I’m back to painting after a hiatus of about five weeks, one of the longest periods I’ve went without lifting a brush in the past fifteen years.  I really felt it was necessary at this point to just step back and take a pause.  Take a deep breath and let things build back up inside.

The last few days I’ve been working on a new piece that is a continuation of the Red Roof series.  It felt pretty odd, at first, to step before the easel again after such a long period.  In fact, I kept delaying it for the days before I finally started.  There was a slight fear that it would be a struggle to find anything there and it was easy to let myself be distracted by any and everything.

But I was finally there.  I had a knot in my gut and was really unsure but, as I do with the Red Roof pieces, I started with a block of color in the bottom left corner and suddenly the anxiety began to lift.  This first block started a chain of actions that began to spread, even before I painted them, across the canvas.  All the distractions receded to a point far in the distance and I was completely in the moment there in front of the easel.

Man, it felt good.  Felt right.

There are still distractions that pull time away from this feeling.  It still is going to take several days to be in full rhythm which is, as I’ve described before, a very important aspect in my process.  The rhythm I’m talking of involves total immersion in the surface, free of all distraction.  Every action is effortless and immediate.  There’s a freeing of something in the mind that allows color and form to flow easily out.

That’s still some time away but that first hour or so with the brush in hand let me know it was there to be attained.

It felt good.

This is Herb and Dorothy Vogel.  Herb’s retired from his job at the post office and Dorothy from a job as a librarian.  They live in a small apartment in NYC.  The only connection I have with them is that Dorothy is from my hometown of Elmira.  That and the fascination I have for the passion that they possess for collecting art.

You see, the Vogels have compiled one of the greatest collections of modern art in the world over the past forty eight years or so.

I’ve written before that art does not have to be the sole province of the wealthy, that art is accessible to most every income level if the person really feels the desire to collect.  The Vogels are positive proof of that.

They married in the early 60’s and immediately began their obsession, living on Dorothy’s income as a librarian and using Herb’s paycheck to buy art. They sought out new and what they felt were important artists, meeting them and learning about them as they acquired early, important works from the artists before they were discovered by the greater art world.  Many artists became friends and gave them numerous pieces until their small apartment was bulging.  Artworks under the bed, artworks on the ceiling, artworks in every nook and cranny– art consumed their home.

By this time, their collection was recognized throughout the art world as one of the largest and most comprehensive collections held by a private collector.  In the 90’s, the National Gallery of Art took stewardship of their collection, allowing the Vogel’s collection to live on long after they are gone.  It also allowed the Vogel’s the room, as the collection was taken by the National Gallery, to continue collecting with the same passion for the modern art they so loved.  It’s said that their collection is probably worth in the hundreds of millions of dollars today but that was never the reason behind their manic collecting.  It was about their love of, and connection to, the art.  It proves that wealth or income is not the primary factor in collecting.

Only a passion and desire.

The story of Herb and Dorothy Vogel is a great story and was the subject of an award-winning documentary this past year called, of course, Herb and Dorothy.  There is also a ton of written articles and broadcast stories out there about the Vogels, so please look them up.  You may not like a lot of the work they collect but their passion is worth watching.

Here’s a trailer for the documentary:

Yesterday was the annual appearance of the Mummer’s Parade from Philadelphia, which has been going on for a couple of hundred years there although the first “official” parade was held in 1901.  It’s usually held on or around New Year’s Day and fills Broad Street in Philly with incredibly costumed bands playing out pretty ornate choreographed pieces.  The amazing thing is how much effort is put in by the social clubs of that city throughout the year, practicing and making the stunning costumes, for the five minutes or so they get in the spotlight.

The idea of the Mummer’s Parade is derived from the Mummer’s Plays of medieval Europe where groups of costumed performers went door to door, acting out their simple plays which had many regional variations but normally involved a Hero being killed by some sort of evil opponent then being revived by a Doctor of sorts, usually on the day after Christmas.  It has survived in many parts of the world and is still often practiced during the holiday season with revelers going from home to home, singing and accepting drinks and such from their hosts.

They show part of the parade annually on WGN , the nationally broadcast superstation out of Chicago, and we always watch at least part of it.  It’s a great scene and you have to admire the dedication these groups have for the tradition of this parade.  Cheri has often said that it would be a great setting for a movie from Christopher Guest and company, of Best in Show, A Mighty Wind and Waiting For Guffman fame.  These movies usually have self-contained environments and casts of really interesting characters.  Perfect fit for this parade. Maybe Murder at the Mummers?

