KJ Interview and Historical References

Q: And you don't go out of your way to disguise your brush strokes. You've got this nicely rendered little grain bin, and then you've got this mark here. Do those marks have equal value, equal importance to you? I assume that they do.

A: Yeah, they do. I'm constantly walking this tightrope between wanting to describe something in reality, in a sense, and, at the same time, allow a departure from the reality with the paint itself. That the real reality of a painting is the way a painter applies the marks. But at the same time, there's a trick that goes on that fools the eye and allows you to see something, to represent something. Those things, I think, are something serious realist painters are constantly dealing with, working on and thinking about

Above was taken from an interview with Keith Jacobshagen. I can relate to what he is talking about because I deal with this a lot. Many times I find myself questioning how I want something to look. "Do I want it to look realistic or not?" This is an on going struggle that I think t I am losing.

It always seems like in my head I want a painting to look a certain way, and that there is one way to accomplish that. I would like to say that I want to approach the canvas in a more minimalist approach. That's not saying that I want to mimic that of a minimalist. I am trying to put on canvas just enough so that you know what is there. Rather than detailing a tree or a wooden post, I would like to put a mark that could be read as such an object. It is that moment I am remembering, so all the details are not there embedded in my brain.

Several weeks ago I read through the book "Spirit of Place" and I am going to share the artists (and hopefully post the painting) that I found to be helpful in one way or another to my own work.

1. Milton Avery "Tangerine Moon and Wine Dark Sea" 1959

"His process was reductive, gradually distilling an image to its most elemental shapes and patterns. The use of color was intuitive and expressive, freed from the dual constraints of nature and theory. Ultimately, they were lyrical expressions of the minor moments and simple pleasures of nature."

I chose this particular painting because I like how he has the uninterrupted horizon line like I do, along with the sky/land ratio.

2. Paul Resika "Horseleech Pond, Indian Red Sky" 1984

"...his ability to compress the particulars into their essential, emotive characters. The transient quality of the Cape light, is stripped of all that is superfluous, leaving only the pith of its fleeting mood."

This painting is not detailed at all. It is very painterly with evident brush strokes composing the clouds and trees. I like this because of that. The lack of detail makes it easy for me to project myself into the land.

3. Keith Jacobshagen "N.W. 84th St. & Agnew Road" 1983

"Something about the road paintings- they came about as a kind of way to go home- a formal epiphany of the journey. When I was a kid in the midwest it was a tradition to go for a Sunday drive. If the day was hot, then a country drive in the late afternoon to escape the heat of Wichita was a treat. I have fond memories of those warm late afternoons with their cool shadows stretching across gravel and dirt roads- sitting in the back seat of my father's Ford looking between my parent's heads at the road that seemed to move out, cutting through the wheat of grass fields. I think the space and thrust of those roads and how they defined the slight slope and flatness of the planes- the distance of things attracted me in an intuitive way."

This is perhaps my favorite painting in the book. It is the combination of the vast open skies and distance portrayed in his paintings that attract me to Keith Jacobshagen. Although he treats the paint differently than I do, it is this general feeling of the land that I try to capture. That feeling is one of expansiveness, of solitude.

4. Peter Poskas "Dawn, Nettleton Hollow" 1987

"His paintings of the farms, fields, and surrounding landscapes are distinctive in that he describes the nuance of change brought on by the progression of seasons, and the subtle shifts of mood created by the transient acts of light and weather."

I marked this painting because this scene reminds me of central new york in the winter. With the contour lines in the field under the pinks and oranges of the setting sky, it reminds me of a place where I once ran.

5. John Button "On Noyac Path" 1982

"...they emphasized nature's moods over its physical characteristic. If they painted what they saw, then it must be remembered that they selected those movements to retain. It was a move away from the objective stance of Contemporary Realism, but it was also the beginning of a return to the spirit of the luminists of the nineteenth century, who viewed the landscape with a sense of wonder."

I like the clouds in this painting that emphasizes the space. Placed low at the horizon line, the clouds help give off that glow at late evening after the sun has set. As you look up in the sky the more cool colors you see.

6. Robert Birmelin "Tidal Flats, Deer Isle, Sunset" 1978

"closer than courbet to his landscape sources [but] not as close as Millais is to his best pre-Raphaelite bramble thickets"

This painting is great because it does a lot to show off the distance. The horizon line is placed high in the composition to give me the feeling that I am standing in the foreground. He layers rocks on another to give a sense of the scale of them. The clouds in the sky emphasize the moodiness in the painting.

