Refuge

Bird of Heaven, pastel on paper, 1990

I sometimes wonder that those who choose a creative life in the arts do so because it allows them to escape into their heads. While it is certainly a noble venture to embark on an art career, there is nothing noble about the constant struggle to make a living that often accompanies art making.

The fact that artists continue working against all odds speaks volumes about their integrity and resolve. Or does it? Perhaps the solitary, interior process of creation is partly a retreat from an ugly, demanding world.

I’ve often had the experience of slogging through a difficult day of dealing with people and the unpleasant task of making ends meet. At some stressful moment, stuck in traffic, I found myself thinking; If I can only make it to the art studio, I will be safe.

 

While it is true that making art requires a stepping away from the world, if only to gain better perspective, there comes a time when artists must re-engage with the hurly-burly of daily life. Hard as it is, that is where they must go to find raw material to fuel their creative visions.

Too much time spent in one’s head leads to madness.

Michele Tuegel Contemporary Opening

American Style Magazine recently voted St. Petersburg the top mid-sized city for art for the third impressive year in a row. Move over Miami, St. Pete has arrived. And with the imminent opening of MicheleTuegel Contemporary on Central Avenue, the city can add another gold star to its art crown.

The new downtown gallery of fine craft and design is the dream and hard work of long-time arts advocate, administrator and artist, Michele Tuegel. There are not many people who, over the years, have been bigger advocates for art than Michele.

In 1984, while working at the old Gulf Coast Art Center in Belleair, she staged the first Florida Craftsmen statewide exhibition. Two years later Michele opened the inaugural Florida Craftsmen Gallery on Third Street downtown. And two years later, in 1986, she began her long run as that organization’s first Executive Director.

Florida Craftsmen gained national exposure during Michele’s directorship and now has a major home and gallery on Central Avenue. Michele was not content to stay idle after leaving Florida Craftsmen, and worked for several years as an integral part of the Pinellas County Arts Council.

Running her own gallery seemed like the next logical step for such a tireless arts cheerleader. Many in the community would say; “What took you so long?” Michele’s answer could be that she was saving up for a flashy red convertible and trip to Japan. Now those bucket list items will have to wait.

There will be two openings at the Gallery, Friday, October 12, 3 pm-8 pm and Saturday, October 13, 6 pm-9 pm. Michele Tuegel Contemporary is at 320 Central Avenue in downtown St. Petersburg. (727) 823-1100.

(photos courtesy Cathy Lasky, cathyart@earthlink.net)

 

News From Studio A

One of the most frequently asked questions of artists is the one that goes, “How long did it take you to make that?” It is a legitimate question for someone who has never made a painting, or composed a song, or created a sculpture. That person’s frame of reference tends to be elsewhere. They know how long it takes, for instance, to bake brownies or build a deck, so making art must likewise be given a definite number of hours or days.

The correct answer ought to be, “It takes long enough,” for in reality, artists must deal with the kinds of restraints that cannot be measured in time. We say we don’t have time right now; the yard needs mowing, clothes need washing or bills need to be paid. The real culprit is not a lack of time, but a lack of confidence.

There are no how-to-books or instructions that I know of for creating an original vision. The artist must learn again and again to plumb the depths of their experience for that single spark. Confidence is essential and some days we simply don’t have enough. Those are the days we tell ourselves we don’t have enough time. We need to grocery shop. We need to take the cat to the vet.

How long did it take me to make that art? It took a lifetime.

Coming Into Focus

 

A few years ago I came into possession of a roll of triple oil primed linen, 78” wide by 118” long. For most of that time the giant canvas has leaned in my studio corner while I waited for some sort of inspiration to come whack me on the head.

The prospect of a gallery exhibition next year made me consider the linen roll with renewed interest. Why not do a painting on the entire 6’6” x 9’10” piece. Of course, this preposterous idea brought my nattering naysayers out of hiding. “You can never make a painting that huge.” “Where will you set it up?” Where will you store it even if you finish it, which you won’t?”

With much effort, I sent the mental critics packing and plunged ahead. After constructing a special easel in Studio A (the front porch), I unfurled the long linen roll. To my chagrin, it turned out to be quite a bit longer than the easel.

As a result, I am forced to work on one section at a time. Presently, I’m working on the lower half with only the vaguest idea of what will go on top. This kind of not knowing turns out to be tremendously liberating. By focusing on one small area at a time, I am free to paint whatever strikes me in the moment.

This morning I will paint this much. After lunch I will paint another area. The painting proceeds, in this way, from one moment to the next. From past experience I know that the whole composition can be pulled together, and will eventually hang in the gallery as a unified piece.

That will be seven and a half months from now.

