Goin' down to Chi-town!

Why hello there. I have just returned from some wonderful travels to Chicago with a great family of friends (the Lombardi's) from Columbus. I am now back in the studio, all inspired and etching a big, new plate! Details on that soon...

Here's the river upon arrival- what a gorgeous city! Of course it helped being sunny and 80° in the middle of March.

The first night we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which was pretty good, and we had about an hour before closing. My favorite exhibition was This Will Have Been: Art, Love & Politics in the 1980s which included many greats such as Barbara Kruger, Cindy Sherman, Robert Mapplethorpe and others. But otherwise, hmm, it was just alright.

Our second full day was more on the scientific end of things with trips to Shedd Aquarium and the Field Museum; Egyptian tombs, jade jewelry, and Tibet were inspiring. Much more art was to be seen on day three, as we spent several hours in the Art Institute of Chicago Museum.

We walked through the land of Renoir and Monet (Van Gogh was being roped off right as we approached for some reason). I really have to admit that I'm not a fan of Renoir's color palette. I mean truly- something about it makes me queasy. Ah well; apologies to all those offended. But when I got to Toulouse-Lautrec, my love for his work was confirmed. Yes the posters are always a treat but the paintings, my goodness! I could have drooled for hours over At the Moulin Rouge, but there was also this portrait, which I don't remember seeing:

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Portrait of Jeanne Wenz, 1886

Oh the lovely lines of brushwork and thin layers of solvent! Mmm.

Our next stop was the new Contemporary art wing, which was chock-full of Bruce Nauman plus a nice room's worth of Gerhard Richter. But many were exact repeats of the Contemporary Museum, namely Judd and Serra. My favorite of that era yet again was Lee Bontecou, hands down. There is something about that hole- the black empty hole in the center that I am also drawn to creating in my own work- something I need to explore further. Also, of course I love the gritty, industrial materials:

Lee Bontecou, Untitled, 1960

Walking through the Buddhist hall of statues, the next gallery was American Modern Art, certainly another favorite of mine. I was just fascinated by the textures of Ivan Albright as seen in this detail:

Ivan Albright, That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do, detail, 1931-41

There was just an incredible amount of minute texture in tiny cracks and peels of paint as well as fabric and lace. For obvious reasons, this painting took 10 years of work.

Here was another wonderful piece- a group of school children were being educated in front of it about varicose veins, which was quite amusing. They still seemed baffled. I love the title of this piece:

Ivan Albright, Into the World There Came a Soul Called Ida, 1929-30

Across the way was this beautiful painting of a clown by Walt Kuhn. Wonderful expression and color:

Walt Kuhn, Clown with Drum, 1942

And here it was in its glory, the famous Hopper. It's interesting how iconic paintings differ from your expectations. But this was well, pretty much right on- an average size, but hard to see some detail behind glass:

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942

The adjacent room contained the über famous American Gothic. Just beyond was an interesting work by Charles Sheeler that I don't recall seeing before. It's a strange work in that he is depicted painting one of his earliest photographs of a stove. And nature doesn't quite look so natural:

Charles Sheeler, The Artist Looks at Nature, 1943

And here is a nice work by Charles Demuth, also from around my home in PA. Yet another painting I don't recall seeing:

Charles Demuth, Business, 1921

After a much-needed break for Reubens (the sandwich), beer and Wiener Schnitzel at the amazing Berghoff Restaurant, we returned to tour the miniatures collection on the lower level. Truly amazing work: all hand-carved furniture and woven mini rugs. This one reminds me of back home: a Shaker-style room:

Sadly Prints and Drawings were closed for installation, so the next stop was way uptown on the Brown Line to look at some printshops and galleries. Sadly the Printmakers Collaborative was closed, boo! But cool signage:

From there we walked to some very neat shops and were given tips by this gallery, Sacred Art, as to where to go next- the Lillstreet Art Center. But while there, I really enjoyed the screen prints by this artist, Shawn Stucky. So here is Lillstreet:

As soon as we walked inside, we found prints by Amos P Kennedy. Hooray Amos! Happy to see you:

Next we walked upstairs and snuck around the print studio. Sadly, the monitor hours were only 1-4, so we didn't catch anybody printing.

