Artist's Statements

Artist's Statements.

Yes, I have one. Yes, I followed the highly suggested rules and no, I didn't want to.

But it is there. For all to say 'Huh?', maybe chuckle at or ignore.

Here, so I can get this out of the way, is my Artist Statement...

My artistic quest for exposure and acceptance is fueled by desire, emotion and effort. In this quest, I have come to rely on two forms of inspiration. The first being thought forms, or mental images. The thoughts and images produced by the subconscious world of daydreams, reveries or perhaps intentionally entering a theta brainwave state. The second form is daily visual experiences. These outward experiences can range from a color scheme jumping out at me, seeing a reflection in glass, to noticing an interesting arrangement of items.

With most of my art being experimental, I have found that my ideas and artistic concepts progress naturally by not letting myself get caught up in the conventions of failure and success. I believe the purpose of art is to capture ones attention. In pursuing this as a goal, I believe that my purpose in creating art is to release my intention, allowing things I didn't know were possible to come to existence.

...fabricated, pretentious and preposterous. OK, maybe it is not that bad. But I would like to point out a couple of things.

1) The required sources of inspiration: Like anyone else, I'm rarely inspired by anything. Someone's art does inspire me occasionally, and I will say to myself 'I wish that I had done that', but I don't start making art like it, that would be copying. If I had to rely on inspiration, I would never create any art. I read a great Chuck Close quote recently - 'Inspiration is for amateurs. I just get to work.'. I have a recurring dream, where I am looking for some really creative art that I made, no doubt, the most creative art in the universe. Despite looking through all of my cabinets, closets and piles of stuff, I never find it in the dream, but I know that if I do, I will be really creative forever and be able to make the art that I want to. I'll just work in the meantime. There are quite a few formulas representing the creative process, my formula is... Desire + Effort + Trust = Success.

2) The required response to the question - Why I make art: To entertain myself, but no one wants to hear that. People want to think that for some wonderful reason that they have to hear, that I am making art for them and the rest of the world. Not so. Once I am satisfied with a piece of new art, I usually do choose to present it to the world, and if it ends up on a gallery wall, or is accepted into a juried exhibition, or someone decides that they want to own it, then I feel good. And, as a result of my efforts, I am fortunate to feel good a lot.

Now for some fun. Years ago, a friend emailed me a link to a random bluegrass band name generator web site. Click and names such as 'The Kentucky Outhouse Boys' and '5 String Bloodhound' would be generated. How about a random artist statement generator? Used to death cliches like 'Through a contrived process', 'Created naturally through inspiration' and 'Captured spontaneously' could be combined with phrases such as 'Multi-dimensional phenomenon' and ' Essence of the unconscious being'. Classic artist statements such as follows could be produced just by clicking...

Art for me produces feelings of intense desires to create art of desirable artistic intensities. Not only do I feel intense when desiring to feel desirable artistically, I intensely desire to feel artistic at times I am not desirable.

Moving forward without the past in mind, I strive to keep past artistic movements as future considerations for inspirational art. That is to say, future artistic movements may be based on past considerations for artistic inspiration without consideration for the future. Considering past inspirational artistic movements based on the future is what truly inspires my art.

Quotes From Unknown Artists

The following quotes come from unknown artists. See if you can match the quote with the unknown artist.

1) If you are going to use orange, then use lots of it.

2) I have never drawn anything, but I have seen everything.

3) Stop. Then stop again.

4) Don't let anyone try to tell you that you can't try to tell someone how to tell someone how to make art.

5) Picasso.

6) Seeing doesn't help matters and neither does thinking about it.

A) Rob Boss

B) Rob Ross

C) Polly Jackson

D) Tony Pouch

E) Bob Boss

F) Witaker Ross

The $79.95 F. Johnson Experiment

A couple of years ago, I created a painting, among other experimental works at the time, that I decided to put into an invitational art exhibition (the first 50 pieces to show up were accepted). The venue is a predominate Denver art school located in a old school building built in 1893 (and whose attic is a seasonal home to about 3,000 bats, really).

As an experimental artist, I decided to do an art sales experiment. Seeing how I have had several of my prints for sale in a variety of exhibitions at the school over the years, including a solo exhibition, I had yet to generate any sales (except for donated work at their art auctions). My experiment was to display a painting for a really, really low, yet reasonable price, and have the artist name on the painting be something other than my name. I signed the painting F. Johnson, and the information card next to the piece confirmed, that the painting was an F. Johnson original. Would it sell, is this what it would take to make a sale?

