No Pictures: Notes from the Studio
No Pictures: Notes from the Studio
5/2025
Time
I am increasingly interested in the concept of time. It identifies something that does not exist as we think we know it, and also it moves and circles in nonlinearness.
It has taken a long time to come to the form of presentation for the work I have been doing for the last year and a half. It finally came to me in a rush of realization, as ideas about my work often do. There is a time of ruminating and then BAM! after which time I think - how could that conclusion have eluded you for such a long time? Just the same, it does arrive. With that comes much work to bring everything to fruition. To make things visible, without words.
It has been a fiercely productive time since returning from Oakland in February. The work that has been taking up my mind, body, and spirit will manifest in one of a kind "books". A "book", here, is a broad definition. I challenge all words and their meanings these days. I was surprised to find that I had chosen the format that inspired the work in the first place, since June of '21. My work has been about the structure of a book, text from a book - and that such an obvious outcome was not available to me, in my mind, I find surprising. However, it certainly seems obvious now - but also serious. There are numerous ways to present this work - the work now becomes, sculptural, performative, interactive - painting as a service...... hmm.............. and it does rely on a sensitive viewer - one who is open and aware. Of what? Time. And there is the circle or the simultaneity. There is an arduousness to the making of this work.
4/2025
volume I unprotected
shredded, lacerated, hanging. out. assembled dis-assembled, taped together. the Viewer, Audience, Participant. must be cautious, careful. the experience of holding and falling apart at any moment. a Responsibility to look closely. to witness. paint. construction. deconstruction. the responsibility to keep it together or from falling apart, or not. confidence and risk. history. memory. Reinforced on the outside - fragile by hand. You run the risk of damaging unclear; nothing is clear. can't see clearly haste and exhaustion arithmomania counting miscounting
complete disorientation all nights become one.
4/2025
packaging and packaging
packaging
what is definitive and has been for all of this work. Packaging - food packaging of all kinds: grocery bags, cereal boxes, cookie boxes, turkey burger boxes, cat food packing for cans of food. a Chewy delivery. Oat milk containers, the list goes on - everything has come from the store, passed through my kitchen, and consumed by me, my husband, our cats, and guests. Sharply aware of our running water, medical care, and every small and big thing that surrounds us - that provides true or perceived comfort. My anger is enormous with those who comment that the surface of the work is "just" taped to the wall and painted on a paper bag or cardboard. Our first world expectations have crippled our perception.
packaging (presentation)
no didactic text. None.
placed on a flat surface - a table - with chairs in which to sit and read the work.
a title and a date (if that). work should be held closely. touched examined. "Read" through the senses of sight and touch and sat with until the response is felt from the solar plexis - center of the body. The heart. The stomach, the nerve endings. First the viewer must find those tools. They must be humane.
the work should be shown, spoken about. communicated through and with speech or silence.
silence is the most important interactive tool to use with the work.
4/2025
I misspoke
A glaring error jumped out at me after a recent podcast (more on that later) I recorded with an esteemed former student. Talking about my work always includes my Ancestors. As artists, we see that it has been for some time now that "everyone" is making work that addresses their Ancestors, their identity. It is as popular a theme as being genuine in the artworld. (Yes, i am pointing to inherent problems in both of those popular cultural pursuits).
An unintended consequence of doing this work "about" our ancestors is that we have called our ancestors out. They are our history, "blood of our blood," as I stated in the podcast. They are here now, speaking and rocking a universe whose population has forgotten what brought us, me, you, - here. They are in this moment, with us, en masse.
My Ancestor(s) are responding to this time based on the wisdom they gained. We artists have "conjured" their presences together to witness what we are engaging with as a culture/cultures.
I was wrong.
I realize I've had it reversed. We did not conjure them, call them out, - bring them together at this time.
No.
They arrived. They came to call us out. What is happening now - our collective being- is absolutely unacceptable. We did not call on our ancestors; they are calling on us. We are being asked to continue the actions they were unable to finish. We must continue, right now, with the information they have given us to address the moments they already responded to in their time. Our times have met, are meeting, dovetailing, colliding. We must continue our work by going through their work - whatever work that was. This is a spiral path upward, our times are one.
2/2025
end of February - I do not know how much dates matter anymore. at least here on these digital pages.