Lovely etching press, all bumper-stickered out:

Vandercook No. 4!

And an interesting, well-used screen washout shower booth:

That mostly concludes the journey. I could write a whole separate post on Wiener Schnitzel and Bratwurst and how its enjoyment hardly left any room for deep dish pizza...or how we had fabulous smoked shrimp on a rainy bridge on the way out- Calumet on 95th. But, I digress. Chicago you are lovely and I need to come back for more art!

XO

Work Work

Hello there. All sorts of things have happened since the last post, but mostly just plain getting to work, which feels good, very good.
First, I've now been volunteering at Tiger Lily Press here in Cincinnati and have been doing monitor nights once a week with another fellow printmaker. Before getting into regular hours, my co-volunteer and I spiffed up some things around the shop: she setting up the screen printing area, and I was arranging a bit in intaglio- all with help from the lovely ladies in charge!
I set up to clean the etching press- a good ole Charles Brand that just needed a little grease, polish, and love. I've learned what I know in this department from the fabulous press repairman, Perry T.
So here is getting set up:

Next a little WD-40 and scrubbing, then grease:

And last, here it is, all shined-up:

Hooray for grease and polish! Also, as mentioned, I learned a new etch for zinc plates from the fabulous folks there; it's called 'Saline Sulfate,' which uses Copper Sulfate Pentahydrate and table salt in equal parts. So say, for a small tray, use 1/2 cup copper and salt each, stir with 2 cups hot water to dissolve, then add 6 more cups of water in the tray. I can give more details on the process to anyone interested.

Here is the chemical- also used as a sewer root killer amongst other things, but best to get the technical grade for etching:

The pretty bath- it changes more to blue after it's been mixed a while and goes clear when it's all spent. It also produces a strange red copper sludge that looks a bit like algae:

And here is the test plate; I was amazed at what fine lines it produces! It can also apparently be used for aluminum and steel, but in slightly different proportions and with different results. I do recall it being a lot more volatile and rough on aluminum, so my favorite is still zinc:

In the midst of etching tests, I have also been very busy printing for the artist I work for, Jay B. He had a recent sale of a portfolio from a few years ago of his woodcut movie, so I had to fill in and supplement prints to complete it. Here I've been working on collating the finished prints:

And proof that I actually printed some of it! Hooray for Krista and I:

It's all stacked up and finished, phew!

I promise I will have more of my own work soon, yes, I swear! I am starting a few things right now. Otherwise, still sewing and also brewing Kombucha, and I am now experimenting with some very needy Jewish sour rye bread. Mmm...we'll see! Till next time...

New Work

Okay, so there has been one thing holding me back from some new work-  fighting with health insurance. That's right. Private health insurance bee ess. I am now swimming in medical bills and cannot get insurance simply because I've had a few surgeries in the past year. Mm hmm. But I won't go on, because this blog is really about art and obsolete things...and cooking. But perhaps that can even be considered obsolete at times.

So what better to do if you're a printmaker than take out your aggression with stamps? Yes indeedy, come and get your all-purpose Pre-Existing Condition stamp:

Go ahead and pre-empt your insurance company- just stamp it yourself! What's really great is that you can apply it to anything. Like if someone blames you for a mess in the house...or dinner got burned. Or hey,what if your home needs some serious repair? Don't worry about it- it's pre-existing!

moldy wall?

Janky table?

Just stamp it!

Okay, but really- I made the stamp for some work I am currently producing for a show on political issues/society/justice. Here be the finished work:

graphite and linocut, 2012

I also did another piece on the gas lines and drilling from my family's country back home in PA:

pencil and gouache, 2012

Other than that, I completed a small copper plate in the fall:

Empty Grove, etching and mezzotint, 2011

And of course lots of little test plates with zinc and misc linocut cards. Ah yes, and I also took a letterpress business card class at local Steam Whistle Press, loads of fun!

So I'm really looking forward to the saline sulfate etch and finally getting that big zinc plate into the bath. Mmm...