The painting, an acrylic on canvas, which I'll call 'Summer Rain', a lively, colorful piece, was on display for the exhibition. Here's some detail of the image…

I received a call from the schools business manager. A woman wanted to buy 'Summer Rain', but wanted to make sure that the price listed was correct. 'Yes', I replied, '$79.95 is the correct price'. A few seconds of silence on the phone, then he replied 'OK, I'll tell her that the price is correct'. I decided on the spot, not to divulge my experimental approach. I stopped by the school a week or so later, and the painting was absent (usually sold pieces remain on display for the duration of the show, with a red dot on the information card indicating 'sold'). A sale was made!

The experiment was a success. Or, was it? Was the buyer a bargain hunter? Would she have paid more, and if so, how much more? Was I short-changing myself (and the schools commission)? Did this scheme backfire on me? Either way, it was a sale, and someone has a painting on their wall.

Future experiments await.

I Know New Ideas Will Come

A new thing is coming. But, without being prepared, I wont be ready for it.

How do I prepare? Effort. Work. Perseverance. Being diligent. Trying something new. Approaching something old in a new way. Approaching something new in a old way. Playing with new media. If I've seen it or done it before, I don't do it. Knowing when to start and knowing when to stop. Not being afraid to ruin something that has a good start. Attempting to make something out of something that starts out disastrous. Purposely breaking the rules. Mistakes are progress.

I know there is a next idea or concept waiting. Where exactly is that idea or concept now? It's there now, and has been, and is about to be here now, I just haven't gotten to it yet.

What is a Print?

A year or so ago, I received an email that was addressed to a group of printmakers, that asked the question 'What is a Print?'. A list of 36 answers was complied from the responses and sent out. Quite a variety of answers from a variety of people. Not to subject anyone to all 36 responses, below are some of the responses listed by number. My response is number 34.

4. Any mark made by pressure.

13. When I was a young boy, maybe eight or nine, I got into a fight with my brother. He was winning (whatever that means), and so I threw out a barrage of cuss words at him, real cuss words. My mother was standing at the door and overheard me, every word. She stormed out the door, grabbed me by the neck, turned me around, and smacked me on the face, leaving a bright red impression of her hand across my face. It may have been that defining moment that got me into printmaking. It was my first exposure to printmaking; it was a print.

17. Looking at a print from a 21st century point of view, from a philosophical point of view, from the aspect of Life, the print for me is not simply bound to ink, paper, press and so on. It depends what one wants of it.

As I was preparing homemade sauerkraut for the winter, in a large plastic 100 liter container(I live in Slovenia), I thought of a print, of editioning the print in the same way the cabbage is prepared to be soaked in the water, the salt is added, and so on, it references cooking that many printmakers reference when talking about prints or printmaking. However from a life perspective every day is like a monoprint, it is simply a question of what to choose to record and what not to and what technique to use and which one not to. Dieter Roth chose to record all of it in his video installation that depicts his every movement in the house. So to me the (ultimate) print in this case is a monoprint of a human generation. It has a matrix, it leaves an imprint on the environment, it is somewhat editioned over the years, and than the outcome or the prints in various shapes and forms are collected, displayed and accumulated in private residencies, museums, galleries, homes, streets and so on. Some go through editioning/survival and some are simply rejected by the test of time.

19. A print is the spoor of the mind as it travels, repeatable, readable, and often resonant.

22. I feel a print is a piece of yourself.

24. A print is a good friend.

34. Something from somewhere, transferred to something somewhere else, causing something new to come into existence.

IT

IT. Lots of people do IT, perhaps too many. I don't do IT. I tried doing IT, but thankfully, I wasn't very good at doing IT. You've seen IT, because IT has been done to death.

What is IT? According to Miles Batt, in his wonderful book 'The Complete Guide to Creative Watercolor' (which, I believe might be the only necessary art 'guide' book no matter what your media may be), he says 'Beware of books that show you "How To Do IT." If you are eventually able to do IT, what is IT worth? If you can do IT, and the author can do IT, lots of other people can do IT. Each person doing IT drains IT of creative potential. IT is the last thing you should attempt to learn how to do'.

