Art Without Words or Wall Plaques

The contemporary visual art experience has gotten all caught up with the written word. It's quite unusual now to walk into a gallery and see the artwork without an accompanying blurb that attempts to convince you that the art is new, pertinent to the world around and will someday have a place in history - therefore purchasable. It's no secret that the value in art tends to rise from it's historical relevance, it's innovation in relation to the period in which it was created. Problem is that dealers and galleries are using social relevance and art jargon as written propaganda to sell paintings. Contemporary artworks are priced to parallel the pricing of artwork that has long since been part of the cannon without the guarantee that the art will ever be cannonized - despite what the exhibition blurb or wall plaque may insinuate. It would be nice if art returned to an aesthetic experience - people might even feel that they can relate to it without the intellectual rhetoric that plagues today's visual art experience. Remove the big bucks from the equation and we might actually see less writing in the galleries and more focus on the work itself. Artist Lucio Pozzi summed it up perfectly in his essay Affirmations 8/19/2008: 'I want to re-visualize visual art. I wish for words to remain parallel to- but disengaged from the visual event. Recently the visual has become dependent on the verbal. A work of visual art today seems to need explanations to exist. I have been wondering why this has come to be. The reason, I feel, is nostalgia for consensus about the purpose of art, a consensus that no longer is possible. Art was obvious in the societies of old. It was necessary. It was fulfilling tasks that were agreed upon by everyone. When Modernity, with the advent of the Renaissance, exploded the hierarchies that supported art in the past, what was assumed to be certain became uncertain.
In response to the Big Bang, art people desperately scrambled to search for referential structures that could replace the lost foundations of the past. Art history became a cacophony of concurrent contradictory proposals. Surrogate standards were proposed from left and right. Each was submitted as the single exclusive foundation for a new consensus in the arts. These surrogate standards came under the guise of verbal explanations, manifestos, captions, taking the place of that which before had been obvious. The mistake was to assume that consensus is still a necessary condition for artistic discourse. 3. THE NEW The strongest surrogate standard of recent times was the concept of progress in the arts. Like an addictive poison it is the surrogate standard that many of us still rally to, again and again. We hang on to it as if it were a last raft before we drown and instead it makes us sink deeper and deeper into a bureaucratic quagmire. Bereft of arguments to validate our preferences many of us qualify or disqualify a work of art by determining whether it is new or not.
Concern for newness blinds us to the inherent characteristics of the single artwork. Several of the formulaic tenets that hamper an open creativity in the field of art derive from the prison of the new. Concern for newness causes us to shift attention from our feelings to matters that belong in the field of packaging more than in the field of visual substance. The package becomes more important than what it contains. An artist is encouraged to think her or his art in terms of how it shall be promoted rather than of how emotions and intellect weave into its substance. Concern for novelty reduces the time frame an artist works within to that of a short-lived commentary, consumed and tossed away in a hurry. It prevents a long view capable of engaging the deeper potentialities of existence, the mystery of life and death, the surprise and panic of discovery. 4. VALUE I understood early that I wished to avoid reliance on surrogate gauges for art but I also found no reliable standards shared by the community at large. I found only infinite options. It became clear to me that after the Big Bang it is impossible to assume that we may rely on any shared criteria of validation and evaluation in the arts. Value has become as uncertain as art itself. 5. CREATIVE MISUNDERSTANDING If there is no common purpose and no judgement is possible, there is no community of intent and no communication in the arts. Then what is there? In the arts that are not applied to utilitarian purposes, instead of communication there is flexible and revisable exchange, instead of judgement there is opinion, instead of conclusion there is open dialogue. Author and viewer are linked not by agreement but by creative misunderstanding. Neither party submits to the dictates of the other.'
  Wise words from an amazing artist and thinker!!

TW Fine Art in Collaboration with Hassell

Our mission at TW Fine Art is to make art by the world's finest artists accessible through limited edition print. Australia's number 1 architecture and design firm Hassell has an invested interest in all things creative, and together we are collaborating on a project to bring cutting edge contemporary art into their showcase workspace in Spring Hill, Brisbane. Each month we will feature a contemporary artwork from our COLLECTION in their lobby. This month, we will feature an Untitled work by Christian Haub. Art In the Workplace

Bushwick - No Longer 'No Mans Land'

(Above is a map showing the location of each art studio in Bushwick that will be participating in this coming Open Studio event) We moved to Bushwick - Brooklyn in 2005. Back then, the streets were empty, bar a few factory workers and some gutsy artists that lived amongst the derelict factories. [caption id="attachment_8314" align="alignleft" width="315"]Our Doorway Our Doorway[/caption] Our studio and home was in a massive abandoned warehouse converted to 'barely there' apartments that froze in the winter and steamed in summer. Our hallways were full of clever tags and vandalism and you certainly had eyes in the back of your head when you went out alone at night. It was an awesome place! Our first meeting for Bushwick Open Studios consisted of 5 people sitting around in a room figuring out how on earth we would attract people to our studios for the open events we had planned. We'd put on shows in our cavernous spaces and our patrons would come via cab directly to the doorstep (getting totally lost in the process since cab drivers from the island NEVER went to Bushwick), hang out in the danger zone and then return by cab to Manhattan. They were exciting times! The same area has grown to become a thriving arts hub. It's cleaned up (a little) and now people certainly know where Bushwick is on a map. The open studios have carried on and grown exponentially. This year the amount of artists and patrons participating is truly mind blowing. If you have the chance, pop on the L train and go check it out! It's one of the modern art world centers and an inspiring look into the creative minds of tomorrows legends. [caption id="attachment_8312" align="alignleft" width="746"]NewYork Pictures 035 Young film makers in Bushwick circa 2006[/caption] [caption id="attachment_8317" align="alignleft" width="525"]The street at night circa 2005 The street at night circa 2005[/caption]              