I have been cataloging work in the studio and participating in a few shows so my days have been full with administration. back home about one month, now, after 2.5 months in Oakland. A stubborn and graceful death there, and a rugged legacy. Does one contribute more when they are living or after they are gone? or once they have spent time on earth do they just always continue in those who continue after them? My ability to focus on my work since my return has been laser.
linear and spiral my work; where it has come from - also a legacy - one that i am called to converse with daily that feels as if it will continue indefinitely. my responsibility is to address that legacy in my way but under no circumstances stop. i look at what i have just written in the prior paragraph and see that I have answered my own questions.
the energy of those i love, admire (d) ( and i suspect those i don't or we don't ) their energy is pervasive and very real always. it does take different forms. a legacy, as we often think of it is not the "thing". it is the energy of the legacy that is of significance. the energy of the legacy is what matters. some of us go through our entire lives not knowing or understanding that. legacy is ancestors and our responsibility to them. lineage. not something that everyone understands. path. the path we are on that we have been called to. we need to watch all of this. it is our responsibility to understand this intimately. what is missed if we do not understand all of this? it feels akin to individuals who travel the world but never really see anything.
1/2025
the experiment
This is not an experiment, actually, nor a resolution in this new year. It is a return to a more focused, clear, and quieter time in my life when my thoughts were complete when the "image came into my mind after what it is". When a morning in bed with tea was one of planning or daydreaming or just witnessing my breathing. A time of hearing ambient sounds inside and out. When I knew that I was feeling something through the fiber of my body as opposed to conceptually understanding "it" to be the case. When my time was used thoughtfully my discursive thoughts were not planted, but in fact, came from my own being in the world.
I'm turning off my phone. That's all.
Yes, there are times when it is necessary -- but there are far more times when it is not. In fact, most it is not.
10/2024
the unworkable
it is not easy. more importantly, it's a danger. not practiced carefully it can manifest a life of excuses for running away from personal challenges.
the unworkable. i have been fortunate to have profound teachers - to have so many comes from the reality that it may be only one transmission, from one individual, in one moment. a pearl of wisdom came from my teacher Will Evans in a conversation about working with the unworkable. i have carried the conversation with me for 30 years.
it is important to understand that this is within the context of practice. it comes from the basic belief that "everything is workable". meaning pretty much the way it sounds. all situations can (and should) be worked with and through using wisdom and compassion.
with that, it is understood "to acknowledge that something is unworkable is working with it."
this may sound simple but it carries an immense weight in its outcome.
i was taught this early in my practice. the energy of a transmission is that one feels it very literally, through the fiber of their body. it "rings" so deeply through, that not only does one remember it but it becomes part of their daily process of being or in this case - making things work. hence the complication. it is a form of medicine to be carefully considered.
that is all.
10/2024
paint differently or perish
Nothing is going to be the same after this particular time. This particular year. In fact, does our year start on January 1st or does it start on October 7 ? What has social media given us?
Nothing is going to be the same after what we have witnessed - what we have seen. Recent years were leading to this - but now I am reminded of Barnett Newman who when he was talking about the evolution of Abstract Expressionism said " We thought the world was coming to an end " - so why not start painting [ the practice ] all over again? They threw out everything they thought painting was because there was an energy of anger and hopelessness. They were not saying "Let's trash painting" - but "Let's start it over" as it had never existed.
So all that old shit we have been doing - can be left behind. New definitions or no definitions. Either. Start over because any rule that held us before no longer applies. Our generation's largest visual language veil has been lifted, torn..... destroyed. Any recent "false starts" of revolution in the visual science of painting can come together now.
Paint differently or perish.
10/2024
it's not in the cushion
This summer began with a lovely opportunity Ann Landi of Wright Contemporary in Taos extended to me, to speak about Agnes Martin, Ad Reinhardt and Buddhism. If you are interested you can find the talk here.
The talk rests heavily on Agnes Martin's "practice" as a meditator. Toward the end of our conversation, I became aware that I was remiss in defining "practice" clearly or at least my interpretation of practice.
Taos is always a teacher. One needs only to be and observe there. It cloisters important thinkers in the visual arts. Many in the audience knew the basics of the meditative tradition. Flashback to the 1990s and my working in Chicago, I had an extraordinary job in the City. My office, one of many cubicles, on the 2nd floor; "Architecture and Planning" was upstairs, no cubicles there, 4th floor. Between our floors - other offices and the bathroom. As was the case with many, it seemed by 10:00 or 10:30 am we were all on the way to the bathroom, a brief walk to get rid of the morning coffee so we could start on the afternoon coffee. Every day I entered at about the same time. I always saw a woman, 50ish, Japanese American, smartly and simply dressed, from the 4th floor sitting in an old wooden straight back office chair circa 1960s, typical of a desk chair that Chicago Public School teachers sat in.