One of the first books on watercolor I bought has 'You Can Do It' as part of the title. The book is full of all too familiar watercolor paintings, the barn, the battered row boat, the silo, the stream, pine trees and all the other things you have seen done countless times, pretty much the same way. IT, IT, IT and IT. IT can be a very good starting point for some people, I tried IT, but found IT boring.

Other artist's books proclaim a way to make art their way, so you can too. Their methods, their techniques, their way and their approach can all be your's too. Mimic someone else's technique, style and subject matter? Not me. I like to think that my art is for those who have outgrown IT.

Brief Encounter

Caught in the moment.

Right after and just before,

Now, from time to time.

Acceptance and Rejection

Today, I received notifications for 2 juried print exhibitions, these are the first notifications for 2010.

First, the rejection. The last 2 years, I had a piece accepted into Ink & Clay, a print and ceramic exhibition at the Kellogg Gallery, California State Poly University in Pomona, California. This year, for Ink & Clay 36, my pieces were rejected. Prior to 2008, all of my pieces were rejected every year I submitted work. Am I bummed? No, I submitted 3 new monotypes that I would call a little edgy. There is always next year.

Now, the acceptance. The Mid-America Print Council has an annual juried members show. This year, 94 pieces from 32 artists were entered. The exhibition will showcase 27 pieces from 25 artists. Pretty good odds, however, last year my pieces were rejected and in 2007 as well. Good news is always welcome.

Sometimes, there are surprises. A piece doesn't get accepted, and I am baffled as to how the juror could not accept it. Then there are the times a piece of mine gets accepted over another one of mine and I feel baffled as well.

I have been keeping a accepted/rejected spreadsheet since 2003. As of today, I have been accepted 55 times out of 130 entries, that tallies to 75 rejections. Despite what would be consider a losing record , I feel successful.

Art Festivals

Great art in the great outdoors. An art festival. Sounds perfect, and well, it can be, sometimes.

Rain and hail. High winds and funnel clouds. Heat. Dry heat. Hot heat. The largest known forest fire in Colorado blocking the sun and dropping ash in Denver, 60 miles away. And, sometimes, perfect weather. I have experienced all of the above as a participant in outdoor art festivals.

Getting your art to an art festival and returning home with undamaged art is a challenge, at least for the type of pieces I display. I ran over one of my pieces once, forgetting where I placed it while attempting to secure a good parking spot as someone pulled out.

Once, doing a booth with a group of fellow printmakers at the Art Students League of Denver's Summer Art Market, I watched a friends booth while she took a break. A woman came in and told me she only had forty dollars and was undecided wether to pay the membership fee and join the League or buy a piece she really liked. I told her, that if she joined the League, she could make her own art and she agreed. But she said 'I really like this piece I saw called Little Green Men'. Little Green Men was my piece she had just seen and I talked her out of buying it. Sales are not my forte.

Booth location at an art festival can be critical. At a downtown Denver festival one year I was next to a bus stop. Loud bus noise and obnoxious bus fumes for 3 days. At another small unadvertised local neighborhood 'festival', I was next to the Face Painter and across from the Dunk Tank. The $25 booth fee should have been a dead giveaway that this was not going to be a money-maker, and I realized our booth fees were paying the local bands that played (actually Hemi Cuda was hot).

As an experimental printmaker, I have spent countless hours explaining to countless people what it is they are looking and how I created what they are looking at on the walls inside my art booth. I finally came up with 20 second, 2 minute and 20 minute versions of my explanations. The 20 second version has become very popular and I am working on a 2 second version.

People that come to art festivals can be quite entertaining, all they have to do is show up...

One person asked me what kinds of drugs I used. I am not a druggie, but replied 'Anything I can get my hands on, you got anything good?'.

A woman told her friends that she had to get out of my booth immediately because my art made her dizzy, while others have gazed at a piece for minutes.

Another woman asked her husband if he wanted to go into my booth, 'Hell no' was his reply.

I was told by a woman that if she won the Power Ball that night, that she would return the next day and buy something.

Once my booth was right in front of a popular Denver theater. People waiting to see The Go-Go's play that night congregated near my booth. The security folks were making people pour out their water bottles prior to entering the theater. A woman walked up to my booth and threw the water from her bottle all over the inside of my booth. I yelled at her and she yelled back at me calling me some rather rude things. Some friends of hers explained to her that she was in the wrong. She came to her senses and apologized to me.