Here’s an example of one of the string bands, one of the different competing divisions:

I received an e-mail this morning from a person who was looking to obtain her first painting and was asking for some advice on where and how to buy.  This is an e-mail I receive quite often and I’m always particularly interested in the first-time collector.  There is something very exciting in that first acquisition, for them and for me as well.

For the would-be collector, there is that first flush of excitement in finding something original that really strikes a chord within them, that triggers some emotional response in them unlike any time before.  A response strong enough to make them willing to make a leap of faith based on their own subjective view of a piece of art and spend more money than they normally would on something for just themselves. With this excitement there’s also a bit of fear mixed in.  They’re doing something they’ve never done before and they afraid of making a mistake, afraid of turning this initial giddiness of discovery into an event of regret.  It’s a big, scary step into a world that seems foreign to them.

I understand that all too well.  Maybe that’s why I find first-time collectors so appealing.  I really like the idea of de-mystifying the process of art buying and letting people know they have nothing to fear in most galleries.  They see the art galleries as dens of snobs and elitists, a place where their choices will be belittled or mocked for a lack of knowledge.  In fact, there is truly no right or wrong in choosing a piece of art nor is there any secret knowledge required.  If you like something, you like it.  If you don’t, you don’t.  My response to people who say, embarrassed,  that they don’t know anything about art is to say , “Well, you know what you like and what you don’t.  What more do you need to know?”

All that’s needed is the courage to take that small leap.

For me, I am drawn to this leap they’re willing to make.  I know when they take that first piece into their home, it will mean something very special to them even if they go on to obtain more art in the future, especially if it takes a sacrifice of sorts to get that first painting.   And if it is the only piece they ever buy, it will maintain a place of honor in their home.

And that’s all an artist can ask for his work- an audience that will continue to enjoy their work for years to come.

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

—-Leonardo Da Vinci

I guess that about sums up our lesson for the day.  Enough said.

Enjoy the day….

The new year is started.

As far as resolutions, I’ve never really believed in people’s abilities to suddenly change the behaviors that have been a part of themselves for most of their lives.

For the most part, we are what we are.

However, I do believe that we can change our attitudes, our perceptions of the world and ourselves.  And that is where the life-altering changes occur.

At least that’s my belief.

When I was younger, I thought I needed to leave a scar on this world to let it know that I was here.  I saw myself as a large, sharp-edged piece of rock ready to bludgeon the world into submission.  But as time passes I see myself as a much smaller, smoother stone that simply lets the world simply flow over, creating the barest ripple on the surface.

Perception.

My resolution is to end this year 2010 with a different, more positive view of this world than the one with which I am starting.  If I can do that, I will have done more positive things for myself and others. If I have to effect the world, let it be in a positive fashion.  In the grand scheme of things, what more can I ask?

Happy New Year…

And There Is a New Day

That’s the title of this painting,  that’s showing at the Haen Gallery in Asheville, NC.  When I was thinking about what I would use for my end of the year post I thought of this piece.  I guess it’s because of the fact that I see it as being about a type of rebirth, the promise of possibility that comes with every new day.

And that is very much like the feeling that comes when we turn the page on the old year and look upon the new.

A clean slate.  New opportunity.

Fresh legs.  Clear eyes.

New car smell and zero miles on the odometer.

The road is open and runs straight to the horizon.  Put the pedal to the floor and don’t look in the rearview because nothing can catch you now.  It’s a free run, baby.

That’s the attitude I hope to wake up with tomorrow, in the first light of 2010.  Energized and full of optimism for the future.

However, I know that’s a tall order and you can never fully shake away all the dust from your past.  You’ll always carry a little forward with you.  The important thing is to keep moving forward.

And that is all I ask from the new year and each new day: to keep moving forward.

have a great  new year…………..

They showed the 2009 Kennedy Center Honors on television last night.  It’s always an interesting show, highlighting the careers of some of the most enduring and venerable performers and entertainers.  A virtual who’s who of our culture over the last half century.

For me, this years group of honorees was as good as it gets across the board.  You had high culture with operatic hero Grace Bumbry, jazz culture with the ever hip piano of Dave Brubeck, rock and roll with Bruce Springsteen, the world of comedy from Mel Brooks and the ultimate in dramatic acting from Robert De Niro.  What an incredible group.

One of the highlights for me was the absolute look of joy on Dave Brubeck’s face as his four sons joined in to play a medley of his compositions.  The night fell on his 89th birthday and he seems to be a testament to the longevity of those who are able to follow their passion.  I don’t know squat about jazz but what I feel is that Brubeck’s work has appeal across the spectrum of listeners out there.  There’s enough stellar playing and complicated rhythms to satisfy real jazz fans yet it’s incredibly accessible to the less savvy, like me.  Great stuff.