When I say sitting, I mean she was relaxed, straight back, legs uncrossed, 90 degree bend at the knees, hands folded still and gracefully, in her lap. She situated herself near the window, in the corner of the room so the sun was filling the space in which she sat. She was gracious to everyone, including me, who would acknowledge her as they walked in. It did not take long before I realized that it was not expected that I acknowledge her. It was best not to. She was meditating. This was our " legal" break time for the City, which she used regularly to sit in the quietest space possible in the building. I see her as clearly now as I did 30 years ago.
Now, to the present day, speaking with the folks at Wright Contemporary about Martin's "practice" and the generous pointing out from an audience participant who knew Agnes and clarified in my mind the following: practice in the large world of Zen in which I am the tiniest of novices, is not about the cushion. Some folks who heard me speak of Martin's practice thought in that direction. We who practice - in our haste- make it sound as though sitting on the cushion is the practice. As if that is where it all happens. One could argue that is the case. However, I would offer that practice is everywhere, constant, and far beyond one's "standard" image. It is a form that we exist in and then it disappears. Words do not suffice. It is experiential.
The dear woman from the Architecture and Planning Department and Agnes were both practicing..The woman in the bathroom on her old wooden chair and Agnes in the afternoon in her rocker. They both also practiced at their desks and in the studio. Their practice disappeared.
10/2024
times of changing
a woefully inaccurate heading. what am I saying?
i am talking about everything being in a constant state of change whether we know it or not. and whatever the most current term is for the "woo woo" that was new age, and the now popular sentiment of letting go, or getting rid of "what no longer serves you". the shedding of old skin that everyone does as they get older --- if they are allowed to get older --- if they allow themselves to get older. if they permit themselves to grow.
it is recognizing the lies we have told ourselves through the years so that we were able to survive. i see it constantly. in myself and in others. the change is continuous and then shift, change, shift, change, shift. a rhythm particular to each of us but it takes place just the same. for some it is not liking ourselves anymore, for others, it is not being where we thought we would be. unresolved family secrets, past events, the list is loooong. epiphanies, sometimes slow others quick. they do not only happen once, they are continuous. we hear them when we have time and space, a breath, when we have the financial means, or when we are completely broke.
"what no longer serves you" can be a lie you have lived that you do not even know was there. a thin skin or form of callus (callous). So much dried hard skin that it breaks off of you - or skin so constricting that you must squeeze out of it.
imho, it is good to see exactly what form (s) one is taking in order to witness the change. it's instructive. not only the action of what is being left behind, but what it is that caused it in the first place. what did you do to cause it? not someone else (that is another discussion). what was your role in that scenario?
i do think of Agnes Martin in this context. of her well known comment regarding giving up all ideas and beliefs - she identifies the Theory of Relativity as one of the most difficult ideas she had to give up. she did do it, or she said she did. there is a particular brilliance in having seen and understood so much, that none of it mattered anymore. this does not mean one is negative or angry or suspicious. it means there is a sense of understanding the world in a non-attached way. that one's actions are genuine and energetic, moving forward. there is an understanding of the continuous change that to others may seem like a burst. in fact, it has been a long, well marinated, ongoing, lived experience that is blossoming, shedding, blossoming.
9/2024
times of collecting
there are times of intense studio work and intense collecting. collecting is studio work as well and it is fierce. it brings many thoughts together that have been felt in the ether, that I have been watching, feeling, listening to, talking with others about, reading, walking, writing, intuiting.
we all learn differently about our world. always an observer and a listener, that is how I learned. not speaking much growing up, instead, I watched the spaces I was in, what people said, how they acted. interestingly, many did then and still do "take advantage" of my approach, they speak constantly. consequently, I treasure those with whom I have excellent conversations, a good give and take. they are rare.
so it is a time of collecting now, some 60 years of experience have folded into a nondual existence. i do not have answers. i am clear on my vision. expectations are "managed" (as per Enrique Martinez Celaya). the comfort of being an artist now is ....comfortable. what i mean by that is years ago I was aware and listened to artists who were the age I am now who were bitter, complaining, angry, jealous (and on) about the art world(s). their heads were filled with "visions of sugar plums dancing". they felt "owed" for being artists. this had/has to do with a lot of things; among them the artist's perception of audience and a lack of attention to the art history of which we, makers, are a part. audience. if the work is "for everyone" it is for no one. the pain of trying to be everything to everyone fails immensely and holds the maker back for as long they think of the audience or those who are the "stylists" ( yes we are styled) in our "business".
the most recent work I have posted on Instagram is as it should be. the discomfort that may be felt, the oddity, down to the way the work is lit is its isness. it is holding all i have been collecting.