7. Sylvia Plimack Mangold "Zodical Light" 1980

Based on direct observation. "The trees and hills are all familiar subjects....I choose a subject I can return to over and over again so that the landscape is absorbed into a personal vocabulary. So that I can extend myself (my mood) into the mood of the space around me....."

I think her quote sums up what I am thinking. That personal vocabulary...extending her mood into the mood of the space around her...

Artist Wednesday

Toni Grote is my artist of choice for today, the Artist Wednesday of February 16 year 2011. I have discussed Mrs. Grote in the past and I thought it would be good to mention her again now. After not seeing her paintings for several months, it was nice to look back at them and reflect.

When I first started to paint these landscapes I came across Toni Grote and I was amazed. It was uncanny how similar we were working (to an extent). The way she divides the canvas is very similar to mine, along with her portrayal of these vast scenes.

It is interesting to see how many paintings she has of oceans since she lives in rural Iowa.

Elements of the creative process

Running is the easiest way for me to feel most connected and in tune with my surroundings.

What is that feeling like?

Happy, content is a better word. My body and the landscape (my surroundings) are feeding off of each other. The more beautiful the environment, the better it makes me feel inside, and the more removed I feel from my body. That is the feeling of "floating" that I described earlier.

It is the beauty of my surroundings that I am remembering.

Remembering of how I felt at that time, the weather, temperature, and the characteristics of the land.

But as I recall those memories, the point of view that I am seeing, is not from my own eyes. It is more of a view from above. Like the viewer is lifted out of my head, hovering slightly over. I think this is because as I am looking around at my surroundings, I am trying to capture and take in as much of it as I can. And the memories I have are of all of them mixed into one. Therefore I am not in my head.

I said that running is the easiest way for me to feel most connected with my surroundings, but it is not the only way for that to happen. It can occur while I am walking or hiking, and even driving. I think running is the easiest because I am moving through space at a faster pace, and I am able to see more that way. I can experience a lot through a relatively short amount of time. Walking or hiking on the other hand, is more of a slower process. I am still able to experience where I am in a physical way; it is just toned down a bit. The process takes a little longer. And I mentioned driving. I only experienced that feeling once by driving. And I think that was because I had been driving by almost 20 hours, and the land that I was driving by was so peaceful. After all, while driving, you are far removed from the outside world. You are in your own bubble, behind a piece of glass. Glass that is separating you from nature.

So how am I visually creating what I am verbally explaining? Good question, I am glad that you asked.

Like I said earlier, I am remembering of how I felt at the time. So it is the culmination of it all. I take into consideration the weather, the land terrain, the lighting, the particulars found in the land-such as corn stalks, streams, hills, etc., and my physical and emotional states. I internalize these and mesh it all into one form. And what are produced are my paintings.

So I take bits and pieces of memories that I have, and piece them together into way that I think will make a solid composition.

I seem to have a desire to depict physical space (distance) in my paintings. There is something about manipulating the surface that I am interested in. Being able to show space and depth on a flat surface is an idea that I like. I think this is because when I am out running, most of the time I like to look across to the horizon line. Being able to look across vast amounts of land, up to several miles, and still be grounded in one place (almost) is fascinating. I like to pretend that I am able to spread myself across all that distance, being able to be miles away at that horizon line and still be running where my body is.

I like to show that space in my paintings. I also like to do this to emphasize the sentiment of solitude. Typically, I run by myself. I can go up to 2 hours without seeing someone or speaking a word. It is in this time of personal detachment where I am able to be alone with myself, and listen to my interior noise. ""Running silences the exterior noise, but provides a place where the interior noise can be heard. It is impossible to silence the interior noise; it must be heard." -Roger Joslin

My paintings also tend to show more sky than they do land. This is because as I enjoy looking out across the land, I also like to look up towards the sky. It helps me forget about the pounding that my legs are taking on the hard surface, and helps put me at ease. I wish I could be floating up away into the clouds. I take an interest in also showing space in the sky, opposed to showing it on land.

The points of view in the paintings seem to change in relation to the composition. Sometimes the point of view suggests that the viewer is hovering off of the ground, while other times it does not. And sometimes it might show both. It might appear that you are looking up at the sky while looking down at the land.

This can be explained by revisiting what I said earlier.

When I am out running on the roads, trails, anywhere for that matter, I am constantly taking in and observing my surroundings. When I think back to those runs, I am re imagining them from all point of views, not just one. So it makes sense for the point of view to be mixed.

The colors that I choose are ones that I want to reflect this time of calmness and tranquility. Blue happens to be my color of choice for this reason. I find blues to really allude to that feeling of floating and mindful detachment.