The State of Things

Why hello there. It's been a while. A good while. And yes, I have done a lot more things with my MFA than make pretzels. But I have done quite the mysterious thing lately and tossed a stale pretzel more than 30 feet where it landed square on this tiny branch. Three days later, it's still there...and the birds have been feeding on it.

I don't think you can get a degree for that...
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So I now live in Cincinnati, above a giant trainyard:

...in a crazy dilapidated house that's sliding right down the hill. Yes, into the trainyard:

gouache painting, 2011

But luckily it's a very cool city because they still have typewriter repair:

Yay, they're open!

I get to share a nice studio where I took over and set up my own little 'printshop' in the corner. Yes, that press was already there, a lovely medium-sized Griffin etching press. That closet on the left is the acid room. Mmm...

It also has pretty cool lighting at the right time of day:

Well such is life thus far. I've been doing work, assisting for an artist and creating all sorts of crazy experiments with fermenting things. That would include sourdough, yogurt, and kombucha, yum! I've also been sewing. Lots of head-scratching at the sewing machine. But it's coming along. I've recently become involved at our local print co-op, Tiger Lily press. The most lovely and generous people there, and recently we had a demo for an exciting new etch for zinc- saline sulfate (copper sulfate and table salt). Here is a link to their test a year ago: http://tigerlilypress.blogspot.com/2011/01/experimenting-with-saline-sulfate-etch.html It produces beautiful lines and I'm so excited to not have to worry about a Hindenburg explosion from ferric and zinc on that giant plate I want to do next.


But mostly it is a quiet life above the trainyard. Some new work updates very soon.

Makin' Sourdough Pretzels (or how to use your MFA)

Rachel’s Sourdough Pretzels

compiled from PJ Hamel: http://www.kingarthurflour.com/blog/2011/04/28/soft-scrumptious-and-sourdough-pretzels-from-your-discard-starter/ and Margot's blog http://soursaltybittersweet.com/content/roasted-garlic-mustard-sourdough-soft-pretzels

Mix wet ingredients:

3/4 cup lukewarm water


1 cup unfed sourdough starter, straight from the refrigerator (or use fed starter)


2 tablespoons brown sugar (or non-diastatic malt powder or reg sugar)


1 tablespoon butter (or veg oil)
 (could also use 1 head roasted garlic, mashed into paste with butter, or dijon/other mustards or other spices)

Mix dry ingredients:

3 cups bread flour (add 2 xtra Tbsp water for highest gluten flours) or all-purpose flour, or mix of both

1/4 cup nonfat dry milk


1 1/2 teaspoons salt


1 1/2- 2 teaspoons rapid rise instant yeast

Mix all together until you’ve made a cohesive dough.

Knead dough until it forms a smooth ball. For the chewiest pretzels, knead for 15 minutes (15-25 by hand) until you get a baker's windowpane.

Spray mixing bowl lightly with oil, place ball of dough in the bowl, and turn to coat. Cover and let rise until doubled in size, for about 3-5 hours (3 hrs min-24 hrs max). The longer you let it rise, the more sourdough flavor. If you need to wait more than 24 hrs, you can refrigerate it and bring back to room temp.

When ready to form pretzels, bring 5-10 cups of water to boil with 1/3-2/3 cup of baking soda.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly greased work surface. Fold a few times to deflate, then shape into a rectangle.

Score once lengthwise, then 5 times crosswise, to make 12 pieces.

Cover the dough with plastic wrap, so it doesn’t dry out as you work.

Roll each piece of dough into 12-18″ rope. Keep the other pieces covered.

Twist the ends, and bring them down and under to make that classic pretzel shape. Or make logs or nubbins- whatever suits your fancy.

You can shape two at a time to boil and keep the rest of the dough pieces covered.

Preheat the oven to 450°

Two at a time, gently place the pretzels in the boiling baking soda bath. Boil for 1 minute, turning halfway through. Using a spatula or slotted spoon, remove to a colander to drain while the next batch boils, then transfer to a baking sheet coated in oil or lined with parchment paper and cover.

