Bashing Them Out

Artists and art-material suppliers come together at Pearl
Paint's "Great American Art Event" in New York. "Secrets" here
are bought, sold and given away. Popular instructors
demonstrate "trees, rocks and water" or "fruit, vegetables and
lace," or "how to paint 'itty bitty' paintings," or "how to
master abstraction." With lots of free paint, brushes,
stretched canvas and art boards it's a creative rummage. For
many, the gods are in the equipment. Others come for motivation
or inspiration. Most are looking for techniques to match the
quality of today's materials.

A feeling of entitlement pervades. People are attracted to
making art, and while they may have the idea that a period of
apprenticeship may be necessary in order to develop quality,
they also have the inclination to hold their noses and jump in.
My group completed two or three 11" x 14"s in a day. This while
watching my acrylic demos, looking at my slide shows and
listening to me pontificate. People are introduced to new
systems and they try things they wouldn't normally do. Some of
them screw up. Others excel--you can see them growing in front
of you. It's all part of the game and everybody understands.
Generally speaking, they leave happy.

This business of "bashing them out" has value in and out of the
personal studio. Painters, particularly beginning painters,
need to lose the sense of preciousness about their work. I've
noticed that preciousness often means "stuck." After a lifetime
of wonder it's still a mystery why some people improve and
others don't. Desire, character and even economic pressure are
factors. Talent maybe. Ego and a longing for uniqueness are
also in there somewhere. I look at folks and try to see in them
an "iron will and a butterfly mind." It seems that the
imaginative ones who also work hard ("WF"--Working Flakes) are
the ones who are soon subsidized by this worker's edge. It's
through production itself that people grow. Whether they do it
at a workshop or in a workroom, it's the working habit that
pays for the art supplies--and eventually that big studio with
the panoramic view. To get to that place a certain amount of
sacrifice may be necessary. I've told so many people: "Go to
your room." I've suggested that they go for six months or a
year. To work. To dig around in their potential. To really find
out. This morning, in New York, it may be an illusion but there
seems to be fewer people on the streets.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "He rose early, worked strenuously, and retired late. He
seemed to forget the ordinary hours for meals and would have to
be called over and over again--unfinished work frequently being
taken in hand just at this time." (Otto Bache on J. M.
Whistler)

Esoterica: The Working Flake efficiently prepares ahead more
than enough supports for her work. The time-line can be an hour
or a life. Bashing them out, one to another, the works develop
and techniques and skills are honed. Some works are honoured
and put under another light. Some become Frisbees. The WF has
the feeling she is the caretaker of a giant personal event
where freshness, understatement and growth are a byproduct. Joy
prevails. Sweat forms. Ideas breed.