Why I choose to use a larger canvas rather than a smaller one is because I want the viewer to be able to feel him or herself in my space. I like to pretend that I am actually in the space that I am looking at when in front of my paintings. I find this much easier to do in front of a large canvas opposed to a small, undersized canvas.

***To be finished later***

Statement

What I am painting are scenes that inspire me when I am most in tune with my surroundings in nature. There are several ways in which that can happen, the easiest being running. Although running is not the only way to experience it. It can occur while walking and driving as well. The scenes that inspire me are ones taken from actual locations. I internalize them, and what is produced is the culmination of it all. The physical act of moving; along with the weather, temperature, characteristics of the land. They are all meshed into one, and what I create are the offspring of it all.

I'm sure this can definitely be tweaked. But for now it is okay. I'm looking forward for feedback so that I can re-work it.

It was a dark and stormy night

This has nothing to do with my art but I thought it would be fun to share.

A few years ago I had to write a story for a Science Fiction class, and this is it.

I totally forgot about it and read it a few minutes ago. I actually like it a lot.

It was a dark and stormy night….actually it wasn’t. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood. That is a lie too. If you want to know the setting of this story just reach back into the depths of your mind and create one. There! That is what the day was like when it first began. But you are asking yourself, “When what began? What is he talking about?” Well, I will tell you soon enough. Like now.

The yellow school bus dropped off Josh after school on Booth Road. He began his walk up the gravel driveway when he first realized something big has happened. I bet you are asking yourself, “What happened? Tell me!” I will tell you, but not right now. As I said, Josh was walking up his driveway when he first got an inkling that something happened. He knew this because at the end of the driveway he saw a UPS truck sitting there, not with a care in the world. Frightened, he stopped in his tracks for a moment and began to think, “Uh oh…the truck is here and it’s not even Wednesday. Why would the UPS truck come on a Tuesday afternoon? I did not order anything.” He would soon find out. Josh continued up the driveway, shortening the distance between himself and the big brown truck with every step he took. As he was walking he noticed how pretty the flowers and trees looked that were growing on his property. He began to wonder why they were put there. As Josh lurked closer and closer to the truck, he began to remember the time when a family of snowmen got brutally murdered in his front yard,

It was a snowy afternoon on Booth Road when Kyle and Josh witnessed an event so macabre that it was later told around a campfire. Kyle was behind the wheel of a Subaru station wagon while Josh was holding a video camera in the passenger seat. Kyle was driving eighty miles an hour up Josh’s driveway, the minimum speed limit, when he plowed through a gathering of snowmen. This turned into a huge mess. There were snow arms, snow legs, and snow heads scattered everywhere in the yard and on top of the station wagon. Josh quickly got out of the vehicle to videotape the scene. What he saw made his stomach churn. The same kind of churning that occurs when you smell road kill on a hot summer day. He immediately began interviewing eyewitnesses what had just occurred. “Oh man! My poor mother just got run over by a drunk driver! This is awful, I can’t believe this happened,” cried a little girl. A much older man told Josh that everything happens for a reason. And that if this had not occurred he would not be on camera right now or this story would not be told. Among the witnesses a particularly peculiar pretty snow-women was circling around with small gestures. Only when looking at her, one got the feeling of being in love. So Josh turned away immediately and saw that Kyle had a baseball bat in his possession and was hitting every snowman he saw in the face. Their cold faces came crashing to the ground after being hit with an aluminum rod.

Josh then came to his senses when his dog, Max Station, came running into the front yard with IT in his mouth. “What is he doing with IT?” thought Josh. Max continued running down the grass hill until he jumped up over a stump and began to fly away. After a few seconds Max was almost a kilometer away, slowly disappearing into the distance. One can only wonder where Max was going. It is possible that he may be going to bark at a few airplanes hovering above the earth. Who knows?

What Josh did know was that this brown truck was still sitting in his driveway. After knowing that it would not bite him, Josh walked right up to the back of the truck. He kneeled down behind the back tires and noticed that it still felt warm and smelled of burning rubber. He knew it had not been here for long. But exactly how long had it been parked above the gravel lying underneath it? Josh did not know. He slowly stood up, not wanting to get lightheaded and dizzy, risking himself to the possibility of passing out. And the last thing Josh wanted was to be unconscious next to a UPS truck in his driveway. As he stood up he noticed some smudges in the dust on the back of the truck.

W.A.S.T.E.

“Four legs good, two legs bad!”