When all are shaped, whisk a raw egg with a tablespoon or two of buttermilk (or milk or water), and brush the tops of the pretzels. Sprinkle with coarse salt.

Bake for 15 minutes (@ 450°), or until the crust is a deep, glossy brown.

Eat right away, or store in a paper bag. Plastic/airtight containers make 'em soggy.

Here is the result!

And as extra proof, dad said they taste just like the ones he bought in Reading, PA... in the days of yore...when Reading made yummy pretzels.

In Between Things

It's been a long time since I've written up here, but it seems necessary at this point in order to figure things out. Soon I'll put up images from a recent performance for the big review, but until then, the most recent drawings.

The telephone drawings weren't quite a hit. I'm trying to figure out how to improve after some debate over the quality of the rendering. I wanted them to look gestural and hurried, but apparently they just don't look very good. It was also stated that there was some magic in projecting the video over the drawings- as if they came to life right then. So in response, I projected a video over top of tracing vellum and drew a scene on each layer so that they collapse on top of one another in registration; I even used punch registration pins for printmakers to keep all of the papers lined up. Then, after rendering each layer to a certain extent, I separated each on dowels so that there is space between them. The only thing is that the projection looks really lovely on the first sheet, but the paper is only translucent, and captures the projection detail all on one layer. That means each successive layer only receives a glow and no video imagery. Does there need to be projection on every layer? Also, I enjoy each image by itself. Perhaps it doesn't all need to be on top of one another. Maybe they can each be separated. But what about the projection? Should it just be on one? Is it sufficient to have the other drawings just hanging around? But how- somewhere in space so that they can be walked around?

The other possibility is to have sections cut through each layer, so that the projection comes straight through, leaving shadows. And perhaps I could use a wood-burning tool to sort of singe through the paper rather than a plain stencil cut.

Lastly, I am still very much debating on the furniture for the typing installation. I had used stools and old chairs for a temporary setup before, but it wasn't quite right.

It was suggested to me that I build my own device- a sort of table/stand that the typist's legs fit right into. It would be simple and clean, not drawing much attention, and keeping everything in place and stable. I did sketches, though, and those models remind me of a podium or organ, even. It's not the look I'm going for. For some reason the "Retro-future Secretary (on Wheels)" version strikes me the most. It's very awkward, strange, mobile and pathetically optimistic about a form of communication that can't possibly work.

And I still like the telephone drawings. There is still hope for the broken phones. Even though they are not rendered so well, perhaps they just need to interact in a different space; they are fragmented bits in themselves, rather than just relating to one another.

Viewing this strange sight on the way home made me realize my interest in abandoned, obsolete things. There is something beautiful and terribly sad about these objects that continue to hang on, despite their 'uselessness'- just like these construction lights left strewn, fallen over and abandoned in the snow. I feel pity for them, and I want to keep them, help them somehow.

Perhaps I'm just a tad strange, but I want this feeling for my piece: a pathetic machine that has so much hope for an impossible task, and yet we have empathy for it. It is sad and pitiful; it is ramshackle, unwieldy, and limping along; it just barely pulls together what we have it set up to do. I think these strange broken stools and chairs on wheels will be the trick. Oh, just to find them.

Till then...

Studio Visits and Critiques

There has been a lot of feedback as of late, with a studio visit and a long critique involving grads, professors, and undergrads. I was asked a lot of questions in the individual visit, one of my favorites so far asking if I am offering a solution for this disconnected communication, or if I am simply pointing out an impossibility. That was a good one to ponder. I would say that certainly I do not have an answer. I am more representing the fact that there is no connection. There is no one on the other end. It is just an object that can only contain the ghost of what passed through. It somehow contains an energy of potential, yet remains still, with that energy sort of vibrating in a perpetually frozen state.

I also enjoy the notion of coming across objects and not quite knowing what their original use was. That is a main reason for exploring abandoned places. It is almost a post-apocalyptic scene of coming across artifacts from some long-gone civilization and wondering what they could have possibly been used for. That is all that is left. There only remain a few clues with answers few and far between. There is something I like about that object that holds so much mystery, and how its form could look like something completely different- something far from its original use.