Of course, the other was the tribute to Bruce Springsteen.  I’ve been a big fan for well over 30 years and it’s been interesting to see how he has transformed into an elder statesman of  popular music.  I think that Jon Stewart hit it right on the head for me when he spoke of Bruce’s willingness to empty the tank for his audience every night as being the thing that most struck him and influenced him as a young fan.  I know seeing Bruce when I was younger made me hungry to find something, anything, that would make me feel that same passion and commitment in my own life.  Something where, like Bruce, I could give everything I had.  The medium wasn’t important.  It was all about the spirit of the effort, the total dedication to your own vision.  That is always in the back of mind when I see him, even today.

I remember writing a letter in the 70’s (long before e-mail) to Dave Marsh, the Rolling Stone editor who had just written an early bio of Bruce, describing how the music affected me.  I was working in a factory and couldn’t see anything on the horizon but when I listened to Bruce I was no longer a loser, a factory drone.  I had hope.  It was very much how Jon Stewart described his own experience.  Marsh responded with a lovely handwritten letter, that I still prize today, telling me how he was moved by my letter.  That, too, served as inspiration to search further, to give more.

Thanks, Bruce, for the inspiration.  You deserve this honor…

Here’s nice version of My City of Ruins from night’s show, performed by Eddie Vedder.  Enjoy.

My sister asked me to frame this for  my nephew, Jeremy,  for Christmas.  It’s a self-portrait done by his longtime friend and now fiancee, Eliza, when she was 9 years old, which means it was done two years ago.  Just kidding.  It was a couple of decades back.

I just love this piece.  There is just something there, like a lot of kid’s art that I’ve been fortunate to see, that has a real sense of rightness.  There is an innocence in its expression and feeling with an innate and natural sophistication that goes beyond the nine years of experience Eliza had at the time.  By that, I mean that she is expressing things with this little painting in a natural way that older, much more experienced painters struggle to find in their own work, even with all their years of acquired knowledge and technical sophistication.

I think therein lies the beauty of folk art and kid’s art’s place in it: True self expression with what you know and how you view things without trying to represent the work or yourself as more sophisticated than you really are.  When the feeling behind the work is genuine, the level of sophistication becomes secondary.  I think we’ve all seen paintings done by highly skilled artists that are skillfully rendered but raise no feeling within us, seemingly devoid of emotion.  It’s like they are so concerned with technique that they lose the emotion of what they’re trying to portray, whereas kid’s art often is so much about being able to freely express themselves that the feeling is carried through the process and actually enhanced with each unsteady stroke of paint.

I’m sure many of you out there see a steady stream of kid’s work and brush off a lot of it.  Take an extra moment and look a little deeper and you’ll see some wonderful things from these little beings.  Fresh eyes…

Well, I’m through the first two days of a 5 day stint at the West End Gallery in Corning.  Thus far it has been pretty uneventful with pretty light traffic, less than we had hoped for the days following Christmas.

I was able to meet, for the first time, several collectors who came in.  One was a lady from California who had acquired several pieces of mine over the years.  As she came through the gallery with her daughter, who she was visiting in Corning, I asked if I could be of assistance.  She said no, saying see just wanted to see some of the work of Gary Snyder, the artist who had done several paintings she had purchased there.  As she went up the stairs to the upper gallery, I ran through the artists who have shown there and couldn’t for the life of me, remember a Gary Snyder.

A while later, she came down the stairs and I asked if she saw anything of interest.  She said she loved Snyder’s work that was there.

Perplexed I asked if she had actually found some.

She said yes and explained how she ‘d followed his work since the smaller blocks of color and the first red trees.  It suddenly dawned on me that she was confusing my name.

“Do you mean Gary Myers– GC Myers?”

In that moment it dawned on her as well that she had the name confused. “Oh my, yes!” she exclaimed then told me she was thinking of a California poet named Gary Snyder.  I told her that I was the painter and she was very surprised and pleased to finally meet me.  We talked for quite a while, having a pleasant conversation, and she left with one of my books.

There were several other encounters of that sort, enough to make the days go by quickly. The piece at the top, Away From the Chaos, a 20″ by 24″ canvas has been garnering a lot of attention.  It has an interesting rhythm in the sky that has been making people stop and take notice.  One of the benefits of being in the gallery is watching how people react to different pieces from different artists, seeing how different colors and elements attract the viewer.  It’s a constant reminder of the elements that make a painting work and how important it is to keep those elements central to the piece.

So, even when it’s been slow in the gallery there are lesson to be learned.  Got to run and get ready for class…