Mixed media (March 2023)

Between.

In this 17th model-specific series the subject was Harmony, a young guy with amazing hair and a very intellectual approach to relationship.

This series was the first time I used the “taped out” format I had been experimenting with for the last few months. Prior to sketching the figure I taped over sections of the white ground so that, when removed, there would be space between “bars”. This was a total experiment and I had no idea if it would work.

I started on this exploration asking, how do I illustrate “between”? An obvious solution is to have blank space between two objects. So that’s the starting point. Now how does that work between two people? You have the model/subject and the artist/viewer. The space between them is physical. He’s over there. I’m over here. But there are things in that physical space between — a chair, a rug, a doorway or even air molecules and light. If I painted other objects then the viewer would see the scene but not necessarily notice the between space.

And what if that between space if filled with perceptions and emotions or even conversation? How does that get expressed in a two dimensional painting?

And if that between space is what I want to viewer to pay attention to what is the best way to engage the viewer in noticing or even filling that between space with their own perceptions, emotions or scenery?

Lots of questions. Harmony was a beginning step in finding answers.

Mixed media (January 2023)

Action.

In this 16th model-specific series the subject was Paul, a long-time acquaintance. After working on the two prior series I wanted to work with a subject and in a way that was more immediate, more action oriented.

Paul has a strong presence. Our conversations have always been serious and transparent. Nothing complicated. Nothing hidden. Direct. And so, action painting seemed the best approach. Quick, strong gestural mark making. Fluid, visceral painting. Not as “abstract” as Jackson Pollack, but more in the realm of Arshile Gorky whose work opened the door to abstract expressionism. I wanted to use this idea of expression and action, but keep the figure central to the work.

There are times when you want to linger and to explore. But there are other times when you just want to get it out on paper and be able to see it, not just feel it or imagine it.

I got what I saw in the space between and there was no reason to over work it.

Mixed media (December 2022)

Struggle and transition.

In this 15th model-specific series the subject was Jin, a man who embodies change, whether he resists it or not. A man floating in a world he wants to be a part of but to whom suspicion, hurt, and danger are always present. An asylum seeker. A crime victim. A man disappointed by his circumstances, but unclear or unsure about how to change them.

When working on a series or a portrait, sometimes I find it is the narrative that is the most important thing to express. Abstract narratives have been approached differently by different artists. Some tell their story in gesture, or color, or lyric musicality.

With Jin the pieces are chapters telling the story of emergence and separation. There is passion and danger. There are cultural references and honest perceptions, but in the end despite all the feelings and history there is just one person — a single figure split between fading away and standing out.

There are choices to be made.

Mixed media (September 2022)

Filling the space with joy (and family).

In this 14th model-specific series the subject was Jason (JL because there have been a couple of Jasons!) This is a man who fills the room wherever he is. Loud in demeanor, a voice that carries for miles, JL has a fearless way of entering the world. He is generous and just plain fun. He has a husband, two kids and works with his mother. He projects simplicity but, there are lots of moving pieces.

And so, collage, the act of piecing things together and gluing them down, seemed the right venue. Under the painting are pieces of the puzzle, layers of things that can’t be seen. Patterns, people, edges — the visual idea of history. There are all kinds of collage artists — from Henri Matisse to Pablo Picasso to Robert Rauschenberg to Mark Bradford — who have commanded collage to express feeling, to create texture, to explore theories, and to comment on culture.

I’m only scratching the surface with JL.

In the space between, I was intrigued to see elements, graphic ones and subtle ones, of a person who lives in the moment with strength and humor, all the while embracing a very different life from mine.

There’s a lot there.

Mixed media (March 2022)

To split. The act of opening up.

In this thirteenth model-specific series the subject was Max, a young surgeon who I was happy to meet in the studio and not in an operating room. I said “you must be a student of anatomy.” He said he was fascinated by the “artist’s gaze.”

That left a lot of space in the “space between” for exploration.

Willem de Kooning is a well known abstract expressionist from the 50s. Sometimes I look at his work when I’m pondering ways to abstract the figure. In his painting Woman III for example, there is an emotional context to both his paint application and the way he dissects the figure (though I find his feelings about women more than disturbing).

With the Max series I struggled with the pieces and the whole. I struggled with finding a way to express the emotional content. There was more to Max then met the eye. To be a surgeon he has to be pretty sure of himself. Confident. I got that. But he also has to be detached. Cool. He has to separate himself from the actions he is taking — cutting into a human body.

How do you do that? You separate yourself more, perhaps. But where do the emotions go? What form do they take? How are they expressed? Where do you end up in the space between?

Mixed media (November 2021)

Provocation education.

In this twelfth model-specific series, the subject was Ti, a complete unknown and I sensed he wanted to keep it that way. An odd juxtaposition — modeling — very exposed — but holding back. I felt I was being tested, enticed, or provoked into proving myself. I did find out he had been a dancer and was now a professor, so maybe that teacher/student mode was a performance situation he was comfortable with.

The “space between” was suddenly full of power, contrast, and urgency.

The sketches were vague and incomplete.

The figure kept running off the page.

There was a lot to capture in a limited time — Ti had another engagement following our drawing session. The clock was ticking.

My usual process is to draw six sketches, thank the model, and after they leave, start to paint the experience on my own. I have settled into telling a chronological narrative in order from 1 to 6. My “storytelling” has often started with a more recognizable figure in the first panel, then begins to deconstruct until the figure reconstructs by panel six.