Paul Klein Talks About Art Galleries

Blog or Tweet or Pin or Friend, Oh My

Last night my local art guild had our monthly meeting, which on this occasion featured a lively discussion on social media and the artist. The opening question was not whether artists should utilize social media, but, since everyone already does it, which ones are most beneficial to artists.

We discussed web sites and Facebook, of course, but also blogs, YouTube and the new social darling Pinterest, which is like a personal web bulletin board. The consensus seemed to be that some good can come from all of these sites, but the trick is learning to balance one's time in the studio with time on the computer.

At the end, one of the presenters gave a brief summary about selling art and the various social media sites. She kept referring to art as our product and it occurred to me that we artists almost never use that term. Art to us is our creation, our passion, or work, but never our product.

Perhaps that one little semantic twist has become a stumbling block on the road to selling art. We get so wrapped up in the creative process that we're often unable to consider art as separate from ourselves. Art becomes who we are and not what we do. As a result, the business of selling 'art who we are' is regarded as demeaning and to be avoided at all costs.

It doesn't have to be that way. Art is both a product of our imagination and a potential product in the marketplace. And the two ideas need not be mutually antagonistic. If we understand that once art is created it becomes separate from us, then we can more easily accept it as a product of what we do.

 

We Are Not Alone

Aliens, those sometime friendly, but more often sinister visitors from outer space, figure large in human history. Many ancient religions as well as some modern ones believe their ancestors came from the stars. Part of the intrigue undoubtedly comes from our fascination of the other, that being completely outside our knowledge at the edge of our imagination. Onto these creatures, we can heap our own fears and uncertainties about life and the unknown.

My own interest with things alien has always been closer to home, not outer space, but inner space. The inner space I speak of lies in that nearby but mysterious space between our ears, the region called the noggin.

"Why do I choose one course of action over another?" "Why do I do such crazy things?" Sometimes it seems like an unseen alien in my noggin is calling the shots, making me think and act in ways that are counter productive. In psychology, these unconscious aliens are simply thought of as disassociated aspects of our own psyche. Plato's aphorism, "Know thyself," encourages each of us to bring those lost parts of ourselves home to the whole.

My art has always been about shining light on the unseen gremlins of the psyche and perhaps, in that sense, a belief in aliens is our attempt to come to grips with our own otherness. In the end, they are nothing but a construct of human consciousness.

Opening Friday night at Dunedin Fine Art Center is an exhibition called "Intergalactic." This diverse and exciting show about aliens will feature two of my most recent works.

 

A Cowboy's Journey

Around 1988, Koenig Art Emporium, the only genuine art store in town went out of business and had a big closing sale. By the time I got there, the place had been pretty much picked clean. On the way out I glimpsed an old set of flat files in the corner and wandered over to take a look.

The drawers still held various colored art papers but nothing of much interest. Then opening the bottom drawer, I saw the BFK Rives imprint on a stack of heavyweight paper and knew I had struck pay dirt.

Rives is top of the line paper for fine art drawing and printing and occasionally I treated myself by purchasing one or two sheets. Yet here was a whole stack of cold-press 240 lb. paper marked 70% off. Opportunities like that don’t come around often, so I bought the entire lot.

After that my slacker nature kicked back in and the paper sat unused in my studio for over a year. Finally, desperate for some spark to ignite my withered creativity, I remembered the Rives. What would happen if I attempted Oriental brush drawings on the soft textured paper?

Thus began a project that proceeded by stops and starts for yet another year. Standing before my studio work table, I imagined a Japanese calligraphy master about to begin work. With quickness, dexterity and confidence, he suddenly brings forth a stunning visual haiku.

My feeble attempts, however, turned out to be more like muddled blobs. For every half-way decent drawing, there were at least ten second-rate rejects. I was a novice better qualified to sweep out the master’s studio.

I set the project aside for months before daring to again pick up the brushes. But this time there were more drawings that made the final cut. Over time, my files became filled with sumi ink drawings; some good but most uninspired student work.

In 1997, in another creative funk, I pulled out a bunch of sumi rejects and started adding color to them. Using the same method of confident starts and frustrated stops, I eventually accumulated a stack of finished oil, acrylic and ink paintings.

It was from this last group of works that the above painting “A Close Shave” emerged. In 1998, the piece was acquired by the Gulf Coast Museum of Art for their permanent collection.

After the demise of GCMA, their extensive collection was purchased by St. Petersburg College and is again being exhibited in several of its campus locations. And now, Leepa-Rattner Museum of Art at St. Petersburg College is holding an exhibition of part of that collection.

“A Close Shave” has again emerged and hangs in the Museum alongside many other excellent pieces from the collection. The exhibition will be up through August and is well worth the trip to St. Petersburg College in Tarpon Springs. For more information call 727 712-5762 or click here.