Some other observations in the critique were that the telephone is the only image that is highly enlarged. The bull horn speaker could be actual size, or even smaller, so there is some confusion of scale as to whether I am really enlarging everything or not. Perhaps that is not it. Maybe I am just making things about the same size in relation to one another in order to make strange connections. Some were also confused about the glued tracing paper. I seemed to defend it and most agreed. There is something about the puckered, fragile, glued together surface that seems to barely hold together. The only thing I am not sure of is that they are glued in a grid. Perhaps I really need torn and irregular paper rather than more or less clean rectangles.

Some also liked how charcoal dust would accrue in the crevices of the glued pages. It was suggested that I draw them on-site so that the dust accumulates on the floor. I agree. That is something that I like happening in the studio that I could not transport along with the drawing. There was also a question about drawing directly onto a wall. I have considered it, but that fixes and stabilizes the image somehow. I prefer it with shadows and transparency, floating away from the wall and moving every time someone breathes or walks by. That makes the objects more ephemeral.

So those were many thoughts to ponder. I do think I am onto something with these pieces. I am still also working with two typewriters that try to communicate, or perhaps two phones. I also wonder if that should be a part of the large drawings as well- two rendered phones or speakers attempting to connect.

Another crit with the grads in a few hours. I will be interested to hear more on these thoughts.

An image of charcoal dust accumulation under the drawing

Something interesting happening with a film still projecting onto the drawing from sunlight- an unintentional effect

Open Studio

More feedback to ponder at an open studio evening, where all grads, faculty and locals are invited to see what us grads are up to in our studios. I took the opportunity to set up all three large drawings so far and suspend them, also connecting them. Each drawing contains disconnected wires and it seemed they could all be strung together, so I used old typewriter ribbon to attach each one. It seems to work in a strange and dusty, impossible way. I like the idea of old wires still trying to hold together that can't quite connect or communicate.

Here are images during the daytime of the setup:

It was difficult to tell what the lighting would do after dark, and we soon found out that the fluorescents (big surprise) were a bit lacking. So we played with spots (I was sure I was going to set the tracing paper on fire, but just kept an eye on things) and found dramatic lighting to be much more suitable. It worked best as lit from the front and sort of underneath.

There was some decent feedback, but mostly I think that people were fascinated by the projection of typing hands inside the velvet accordion box. Most just wanted to know how it was working, and several liked the strange effect of projecting onto red velvet. Some even thought it was a bit creepy. One person had an interesting thought that there is something slightly humorous, perhaps deadpan (like the animation) about the suspended phone, but that is not found at all in the typewriter projection. So once again, what is it that I am trying to get at? Is there humor involved? Is it completely serious? I for one keep thinking it seems a bit morbid, but perhaps that is just me.

Still lots to figure out. More notes after a studio visit.

Speaker Horn

Thus far, this is the third drawing in the tracing paper charcoal series. It's an image of a speaker horn, actually inspired by the mechanism transmitting the disembodied voice in Fritz Lang's Dr. Mabuse. As I drew the image, I realized more and more that it seems to be about a connection with the afterlife, as well as staring into a deep, dark void (death) while also confronting the self. Some see an eye in the middle. It also looks like a lens. Once again, the cold, mechanical eye, or the mechanical recording of voice.

It didn't seem appropriate to finish the bottom or leave it completely blank. So there is a ghost of a support base and wires.

I had an interesting suggestion to make the drawing with material that I burn myself, rather than store-bought charcoal. It had sort of crossed my mind before. It is difficult to decide what should be burned though. It reminds me of Hollis Frampton's Nostalgia- burning photographs on a hotplate as we hear him recalling memories of the scene. A fleeting moment is captured and destroyed as it recognizes its own ephemerality and brief span of time.

So more to think about. In the meantime, I started hanging the drawings from the ceiling so the transparency is more evident, and also connecting all the charcoal "wires" from one drawing to the next with old typewriter ribbon. We will see how this bodes in the big open house tomorrow night!