Ti’s series fit this pattern initially, but what I started to sense was that the panels were spilling over into each other. The chronology of my time with Ti wasn’t as linear as I was trying to impose. The “space between” couldn’t be contained in six panels. The whole experience was one unit. I pushed the pieces together. Allowed the figures to flow into their neighbors. I wanted to capture the movement and the dance.

As any good teacher would, Ti pushed me into a new way of seeing and creating my work. So what at first felt like resistance was really a generosity I hadn’t experienced before. I was challenged without being instructed. A very special teaching talent.

I’m left with the feeling that there is still a lot to learn. There are so many times in my work that I just want to get it “right” when what I should want is to keep growing and discovering. There is no one way.

Life is a learning experience. There are countless teachers out there. For an artist that’s a very good lesson to learn.

And having the right teacher, at the right moment, doesn’t hurt.

Mixed media (September 2021)

Encounter.

In this eleventh model-specific series, the subject was Saumitra — sharp, engaged, aggressive. I like to think that I’m a free agent simply going with the flow of the encounter and peering into the space between. But from the get-go Saumitra wasn’t having any of that. He was there to model — to be noticed. I felt overwhelmed and out of control. He had an expectation and he wanted it to be satisfied. That immediately made me feel insecure. These modeling sessions were not usually a tug-of-war. Usually they were amateur models looking for direction. I get to be reassuring and engage them in conversations.

Here was a rush of water — a small tsunami — moving, daring, intoxicating. Everything felt rushed. Everything felt like it had to get done. Process be damned. Results. Results. Results.

And so, after he left, I decided to start with watercolor instead of my usual pastel and acrylic. Watercolor is not a medium I am comfortable with — nor particularly skilled at — but Saumitra demanded a stretch — something different. Layering while I tried to visualize my response to him in the space between. Bubbles. Portholes. Something light. Something floating. Taking things apart so that they can be put back together.

This has been a challenging time. A summer that started on a hopeful note and ended feeling unmoored.

Disruption.

Nothing is normal.

Is it ever?

Mixed media (June 2021)

Narrative and value.

In this tenth model-specific series, the subject was, again, Isaiah — third time is the charm. And, like the earlier series, a narrative element demanded attention. From a shadow figure lurking in the background of the first painting to the two figures ending in an overlay in the final painting, the struggle of the relationship between the model and the artist in the space between is in the forefront.

Wrestling, attacking, dancing, and dissecting are some of the actions I see in this particular relationship. The commingling of form and content — of what is physically present and what exists in beyond the tangible. A look, a scent, a word, a tone shifts the space between completely.

These paintings were worked on during Covid times when everything seemed so insecure. I wanted certainty. I was exhausted by routine. Sometimes there is more in the space between then just the experience.

I discovered some videos on YouTube from Art2Life that emphasize the importance of value, design and color. It felt like the right time to embrace the blackness and whiteness of things. Isaiah, being of mixed race, felt like the right vehicle for that exploration. I’m sure another entire conversation is happening here that I’m just beginning to see.

Mixed media (November 2020)

Protection.

In this ninth model-specific series, the subject was Alex — a friend of a friend. He’s young, handsome, guarded, smart, and a bit of a smart aleck. He projects the confidence and bravado of a young guy who isn’t sure where everything is heading or how he even got here. Every question I ask he’s got an answer. There’s a chip on his shoulder. He’s daring me to see something, but I’m going to have to work at it. He’s not handing me anything.

Armor. He’s wearing a lot of invisible armor. There are cracks. It isn’t perfectly made. He’s unsure what he wants. He must have dared himself to do this. He wants to be idolized. And if I was the type of painter who wanted to objectify someone — Alex would be a good choice. But I’m looking for something else.

Struggle. Fighting to be seen. Just wanting to be looked at. Break this apart. Something beautiful is there. Simple. Primary. Complicated and getting lost.

Who’s here? Alex, me, our mutual friend. Lots of conversations about others — family, girlfriend. Getting hard to see him. Determined. At cross purposes. No one is going to be happy.

And there’s something on the horizon creating more distance. More separation. More resistance. We are about to head into a pandemic. Masks. Distance. Longing to connect. Knowing it isn’t safe. More complication. More broken parts trying to hold together. The more separation the more desire to come together.

Nothing is easy.

Mixed media (May 2020)

Outside.

In this eighth model-specific series, the subject was Whipple (“a family name” he told me). This was our first and only meeting — a random encounter in a rare moment of acknowledgement. We went to the same college, but at different times.

So that meant there was a lot to discover. Who was this stranger willing to wander in to an artist studio and become the subject of an abstracted portrait? I asked a few polite questions to learn a little of his life, but in this moment, at this time, I decided just to look.

What resulted was a process where I glazed over the sketches until they were only faint hints of the original subject. The thought was to reduce the grounding elements and make space for the experiential ones.

And then, suddenly, everything about Whipple became gray. The one visual component that lingered was his large scar down the center of his chest. The space between filled up with broken pieces — shattered, jagged marks. But there was also space and depth — an action of reaching in from the outside — pulling something out.

The portrait started to remind me of the work of Joan Miro, Frank Lobdell and Nathan Oliveira. Dark creatures telling darker narratives without words and the importance of symbols. The embrace of what appears random but is purposeful and thoughtful. An experience that can only be understood by looking no matter how many words are attached to it.

Paintings have their own language. So do relationships.

This is what Whipple said to me.