inverse-political art

This is something I wrote in response to today's Robert Genn Twice Weekly Art Letter. He was talking about geopolitical art and its importance in the art world today. As usual, I had an opinion on the topic.


I have never agreed that artists should be overtly political, in their artistic expression or in the rest of their lives. I think it's like everything else; statements are made with differing degrees of intensity. Some artists are consumed by their need to express social and political views, while others have nothing at all to say about such matters, with a world of varying expression in between.

And then there are those who create art to counter the social and political ugliness around them.

I'm one of those inverse-political artists. While my art would never be called political, it is a frank reaction to the state of the world. In order to bear it all, I have to focus on what is right and good with this world. I notice the fantastic beauty I find around me every day, in even the humblest of objects, and I seek to translate that beauty into art. My goal is to enable the viewer to transcend the madness and desperation around us. Nothing is all bad, after all.

I think Picasso was right when he said, "If everyone would paint, political re-education would be unnecessary." If everyone were to focus on the beauty and wonder of our universe in order to paint it, a lot of the ugliness would fall away. There just wouldn't be time for it all.

Finding Art

The potential for art is everywhere. It's limitless. Everywhere the light falls, there is also shadow and color, shape and texture and volume. All day long I catch glimpses of things I want to paint, moments I want to preserve. The smell of the pear and the shine of the knife as I slice it become a single sensation. If I evoke the shine of the knife, will the viewer smell the pear?

And how do I choose which glimpse to record this time? Have I painted the play of light and color on glass enough times already? Perhaps I should be regarding faces, or city streets. Or should I try to get sensations onto the canvas without any images at all to make them speak?

Sometimes there is so much richness that it's hard to paint at all.

about pastels (from www.KimDenise.com)

are dry sticks of pure, compressed pigment mixed with varying amounts of binder. They are anything but "pastel". Indeed, pastels can create some of the purest, most brilliant color effects available. Because the pigment is laid down pure and dry, not dissolved in a wet medium, every facet of every particle is available to reflect and refract the light. A soft pastel painting can have an unrivaled depth of jewel-like color. Its shimmer and glow can arrest a viewer from across the room. A sensual pursuit for artist and observer alike, experiencing soft pastel is a lot like falling in love.

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on getting started....

As someone new to art, I feel it takes a special brand of outrageousness to approach the easel and presume to create. I get that butterflies-in-my-stomach sensation when I even start planning a painting; it has been known to keep me up at night. Some may say it's a lack of confidence, a fear of failure, or just a drive for perfection that loads those first moments with such paralyzing anticipation.....but I call it love. Remember falling in love? That swooning excitement that runs through the veins, making one feel almost ill? That sweet elixir that has us walking on air...but unable to so much as speak to the beloved? Oh yes, it's love. As artists, we are privileged to fall in love over and over again. Each new piece bears the potential for that glorious intoxication--and for the paralysis of its glittering expectation.

This post was published in the "clickbacks" to Robert Genn's Art Newsletter. Click here to see my illustrated letter.

[Note: I'm in the process of starting several new pieces. I'm not sleeping well. I hope to share them with you soon!]

TO SEE ALL MY ART, VISIT MY WEBSITE