9/2024
the silent makers
the silent tradition is reached; it has always been. there is a point that silence is chosen - met, or even further - silence chooses the maker.
this comes with identifying the "Source" ( a term used by Rick Rubin in The Creative Act: A Way of Being. ). i would offer that until that time of identification, the artist fills whatever space in which they work, with the unedited noise of the universe. at some point a tone can be reached - all else subsides. this does not mean that creative work becomes less of a struggle; instead, space becomes expansive. something to be traversed, negotiated, or danced with. the work opens.
this shift is necessary. it is about maturity. if not, there is a slavishness in the process and appearance of the work. it becomes a labor.
in silence there is freedom from labor. silence possesses its own form. within it rests egolessness, grace, surrender, and a clear understanding between the work and the audience. there is no aggressiveness or anger and most importantly no consideration or desire for recognition.
7/2024
The artist's statement
I have written a lot this month. Too much. Unusual for me online. There is much static in the world, so it also manifests here.
This writing is practical. I have been asked for an updated artist statement. I marvel at others agonizing over this practice -- it betrays a type of ego to worry about this process. .... Thinking that what is being said is of importance as opposed to contributing to a larger whole - to the story. Just one more voice. It needs to be clear, beyond that nothing else. __________________________________________________________
Artist's Statement
My work took a turn after October 7, 2023. The materials remain similar; the root inspiration to my family lineage continues. The paintings are small, numinous gestures. Like many, I am overcome by the relentless horrors that continue in Palestine.
For those who have followed the trajectory of my work; it is well known that my grandfather's handmade prayer book, c.1930, for St. Anthony gave birth to the materiality and abstract structure I have been working with for several years. The substrate for all my work is tape, graphite, and discarded food packaging on which geometric abstractions in gouache are painted. Language is paramount in the titling of my work: English, Italian, Latin. When translating the sweetly crafted prayer book, I was stunned to find intercessions for orphans from the Nakba. What was devastating to my grandfather in 1948/49 and on, devastates me 75 years later.
7/2024
the visual sciences
There is little glory in this practice. Establishing my visual language is a joy. Momentarily catching the cadence of the universe and being able to translate that is a gift. When the fortunate note is struck that is the ideal, beyond that, it is work. If one cares about the existence of the work and its audience, it is grueling. Showing the work is painful. Not because of judgment or critique, but because my soul has been revealed. It is akin to one's soul being stolen by a photograph.
The conversations that come from the work are important. The role of the maker: to "tell" the time.
For me, it has always been work. An ethic, a tradition I have been given that I have practiced diligently, that I hold in the highest regard, and that I appreciate to the depths of my existence.
7/2024
1949 2024
..the gap of silence amid the constant drone and hyperalertness. the thrust of a single silent pause. rare - a brief gap.
can it be heard? better yet. felt. it does happen because it is life, the gap. but to be able to sense it. what are the single, momentary rare silences - when are they? so slim, slight, fleeting. nearly impossible to identify or grasp, fathom; certainly not to hold. insanity.
a bird, an alternative to a cry or scream of pain, anguish, death - perhaps simultaneous.
the sacred, a private moment, ritual - few left to gather - together, two-gether - to gather together. to let go.
a place to shelter. a prayer. to hold. to take a breath of one's own - to breathe for others. the heaving sigh.
Nascondimi. the only prayer.
7/2024
Speaking and silence
This morning coming out of some sort of haze from this past weekend; I think of silence and public speaking and the stuff artists make. The experience for the viewer - my job as a producer of material culture and all of the whining and complaining by artists I am surrounded by. I am a listener and that can be a "problem". Few ever ask questions that matter. They are in a continuous state of declaration. Much of it is unhelpful. It is a particular arena.
I ponder returning to the studio after a hiatus to prepare a recent talk. Interruptions. Often for the benefit of others. My benefit is to be working here. A shift from the mountain to the desert. This return was arrhythmic. Have only been here three weeks and am faced with traveling that I do not want to do.
___
When I speak publically about my work I feel something has escaped. It is not a pleasant feeling. I think of individuals who believe their soul is stolen when a photograph has been taken of them. This is not about ownership or copyright - I am talking about energy - identity - being. Considering the presence of social media in our lives - perhaps this belief should be more seriously reconsidered. In online photos, in real time, we witness some of the most tortured individuals in the world. What do we take with us as we view these images? Souls whose most private moments are no longer - is there a private moment? The image does "make" a particular voice to be listened to.