The Beauty of Imperfection

The paintings of Rebecca Norton. [divider] RN-006I was looking over some paintings by Rebecca Norton yesterday in the print shop. It struck me that the geometric forms of each composition are quite loosely painted and celebrate the painterly imperfections that ensue. By 'imperfections' I don't mean that the paintings are flawed, rather that they delight in their 'hand madeness', their loose brush strokes and unsteady edges. Norton works with geometry, a math based discipline rooted in accuracy and perfection. If I think back to the major players within art history who have worked with geometric form like Malevich, Mondrian, Kelly, Martin, Stella, there is an inherent accuracy and perfection of the geometry that is also incorporated into the way the artists painted. Lines were perfectly straight or angled, painting was hard edge and controlled to create ordered, seamlessly harmonious compositions. Norton's work however removes that controlled painterly element within the geometric composition. Instead her style of painting seems more improvised, expressive and loose. Imperfect by certain standards. To be honest, it is a combination that at first took me to a place of discomfort. It is a strange juxtaposition to see the angled forms and precise geometric compositions mixed with expressionistic brush strokes. But why is that so? First off, it is not what I am used to seeing when I look at geometric artwork, I'm used to that controlled brush stroke and hard edge. In a broader sense, as a consumer I think that I have become intolerant to apparent imperfection. There is little room for it when buying something, I don't want an item with an imperfect paint job or a book with a creased cover. When I look around at most contemporary art, I see the 'flawlessness' conditioning of our commodity driven culture where artists don't leave anything to chance or potential imperfection. A lot of painting seems contrived, or risk free. Norton's looseness is a breath of fresh air and quite unexpected. Carmelina, Matisse 1903While having this internal monologue looking at the paintings, I remembered Matisse's Carmelina painted in 1903. For the time, I'm sure people had a similar reactions to the one I initially had when looking at Norton's paintings. The deliberate looseness and resulting imperfection within the portrait is off putting, engaging and ultimately inspiring. The same can be said for Rebecca Norton's work. It's a mysterious contradiction of risky painting within an apparently ordered geometric composition. It functions beautifully as a metaphor for the sub atomic, mathematical chaos that ensues behind the facade of our seemingly ordered visual reality.

TWFA'S Julika Lackner: Art Ltd Feature

EXCERPT FROM ART LTD MAGAZINE [divider] Julika Lackner: "Major New Works" at Alex Mertens Fine Art  by charles donelan Jan 2014 Julika Lackner Spectral Phase #4 2013 Acrylic, Oil + Alum-Silver on Canvas 96" x 72" Photo: courtesy Alex Mertens Fine Art Occasionally a young painter makes a quantum leap forward to a new level, and this seems to be the case with Julika Lackner, as evidenced by a fine and comprehensive exhibition this fall at Alex Mertens Fine Art, in Montecito, just outside of Santa Barbara. Lackner was raised and educated partly in Santa Barbara, partly in Berlin, and the balance she's achieved between the representational rigor and psychological tension of the Northern European tradition and the sun-soaked pleasure principle of Southern California makes her work both viscerally and intellectually engaging. Her new tack, which, to be fair, has been underway for at least three years, involves a shift from representation to abstraction--from standing apart from the scenes she paints to a kind of merging with the atmosphere. The self-assured elegance and power of this change was made possible by long hours of research and practice painting representational light situations, from lively night skies to lurid urban lightshows to aerial views semi-obscured by gauzy clouds. The new series of works, which are titled Spectral Phase numbered 1-8, were painted in 2013; they follow other, large immersive canvases from the years 2011 and 2012 with names like Daybreak and True North. They combine great washes of saturated acrylic color with reflective aluminum surfaces and fields of geometrically arranged brushstrokes in the ovoid shape of small lozenges, or, as critic Jeremy Gilbert-Rolfe has termed them, "boats." Their overall impact lands somewhere between Mark Rothko and the avant-garde cinema of Stan Brakhage. The term "boats" derives from the look of Lackner's 2008 series of representational aerial views of Los Angeles, and in particular from an image of Marina del Rey, called From Above, that depicts actual boats. However, in her new paintings, these floating signifiers have shipped anchor and begun to move through a new element that's part air, part water, and all visual sensation. Their presence in the midst of Lackner's masterful control of adjacent color values and reflective surface effects makes these paintings a persuasive contribution to the ever-shifting tradition of contemporary art in California, and beyond.