After noticing what had been written in the dust Josh heard something behind him. He turned to look over his left shoulder but nothing was behind him. “Great…now I’m hearing things,” Josh said to himself. He began to wonder what the sound was. If you want to know what the sound was, I will tell you. It was an invisible eight-inch creature that I created to be added into this scene. It dug itself up from ground and broke a twig as its head hit the oxygen that we breathe in. After this happened the invisible creature got so afraid that he ran away as fast as I made his legs move, which was pretty fast. This species is known to cover one mile in two and a half minutes. But we don’t have time to watch this when Josh is standing behind a truck. A brown truck nonetheless. A brown UPS truck that has been sitting in his driveway for an undetermined amount of time. If you really want to know how long the truck has been sitting in his driveway for I will tell you. It has been there for five minutes. I know this does not sound like a lot, but a lot can be done in five minutes. You will find out later what was done.

After hearing what he heard, Josh turned back around at the truck in front of him. A few seconds later he heard the front door to his house open. He quickly dropped down to the gravel and loose stone to hide from whatever had just left his house. Josh knew it was neither his Mom nor Dad because the truck was the only vehicle in the driveway. He heard footsteps walk over grass and stone as they became louder. There were becoming louder because the footsteps were getting closer. This is common physics, F=MA. But we don’t have the time to quarrel about physics. As the footsteps got closer Josh crawled into Forsythia – Lynwood Gold shrub. What he saw did not surprise him, a person dressed as a UPS deliveryman. This man, we will call him Chuck, looked real official. He was wearing an issued UPS uniform that consisted of a brown vest worn above a cotton t-shirt with a short pair of brown shorts. On his feet was a pair of brown ADIDAS sneakers. He normally wore a size ten and a half but these sneakers happened to be a size too big. Chuck often felt like a clown walking around without makeup on.

As Chuck was walking to his truck whose license plate happened to read “4B28227”, he heard a voice shout from a nearby tree. “Hey, you!” the voice exclaimed. Chuck turned to the direction where the voice came from but could not see anyone. “Yo! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” the voice shouted again. Chuck responded, “Excuse me? Who’s there?” But there was no answer. Chuck had no idea who was creeping in the trees yelling at him, he did not care.

This distraction, thought of by Josh as he was crawling in the bushes, was just enough time for him to dart into the house and close the door behind me. “All I need to do is go back in time twenty four hours ago and place that recorder in the trees so it will be there to use again in this same situation.” After closing the door Josh took off his shoes and threw them at the wall. When his shoes made contact with the wall they were sucked in without leaving a scuff. These shoes would travel in the intestines of the wall and be expelled a few miles away where young children, too young to be working in a factory while being paid next to nothing, would repair them and make them look brand new to be shipped off back to where they came from via UPS.

Excerpts

I am currently filtering through entries, trying to make one cohesive statement.

Retrospectively, I have these feelings that I don't really feel when I am there. Why is that?

It is as if I'm looking at myself out there on a T.V. screen, hovering over my right shoulder. Why that angle? When I am out there it is a different feeling. Maybe it is because I am so involved in the act (of running) and not thinking about those feelings, but that is where they are manifested.

I am the only soul out there. I am surrounded by nature and its inhabitants, but I do not see them. It is just me out there.

I get so damn nostalgic.

I believe the sky to be a little more important than the ground. This is because I tend to see more sky than land when I am out running in those vast landscapes. It also helps me acquire that floating feeling.

It's another way for me to show space I suppose. Instead of showing distance horizontally, I want to show it vertically. I love the gradation of the colors. The colors of the sunset bleeding into the darkness of night. As I run during this time it creates a mood that is haunting yet peaceful.

I really get that feeling at the beach. Standing in the ocean when it's dark out. The sun just set in the west. And as your looking eastward, you know nothing is there except darkness. The vastness of the ocean is overwhelming. I feel like if I don't get away soon something will reach out and grab me. Such a lonely and depressing feeling. Seeing the lights all the way out in the distance, you feel so far away and helpless. There is openness everywhere, in all directions. The thousands of miles across the ocean, the hundreds of miles below you, the infinite space above you. Just darkness. The same sky gradation I'm talking about goes the same for the ocean's water. Starts out with some light but the deeper you travel down, the more darkness there is.

I am basing them (my paintings) off of my memories and of my feelings while I'm out running. How I remember them to be after a run

The viewer seems not to be grounded on the land, but rather the point of view suggests to somehow be lifted off the ground, up into the air. When I think back to those runs where my body feels disassociated with the ground, it is as if my body/spirit is floating above the terrain. I am in such a meditative state that my mind seems to be gone.

I like to pretend that my "spirit" is floating across all that distance while my mind is still running on the roads. It is an attempt to be in two places at once.

For some reason what I am painting and talking about is not as strong while I am running, but instead afterwards. So what am I painting? I am attempting to capture the essence of the combination of everything that is going through my head.