It is exhausting to lose one's soul - to a conversation, to a photograph - whether currently or for a lifetime. Our bodies hold a history - some believe many histories. If we listen to our bodies we know exactly what they hold whether we want to admit it or not. What we hold entirely, our body projects forward. Our actions are a result of what we hold. More importantly, our unresolved understanding of what we hold makes us responsible for erroneous projections that are not well thought out and can be exceedingly harmful.
True sharing is a unique gift. A true response to that sharing is even more rare. Does some of this awareness of losing the soul come from a cultural reality that includes holding back some truths because there can be a damaging response from one or more people --- will our soul be taken?
Few listen carefully, exactly, without bias - some things are better left unsaid.
In the words of Roshi Joan Halifax
Is it true?
Is it kind?
Is it beneficial?
Is it necessary?
Is it the right time?
6/2024
Mind
Mind. Here means, mind/heart - heart/mind they are the same.
The studio - the world - conversations dictate the essence of a direction.
So now, I am thinking deeply about mind ( funny ) - the energy of mind - of love - of commitment -of an ethos.
When we say someone has lost their mind. How we judge another's mind - how we read the mind based on someone's behavior - all the things we don't know. Our instinct is not part of this equation because we do not take the time to pay attention, quietly, to what is happening around us. In observation. Quiet long observation without attachment.
What minds do you wish to commune with? Which minds do you hope to witness the essence of? Where do you find essences of a mind? How do you know when you have come upon one, them. What do you do with them once you have found them?
3/2024
Continued
Papa was both quietly devout and revolutionary (hence my love of Ernesto Cardinal). It was my job to let him know dinner was ready when he and Grandma lived with us. I would be sent downstairs to his basement wine cellar. There he would be, sitting still on a slightly creaky wooden chair - handmade rope seat, holding his rosary also handmade, with a catacomb bone-backed crucifix. He sat in a three quarter pose. When I arrived each evening, I saw him from his back and right side, slightly hunched over as he read. Most often he wore a light weight, blue gray check, flannel shirt. He held a hand sewn prayer book with pages of collected ephemera from our local parish, St. Cornelius, death notices of friends and family cut from the local paper, the Anima Christi written in Italian and lastly a plethora of pages for St. Anthony in support of orphans.
Those who have followed my work know that this book is foundational to my painting. I have studied its contents for a long time. Most recently, something new and stirring in the body of the book called my attention. The orphans in the printed image that Papa had in his book were Palestinian. Along with that image is another of a group of priests, the focus being Msgr. Thomas McMahon who was the head of the first Pontifical Mission and Secretary General of the CNEWA (Catholic Near East Welfare Association), followed by written information from our Parish. All of this a response, by the Vatican, to the Nakba of 1948.
In 2023-24, this moment, I am making work in response to his prayer book. We are both addressing the same topic - the genocide of Palestinians. It has been 74 years since my grandfather was documenting and praying for the lives of Palestinian orphans.
My work up until October 7th 2023 addressed issues of simultaneity of language in discursive thought, the roots of which are immigration, homeland, history and ancestors. Grandpa (Papa) has been the core from which all of this work emanates. When the events of October 7th began, I was overcome by the horrors of this slaughter, I continue to be. I did not understand why my response was so intense - even though many are responding to these events because we are able to access them through social media - my feelings were very direct. What I realized as I looked at Papa's book was that this was clearly an issue that was of deep concern for him. He has left me that conversation; and now he and I are witnessing the repetition of an attempt at a most murderous and inhumane cultural erasure.
2/2024
in pieces
Mixed media, collage, assemblage. I appreciate that when the work leaves the studio it belongs to the space it inhabits and to those seeing. However, the work for me, is simpler - these are paintings. The substrate is taped together which I understand is where the viewer can attribute a number of technical headings. It is a surface on which to paint - cobbled together neatly and with an abstract structure in mind. Yet, it is just a surface.
Our time. Moments of holding shit together, in any way we can. Watching things falling apart in front of us. In real time. Everything fragile and at the same time shockingly strong. The structure of my work is based on a 1930's book, still in fine condition - holding together, hand made by grandfather.
The point here - we are using what we have to communicate our anxiety, concern, desperation, horror or for that matter the exact opposite. Our joys, reverence, a sacred view - all of it fleeting, transient and impermanent.
