Death of Rauschenberg

I've been so busy with family life that I just know read about Rauschenberg's recent death. So much of my work is clearly influenced by him. I LOVED that show at the Met "Robert Rauschenberg Combines." It spoke to so many of my own sensibilities as an artist, to see incredibly beauty in mundane objects (crows, bedsheets, chicken coops, boots...). And of course he was a great printmaker, taking full advantage of the medium of lithography. Broken stone? Print that!






There were no obstacles to his work, nothing weighted, no waiting. It was all just there. I struggle so much to just get halfway there, but I think for him there was not so much thinking and thinking and thinking. My father always says if you think long, you think wrong. I find myself thinking myself out of doing, thinking a big burden on my work, stripping my work down too far. Then I have to go back to my work without over thinking the process and just creating by instinct.


It's like when I'm driving sometimes and I know where I am going and I know how to get there but if there is a road block, traffic, slow school bus, whatever, sometimes I'll take a "detour." When really I should just stay on the way I was going in the first place. But is that sticking with the familiar? I must say that sometimes when I do veer off path, sure I get lost, sure it takes me longer than if I had just stayed behind the slow school bus... but maybe I'll make a new discovery along the way. Drive by an interesting store, a tasty restaurant worth checking out or a cool dog park that I didn't know was there.


So maybe the detours are worth it in driving but how much are they worth it in my work? How can I make the experience of a detour actually valuable to my work?


Someone once said that they hate the fact that when they work on something they start to think "Oh that reminds me of Picasso...Degas...Rembrandt... Kahlo..." and that it pisses her off. She wants her work to be HER work, not reminiscent of some other been-there artist. But once she has that artist on her mind she can't beat it out and then every mark she makes is a Fridah mark or a Jasper mark or whoever. But not her own mark. So she writes the haunting name on a paper, takes it to the outside door of her studio and slams the door. Get out!


The death of a prominent artist takes me on this type of mental detour. I see so much of Rauschenberg in my work but I am not haunted by him. I also see Fridah's portraiture, Michelangelo's Sybills and Keinholz's tableaus. We can't help but be influenced, or rather, inspired. Parents influence children. History influences the present. The trick is not to repeat history. My work is clearly not Rauschenberg, but I am happy whenever someone sees my work and puts me in his company.

Gratuitious Mommy Moment...

So exciting! Jackson is learning to walk! Soon enough he can be my studio assistant.

Studio Purge

My work has gone through several cycles from graduate school, to my waffling years after graduate school to more recent years when it has started to find a focus. I feel the lense turning again now, and sharpening my view further. Mediums that I once only experimented with (meaning, I created a few wonderful pieces but didn't quite find a groove with it) are now being rekindled in my mind.

I've been teaching a class on artist books at Framingham State College. I've made books in the past and have been more interested in studying books and book culture. But teaching this class has sparked my creativity! This fall I am teaching a class at Tufts Experimental College on the transformation of visual culture from the perspective of the book. Should be fun.

But what does all this mean for the my archive of work? The good, the bad, the ugly... Does anyone throw out art work that they feel was just not right? No, that's not for me. I think I am more interested in reclaiming art work; reconfiguring it into new work.

And with open studios coming up, is is valid to have a "bargin bin" to readily releive myself of older work? Has the monetary value lowered OR has my emotional value of the work lessened? And what does that say about the work in the first place, if I no longer have an emotional connection to it? How can I lose an emotional connection to something I created?... Maybe I was never inspired in the first place...

Studio Clean Up

Most of my great ideas and energy come at the last minute. This is why I started rearranging my studio just THREE DAYS before Somerville Open Studios. Yep. But somehow I managed to make a big mess that I now have to clean up before I can finish setting up my space for the public. Typical.






The guest room at home looks worst. And my mother arrives in one week. ha.