophy. This is not in itself a value judgment, but a description. Art is not an achievement to which things ought to aspire. Rather, creators ought to land somewhere on that continuum and work in any way that interests them, and do it well.

It ought not trouble the proponents of more conceptual art that it has less art than more formal art. The conceptual tendency undermined art as an honorific category. Dada, Fluxus, and their antecedents sought from their inceptions to include the mass-produced, the democratic, the unskilled, the cheap, and the unserious into the realm of art. This is also not a value judgment. Kurt Schwitters and Joseph Cornell could make detritus sing. But the singing is formal. The rest is detritus. Marble, by itself, has no more lofty a status as far as art goes, except for its plasticity and potential attractiveness.

We have arranged parts of the material template for our pleasure, which we experience when our awareness contacts them. This last sentence is a complicated way of describing a common phenomenon - looking at a painting, reading a line of poetry, sitting in a good chair. The two poles of the continuum represent two sorts of pleasure: the pleasure of looking, embodied by art, and the pleasure of thinking, embodied by philosophy. A given point on the continuum represents the degree to which an object relies on the pleasures of looking or thinking to function at its best.

What makes for pleasurable thinking? Dense associations, challenging intellectual propositions, an exploration of pressing issues, and the like. A more conceptual object may succeed at such things. But such success is philosophical success, not artistic success. Pleasurable looking denotes artistic success. What makes for pleasurable looking? Good form. In theory one could make an object that triumphs both formally and philosophically. In practice, no such object seems to exist. Philosophy is inherently linguistic - writing and dialogue serve it well, while shape may serve at most as something to hang writing and dialogue upon. More conceptual art succeeds when it proves able to spawn a copious amount of thinking, as well as writing and dialogue, which are the manifested activities of thinking. Form may act as a poetic condensation of an idea, and may as such have value, but it can't beat language for clarity and thorough exploration. Our great philosophers have been talkers and writers.

So what's wrong with enjoying more-conceptual art objects for their philosophical richness? Nothing at all, as long as the person doing the enjoying understands that such objects have less art than more formal works, that the enjoyment is philosophical rather than artistic in nature, and that the philosophical richness is not artistic richness. I personally like art for the art, but by all means, go nuts.