My work is strained, fragmented, the material holding. At the same time, how long will the center hold? My thinking is- it is not holding - at least the center we thought we knew is not holding.
We now witness a particular type of first in our relationship with social media; constant minute-to-minute violence, death, blood, masses of concrete rubble, individuals, flesh, murder and destruction. The "most", in the shortest amount of time, in our experience of modern warfare. Perhaps most shocking in all of this, even beyond the agonizingly relentless images is, - no mercy.
And with this I am continuously brought back to Avalokiteshvara who hears the cries of the world. I don't know how much more Avalokiteshvara can actually withstand, how much more can be held? What we are being taught by social media is a type of fact. If we are paying attention, we see that this reality has been going on infinitely, for many people, in many places. Not only must there be a ceasefire - but we must acknowledge that the horror we are witnessing now, in Palestine, is one of the greatest teachers of this lifetime. It is a monumental cost for all of those teaching us; lineages of families, all ages, gone in seconds. As of today 28,000 individual lives in four months - -. The center is barely holding. Perhaps it is only Palestine that is keeping it together.
11/2023
North American Censorship
The horror of this time continues to leave me speechless. For me, words cannot begin to express what I am feeling and thinking. That does not mean I am saying nothing, but it seems that my visual work is shouldering the responsibility. A recent discussion I had with someone in the "art world" stated to me, their reality, that some gallerists are looking closely at artists Instagram and websites; choosing not to show work based on what appears to be artists' political leanings. Censorship. Not necessarily of work but of the individual who makes the work.
Protest and censorship come in many forms - Modern artists faced the label of "Degenerate". Nancy Spero's war paintings, Leon Golub's Mercenaries all "questionable" at the time of their creation. Artists now exiled for their work, living in the US and around the world in places seeming to be less and less tolerant of free speech.
Personal liberation is at the root of the work; either the tone of the work strikes or the expectations that arise in the mind of the viewer complete the work---sometimes both.
As some reading this are aware, I am from Chicago, and I often describe it as a place that "made me who I am". Among the most sage teachings - and there are many from my hometown - is that one needs to "pick a team". You pick your team, you remain loyal, and you're in it for the long haul.
This does not mean you are disrespectful of the players on the other team. You have friends on both teams -- but when the rubber meets the road you don't switch allegiance. It's the Cubs or the Sox. You are recognized by the city park you are from, your community parish, the bar across the street, or the major cross streets where you live. That is your identity. There is a certain degree of simplicity with this and there is also complexity. You have your independence - you do your own thing. But - the core of who you are, your ethical compass, comes from your community. Ultimately, whether it is literal or otherwise -- you are taken care of by "your place". When the shit hits the fan, your response is in the fiber of who you are and all those who contributed -- good or not. You are held by it. It is your innate sense of direction. Knowing when to walk away and when to stand strong in support of what is right. It is your balance.
If you are quiet long enough you can feel that steadiness in your solar plexus when you stand, when you sit, when you walk. A combination of ancestors, your lived experience and your current environment. Your mind and heart are cradled by this. It is a basic goodness - a free will - and with that you pick your fucking team.
11/ 2023
Palestine
Every day sentences emerge about our current condition. It is "our" condition. From there the work arrives.
If you are not responding in some way to this time, you are complacent to this horror and you are agreeing to this condition. You have given your consent.
If you are an artist, you are particularly remiss in your lack of response, because the visual world is dominant, and this is your work. Humanity is your work. The humane is your work.
10/2023
Full Circle, Full Spiral
When have we come full circle? Is it important to recognize? Does it happen for everyone? Who tells us? Can we see it ourselves?
“Keep your actions faithful”. A Buddhist teaching that I felt most deeply when I found out that it was written above the entrances to Enrique Martinez Ceyala’s studios by his hand. The action of writing that alone is a teacher. Fast forward to this moment as I read letters exchanged between Ernesto Cardenal and Thomas Merton – then back to a few months ago to see my dearest friend of 40 years point out to me that I have gone “full circle” – she does this by sending me a photo of a work I created in the late 1980s. What she points to is absolutely and deeply true, something only she would see. I begin to trace the path.
And now my arrival to Santa Fe; which year? ’80? ‘81? ‘82? Years..., ok, ... 2022. An important understanding has been opened and closed. “Closed” in this case means sealed. It has sealed who I am. The proverbial conversation or promise or both with my 18-year-old self.