It is the culmination of my running experience. At the time of the run and after. But usually not until after is when the feelings are the strongest.

The feelings and memories that arise in my head are not created until after the act of running is completed. Physically being there is the first step in the process. The process of remembering where I was, how I felt, and the act of putting it on canvas. They are brief moments that I remember . I am putting them on canvas in a more abstract/expressionist way. It is the flash of memory. It is a feeling, so it's hard to put into words.

Running is ideal, easiest? way to remember them.

So maybe the paintings are not about running per se, it is just the tool for me to remember easier. I can remember those scenes, running, walking, not really driving. But sometimes.

That feeling is one of expansiveness, of solitude.

When there are open fields it is easier for me to think, I feel more comfortable. It allows me to see more.

I always seem to go back to wanting to depict physical space (distance) in my paintings.

(of how I paint)

I let the process of painting influence me.

I don't necessarily have a clear, precise image of what I want to paint beforehand. Frequently, I will start to paint, see something- a mark, a pattern, on the canvas. And that will inform me what to do next. Sometimes this works, other times it does not.

I also paint physically. Often times really pressing down on the canvas, vigorously swiping the brush back and forth.

No title

I always seem to go back to wanting to depict physical space (distance) in my paintings. I have been interested in this for 3 years now. There is something about manipulating the surface, whether it be canvas or paper, that I am interested in. Being able to show space and depth on a flat surface is an idea that I like.

Why is it important for my paintings?

Well maybe it is because when I am out there, running primarily, I am looking out into the distance, towards the horizon line. I still need to find out why it is that I am attracted to the horizon. I kind of know why, but the words aren't there for me to articulate it. It is more of a feeling for now.

I will write some more stuff later

Lilford Gallery

I forgot the mention this.

http://lilfordgallery.com/

I found this earlier in the day whilst taking a break from painting.

Two artists that I really like are Katrina Taylor (her website isn't working now) and Ric Horner (I don't think he has a website either).

Here are a few of their paintings. The first 2 are by Katrina Taylor.

What I like about them are the subtleties that are given so that you recognize them as landscapes; especially the first 2 and last paintings. That is something that I have been questioning myself. Do I want the viewer to read them dead on as landscapes? Or do I want to give them just enough information, so that it can be still be read as a landscape, just a little more obscure.

I think I am doing that somewhat, just not a ton. I don't render what I am putting in the scenes realistically. It's more of the mood and feeling of the landscape that I want to be evoked. (?)

New painting

This picture really isn't the best to show the colors, but it will have to do for now.

I started it today, so it was the first step of many. I'm not really in the mood to talk about it now. I will save that for tomorrow morning.

"Running silences the exterior noise, but provides a place where the interior noise can be heard. It is impossible to silence the interior noise; it must be heard."

-Roger Joslin

This quote was in a book that I read over break. I found it to be very true to my own running. It is the time when I am able to think most clearly and really ponder what it is I am doing and trying to say with my paintings.

A thought

When there are open fields it is easier for me to think, I feel more comfortable. It allows me to see more.

I like to see art that is based off of observations.

How people see something and their interpretation of it.

Not so much an idea or concept, but something that is actually there.

Physically. Like a landscape, a scene, a location.

It shows off their language and creativeness. It shows something that nothing else can (no other media).

You can't speak of a painting and it will appear.

Artist Wednesday

The artist I chose for this first Artist Wednesday is Keith Jacobshagen.

Taken from the book "Spirit of Place" by John Arthur...

The plein-air, premier-coup paintings of the back roads of Nebraska by Keith Jacobshagen are remarkable evocations of place and mood. These diminutive pieces are distinguished by their painterly explicitness, expansive scale, and deep affection for the land. Typically, there are notations across the bottom describing the weather and other particulars of the moment.

Jacobshagen has described the impulse behind his landscapes in a recent letter:

Something about the road paintings- they came about as a kind of way to go home- a formal epiphany of the journey. When I was a kid in the midwest it was a tradition to go for a Sunday drive. If the day was hot, then a country drive in the late afternoon to escape the heat of Wichita was a treat. I have fond memories of those warm late afternoons with their cool shadows stretching across gravel and dirt roads- sitting in the back seat of my father's Ford looking between my parent's heads at the road that seemed to move out, cutting through the wheat of grass fields. I think the space and thrust of those roads and how they defined the slight slope and flatness of the planes- the distance of things attracted me in an intuitive way.

It is the combination of the vast open skies and distance portrayed in his paintings that attract me to Keith Jacobshagen. Although he treats the paint differently than I do, it is this general feeling of the land that I try to capture. That feeling is one of expansiveness, of solitude.