2013-08-08

August Exhibition


four paintings selected for
Anne Irwin Fine Art Summer Show
opening August 9th at 6pm to 8:30pm
August 9th through August 31st
Atlanta


red wary vessel , 24" x 24" oil, acrylic, and graphite on canvas. 2012


detail, tight as cloth.
tight as cloth, 24" x 24" oil, acrylic, and graphite on canvas. 2012

detail, marauder
maurauder, 24" x 24" oil, acrylic, and graphite on canvas. 2012 - 2013

detail, beggar
beggar, 24" x 24" oil, acrylic, and graphite on canvas. 2012 - 2013

2013-07-17

summer


summer is short.
10 weeks.
regenerating, observing, documenting, searching.
here's what happened.

an airplane

visit to birthplace
central park
 catching "Boxer at Rest",  Roman 4th century bc during it's short visit to New York
 quiet time gazing at favorite ceilings at 
the new york public library
and grand central station.
time on my favorite fjord, the hudson
 thinking and sketching,
a studio visit with art critic, Cinque Hicks
some painting
video
video
visit to the farm in alabama
with some field driving.
video
 a few road trip games.
studying the design of a classic car,
and lamenting the loss of my first super car...(boo).
diego rivera and frida kahlo at the high.
lounging with family in long island.
a tea party,
 some architectural work,
preparing for a show in August in Atlanta.
lining up exhibitions for 2014.
and most importantly,  spending the next 3 weeks with my kids, (limiting the iPad...).

in early august i return to my studio.
everyday.
8am to 2pm or more.

2013-06-11

fruit flies in your studio? - a non-toxic photo essay.


i think fruit flies like the linseed suspension of oil paint.
anyway, they are in my studio.
(i don't eat in there, really)
so here is the easiest, non toxic way to get them to go away. kitchen, bathroom, studio, etc.

-  you need  -

a mason jar that narrows to the top
warm water
a lemon
apple cider vinegar
a fruit or vegetable smelling hand soap


1. fill jar half way with warm water and squeeze half a lemon in the water. mix.
2. drop the lemons in the jar.
3. add some soap and fill with water so that the head of the jar is filled with sweet bubbles.
4. add a few ounces of apple cider vinegar to top it off.
5. wait. repeat/refresh. you can use the same lemon for a few days.
works all summer in your studio, kitchen, and more.

2013-05-19

inner shell

the work coat.

for sixteen years i had a weekly uniform more or less, although a fellow male partner considered mine to be more artsy than most architects. i think his perception of this had more to do with 15 years of constantly changing pixie haircuts, occasional bright wool wraps (offices are cold), and the fact that although i became a well practiced architect i have been an artist for a lot longer. 

when i was old enough to take the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan i started taking weekend classes at The Fashion Institute of Technology in life drawing, design, graphics, fine arts and photography.  when i was considering future colleges, the end goal was an art school in my hometown of New York City. during my late teenage years i experimented with clothes: jeans, flannel shirts, vintage t-shits, lace things, 1920's hats, black tights, dresses i found on the lower east side, and various jackets. i went to galleries. i went to museums. but most importantly i explored the city and looked at people.

once i entered the studio system at Parsons at 17, the experiment  in outer visual play continued. i never wore sweatpants, or gear with my school name on it because that kind of apparel did not exist. in the fine arts department there were a lot of goth looking kids because it was time for goth in general. 

NYC was in the pre-Tompkins Park riot days and soon after the post riot days. we were post-punk. the lower east side and west village was a place to find great old stuff. when i changed majors and entered the architecture program, because i was fascinated with the sociology and political study of space-making, our fashion in studio remained relatively artsy, as well as oblivious to clothing trends as we never slept. we were in architecture school in a serious, hard core studio system that for seven years deprived us of sleep. i had long spiral curls and looked out of date, more pre-raphealite than creative, but i didn't care because i was too tired to think about my outer wrapper.

architecture school is focused on conceptual thinking and not so much technical business. we conceived and enabled abstract thoughts about living and then made stuff.  for students of architecture, professionalism comes later, when one is interning for three years just like a newly graduated doctor. after one interns professionally, there is a very long exam. i took 9 tests plus one more. (now i think there are only 7.) as i interned and later practiced, i learned how to discuss business like a lawyer or someone with a MBA, handle other peoples money, think about buildings like a scientist, physicist, biologist, and of course, continue to conceptually imagine enormous things. i also learned how to wear camouflage of the professional kind.


the uniform (office)
long black crepe jacket with winter white pants, very dark tailored jeans, creme colored or black top.
heels.
a scarf, brightly colored, when the office was cold.
black, grey, cream, white, beige, blue. 
one pink velvet jacket. one emerald green jacket.
black leather jackets. (my favorite)
sometimes a dress.
brown wool jacket, beige pants. cowboy boots that were hidden by pants.

the uniform (job site)
khakis, t-shirt, work boots, hard hat. 
this brown wool jacket.

the male business suit is a 17c invention.
looking through my closet i am fascinated by the selections i made regarding jackets. in a mostly male profession, where less than 20% of licensed architects are female, i made a conscious effort to keep the inner wrapper as my own. the men of the office wore more brightly colored shirts, pink, key lime green,  blue, purple. funky glasses. but the female architects wore more subdued jackets: 
here is my favorite brown jacket again, from the outside.


here is the inside. 


all of my jackets have this private inner life. bright. textured. unexpected. self-defining. small details on buttons, stitches, pockets that seem neutral to the outside viewer. no one but ourselves really marvel over the inside of a jacket. a jacket's inner color and feel is for us. it's message is private. perhaps linings are a protective wrappers to keep us true to ourselves when we need reassurance or promote inner fantasy. perhaps they are silent protests, or quiet statements regarding our situations, political, social or communal.  lately, i am very interested in this kind of glimpse of the self. 

it's a still life self portrait.