The conversation was initiated in order to pick up where I had closed the door. Why close the door? Because there needed to be a retreat. And there was for 20 + years and then --- now --- all the teachings of that time and all the teaching I have done brings me to a particular clarity. This is a simultaneous return and continuation. It is old and new. It is my roots, my honesty, and for some, will be an unknown. For those who have not known the history of my work; "full circle" is true --- or perhaps it is a full spiral - as Webster would define it: "winding around a center or pole and gradually receding from or approaching it".
It is in some way a comfort to rest in the once closed and familiar personal space(s) that I left many years ago.
The retreat was necessary, and equally necessary is the return.
9/2023
Note: On the Joan Mitchell Fellowship 2023
I was deeply honored to be nominated for a Joan Mitchell fellowship this year. I would offer that whether one is nominated for a fellowship or receives one, it is a game changer. At least it was for me. The nomination clarified a litany of things.
Three simple things are below:
The first and the most important was feeling a difference between acknowledgment and recognition. It is a paper-thin veil that separates the two that is for sure. However, there is a difference. Suffice it to say, I easily can favor acknowledgment. The nomination acknowledged my work. There are many extremely powerful artists in the world making very captivating work; I do not need “the world” to recognize that I am doing my work – the acknowledgment of my work by the establishment (let’s not choke on that term; instead accept it for what it is) is sufficient. The recognition through publicity, the monetary award which is immensely helpful and gratifying, and the expectation of what work is to come is a chapter in making that I realized, for me, felt restrictive. It is a performance that at this point I do not want to do. To my surprise, a weight was lifted when the awards were announced. I go back to work, albeit restricted financially, but in some ways that seems like a small price (sorry for the pun). This makes me aware that I am, perhaps, a different generation of artist.
Recognition, for me, can nurture a notion of lack. The acknowledgment is a nod that is softer quieter and full. The truth of why one makes work is challenged by a nomination like this. What is your greater purpose? What is the longevity of work? Receiving a fellowship cannot help but affect (and effect) one’s production. Money and the “luxury” of the field are likely to alter something about what one is doing. We all see those who received recognition and end up succumbing to a type of making that is different than what the artist was originally recognized for.
Secondly - timing. My work currently is not within the stream of a popular trend. It could be said, easily, that my work is currently very unpopular. This is clear and obvious and there is nothing wrong with that. It is all timing. Ultimately, History makes the decisions.
And finally, I cannot underscore enough, the beauty and poignancy of the artists and work that have been chosen this year. The award takes an incredible financial load off of artists’ shoulders; we know our “out-of-pocket” over the years is enormous. And perhaps even more so, the sacrifice of what we have done without, that severely restricted the making of our work.
There is some sort of learning curve in all of this that I feel, more than I can articulate. Ultimately it has something to do with resting in the awareness of acknowledgment; a type of seeing that is not necessarily spoken of but is of a type of quiet appreciation for which I am very grateful.
8/2023
Found Notes from Planning "In the Garden in the Distance"
(9/12/21)
As I am getting ready for my next show - to be named, I came across these ideas from In the Garden, in the Distance. I like them.
A Conscious Stream on the Path of Abstraction
I didn’t think often of my childhood. Now, as I am older, it slowly unfurls. Nostalgia - pieces of memory and questions. What makes me who I am at this time? I never had time before to consider…. Who does when they are trying to survive in their teens, twenties, and on?
But now…..
I am finally allowing the cradle that surrounds me to be, let go. How does one acknowledge and discuss a relationship with the energies of those who have passed/past? Agnes Martin, Ad Reinhardt, my grandfather; did Agnes Martin teach me how to engage with all of them? Or has the cradle given permission to find these energies…? Thomas Merton, D.T. Suzuki, his museum in Kanazawa, Japan….
Where have I landed? I have not. Instead, I float continuously between small spaces – moving between an austere and minimal upbringing by an immigrant family and the influence of Eastern philosophy and practice. This is woven together by a golden thread of fine art education that began at age 11.
Where does that leave my life’s work as an artist? It leaves it right in the center of Abstract art’s earliest European and American roots; combined with a desire to identify a visual language that conveys a spirit or a truth or both.
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It rains lightly as I write. I hear each drop of rain on the aluminum roof. Every single drop takes its turn and then moves on to its new home and form. Here, the place I have lived for 20 years is a pink morning, cool for the first time in weeks.
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I am last in line to hold and acknowledge your blood and to speak your names with understanding. In the Garden, in the Distance embodies the spaces in which I exist. Abstract art, a practice of symbols – a different language – which, realistically, is what often frustrates a viewer – not understanding the language that is being presented.