I had disappointing news for a woman who inquired if I had anything for five dollars. The next year, in addition to my standard art on display, I brought postcard-sized prints advertised as 'Farmer Johnson's Old Fashioned Hand-pulled Prints - Only $5'. Considering that the prints were cut to size from prints that had flaws of sorts, I sold quite a few and even had a special of 3 for $10.

...people do tell it like it is, and as as result I have received countless compliments on my work. Now, If I can just do something about the weather.

January 1, 2000, Effort and Commitment

November 19th of 1999, I gave 2 weeks notice, resigning from a good-paying software job because I hated going to work each day. My wife would sometimes ask me when I got home from work 'Well, did you quit today?'. On November 19th, I stood there in front of my wife expecting the usual question and finally said 'Aren't you going to ask me?'. 'Ask you what' she said. 'Aren't you going to ask me if I quit my job today?' I said. She asked, I answered 'Yes'. Two weeks and I would be free.

I told my parents that I quit my job and was going to be an artist. 'Who's going to pay you?' my father asked, as if I was going to work for some company that hired artists. My wife was happy for me, but I knew I was going to be on my own through this change of career.

I found out about a Denver law firm that was looking for art to borrow to decorate the halls and offices and called to set up an appointment. The day they told me to come just happened to be my last scheduled day of work, and I could go to the law firm after I went in briefly to work and say a couple of goodbyes. The law firm agreed to borrow several acrylic paintings and call me if there was interest by potential buyers. I told the woman at the law firm I dealt with that I had quit my job and had no idea what the new millennium held in store for me, but I was excited. I was now officially in the art business.

I needed a plan if I were to have any success at pulling this off. Having stopped making art so many times over the years, I knew commitment was key, so I told myself that I would do art of some form every day starting January 1, 2000 for the entire year, as long as the menacing Y2K predictions didn't get in my way.

I took a 24" x 48" canvas and using a pencil and strait edge, created a grid of 366 sections, of which, using acrylic paints I would mask off and paint one 4 inch by 2 millimeter section every day. Also, I took a 30 page bound book watercolor paper and would create a dozen or so sections using a freehand design on each page as needed and paint one section every day. On the rare days when I would be out of town, I would paint ahead, or get caught up when getting home. I also bought 12 18" x 24" canvases, of which I would start an acrylic painting on the last day of the month and finish it the next day, the first day of the month. On December 31, 1999, I started my efforts and commitment. Prior to washing my acrylic brushes in the wash basin in our laundry room, I would wipe the excess paint on the cinder block wall behind wash basin, and as a bonus, created a year-long mural. I also signed up for a monotype class at Art Students League of Denver, little did I know that I had found a calling.

The first night of the monotype class, I expected answers to pressing questions I had about how to print the art I sometimes struggled with while painting. What came from the instructor were suggestions. I was blown away at the instant art we made that evening using plexiglass, oil-based etching inks, etching paper and an etching press. I was hooked, from the first night. I continued making monotypes, and got into zinc plate etching, Solarplate etching, screen printing, linoleum block printing as well as lithography. I even substitute taught a Solarplate class one evening.

Six years later, I had spent countless hours in the Art Students League of Denver's printmaking studio, not only buying studio time and taking every available class, but becoming the studio manager. Myself and another dedicated student approached the director and a person with money to donate with a studio improvement proposal. The proposal was accepted. Soon, we had new tables, lockers a permanent paper-soaking sink and many small but nice improvements. I worked for free and donated money for improvements as well. But what I gave most to the studio was love.

I realized that I had a dream. The dream of having my own printmaking studio.

In 2006, I was able to buy my own press (which I named Zeke), find a studio space (which I named The Atomic Malt Shop) and make my dream come true. I soon found that I missed a few of the people I worked in the studio with, but could print any time, any day for as long as I wanted. I am blessed to still have my studio and have never taken it for granted.

While I maintain a non-art job (to keep the bills paid), the commitment and effort of January 2000 paid off big time.

My approach for 2010 is not structured like I approached 2000. But, I have made a commitment to getting better at drawing, opening myself to being more involved in marketing my art, and to continue to get better at what I love. The next ten years are going to be amazing.