The most useful definition I have heard for abstraction came from the painter Robert Motherwell who quotes his teacher, mathematician, and philosopher Alfred North Whitehead. Whitehead talks about abstraction as the residue of the essence of things.
This rings true. In the 21st Century Abstraction takes many forms – at the same time the root of circles, squares, triangles, rectangles, etc, combined with color, shapes and forms, repetition of units, and monochrome and their inherent properties are what make such a diverse language and yes, the language sometimes needs to be translated for those who do not speak it – because the language has meaning - all abstraction has meaning. The more one studies the language of abstraction the more one understands.
And that is where one begins to enter through the simplicity of line shape and color (layer 1). Surface (layer 2) when and where the work was made (layer 3).
Time, place experience. In some ways exceedingly personal in others universal. What is that balance?
What is the balance of symbol and a material of shape and form that communicates the story and how does one choose that language? The visual language of art. For me it has been a way to offer a personal unknown that ultimately manifests as one view of our lived experience the specific made universal.
In the Zen tradition, all bodies moving in unison are one body. We are one body. Abstraction is a common language square, triangle, square, color.
In the Garden, In the Distance as a phrase floats on its own. We attach the meaning based on our lived experience. It is an abstraction until we engage with the possibility of its meaning.
What is present and familiar may also be obscured by time and memory.
8/2023
The New Website
It is August. Shockingly. Record heat in many places in the world. Santa Fe a bit milder, but testing us all just the same. For quite some time, I have been thinking about further simplification of my studio practice. Is that possible? Always. Some aspects are visible, others not. This is a reaction to the oversaturation of media in general and the self-importance that many artists are rolling around in.
...Perhaps, another post in a month or two of a list of things that led to this realization. Until then. Here it is, my new website on Google. Who knew?.. Fast, furious, simple - no frills. Three pages. First page: only four images of my current work. Instagram, which I do greatly appreciate as a studio tool and curate carefully, documents my regular studio activities. A bit of commentary to support the work, if someone wants to understand more theory and personal thoughts, is available there.
Second page: general statement on the work, artist statement, and abbreviated CV.
Last page: You are here - looking at my studio notes. There are many. Over time, I will add those that seem to be most relevant from the other website for those who want to do the deep dive.
The entire "old" KiesslingPainter.com website? What about that? I will shut it down and hold onto the content for reference.
I do believe visual art is visual - one must sit with the work. And any thing - any form, can be understood by any one if time is taken. All visual work can speak for itself. The viewer only needs to take the time to look and listen with sincerity.
4/2023
Single Pointed Emptiness: You’re Not an Artist
It’s morning. Grateful that we have had water on the mountain. I am wrapping up “The North” and getting ready to leave for New Mexico. It is time to return. Being on the mountain, making work, and connecting with folks here for the last few months is more than enough. Studio work is always primary. More now, than it has ever been because it is full-time. It was always a trade, a decision, a balance. Any and all sacrifices are worth making to make work. Most things are not sacrifices. If one is doing what they love — nothing is a sacrifice.
All this to say less was always more for me. Fewer people, fewer words, less self. Four artists and what they taught me come to mind. Teachings embodied; deeply, daily – as I walk into the studio.
Patrick Dougherty; I heard him speak years ago. Someone in the audience asked about what makes success or failure in art. I just remember the deep intensity of his response. People who did not “make it” or “continue in the field” “did not need it enough.” Michiko Itatani; many of her words occupy the mind space in my studio. Perhaps the most simple and poignant for me to hear as a young painter was “The only thing you need to be an artist is a room and a hot plate.” 40 years later, this, more than anything informs the truth of my practice. Enrique Martinez Celaya who I often mention. Among his most important teachings was managing expectations. This covers a lot of territory of course. In my mind, the most important is the “trappings” that we think are necessary to make work and the reality of what is crucial in the making of work — I would offer there is a vast difference there. This is supported, by another important influence, Nancy Spero, who when speaking about her early work, in particular, the War Series, talked about making the work in her kitchen after her boys were asleep because the work was visually disturbing for them.
There are so many people in the field; artists, curators, critics, historians, gallerists, etc. who think they know the way art should be made and presented – the white cube, etc. Ultimately, none of that matters. This is similar to the belief that a “good” meditator can meditate under any condition. I believe this applies to making work –cut through the romantic notions. The single-pointed vision. Working on the kitchen table, in a barn, in a coffee shop, outside, in the bathroom, in a big studio, etc. it all works. Just as long as we don’t believe we are artists or that we are making art. We’ll be fine.