Haystack Mountain School of Crafts 2014

I just finished teaching a two-week printmaking workshop at Haystack Mountain School of Crafts on Deer Isle, Maine. This was my third time teaching there, the first of which was in 1994.

Haystack is a very special place for several reasons. It is located on the tip of a granite island on Penobscot Bay and was designed by Edward Larabee Barnes to be integrated into the landscape and have a low impact on the delicate ecosystem.

The director, Stuart Kestenbaum, a poet and all-around special human being, is caring, nurturing, funny and very interested in the studios on a daily basis. This is a place where people come to learn techniques in their respective disciplines but almost more importantly to experience time together in a way that day-to-day life does not provide.

In this workshop I covered several direct, non-technical, painterly ways to make prints. I feel that it is important to show ways for all artists to engage with printmaking in a way that is not restrictive, caustic or limited to age-old techniques and above all, lots of fun.

The eleven participants were all open-minded, hard- working, mutually supportive, engaged, excited and all made great work. People hit their strides at different times in the workshop but all did extremely well and will take new ideas and approaches to artmaking back to their studios.

I have been teaching one or two-week workshops at schools similar to Haystack for many years and feel very strongly that these institutions provide an environment in which people can achieve things they never knew they were capable of on many levels.

The world needs these places--and more of them. I saw things happen between people every day that were what we were put on the planet for: kindness, generosity, nurturing, understanding, patience, exploration, risk-taking, sharing, speaking the truth, crying, loving, caring and creating.

It is my hope that the 90 or so people that were there take these things back in to their lives and spread them out to others and keep them alive in the world.

Printmaking Workshops in Bangladesh: As the Trip Comes to an End

 

I conducted three printmaking workshops in Bangladesh in June 2014. Two were in the capital city of Dhaka and one took place at  Rasjshashi, which was a six hour train ride from the city.

 

The techniques I taught were monoprint, a one of a kind print, and chine-colle, a way to collage other materials on to the prints.

 

We were given the theme of "The Urban Experience" as a topic by our sponsors, The American Center of the U.S. Embassy Dhaka and the Bengal Foundation.

 

These workshops were very challenging for me as a teacher for several reasons but the students in all three workshops were extremely energetic, ambitious, cheerful, hopeful and hard -working. They came from various backgrounds, classes and geographic locations within Bangladesh.

 

Some spoke some English but we managed to communicate with the common-denominator of creating art together.

 

As I prepare to depart for home tomorrow I am filled with a mix of emotions about my time here. I love this country and its people, however it faces all of the issues of a densely populated country with limited resources and capacity to support its population in the long run.

 

This is my second time here teaching and probably my last. I wish my dear friends here all of the goodness and hope for the future and am thankful for all of the warmth and kindness that they have shown me.

We will have an opening this evening at the Bengal Art Lounge of over fifty prints made in the workshops, of which I am very proud.

A.S. June 25 2014

Supporting the Jaago Foundation School

In October of 2010, my colleague and fellow artist Whitney Baker and I were invited to Bangladesh to spend the month through a U.S. Embassy Visual Arts Initiative project titled "Janmasthaan/Native Land."

During my time in Bangladesh, I held art workshops with some leading Bangladeshi artists as well as students and community members. The workshops were centered around exploring the concept of where we all come from, what we have in common and our connection to the land. We also dug deep into the topic of how art can bring up issues about these things.

After working with artists and university students, we were invited to visit the Jaago School to work with children on an art project. I learned of the Jaago Foundation School from Garrett Wilkerson, a U.S. Embassy cultural affairs officer. I was looking for a worthwhile cause to support and Garrett suggested the Jaago as one to explore. After I inquired, I learned the school was interested in having me come and do an art workshop.

The workshop would culminate in assisting the children in painting a large mural at the school. From the moment I arrived at the school, after seeing the harsh reality of life in the streets of the neighborhood, I was overwhelmed by the joy and pride that the children expressed. My first impression was that the school was an oasis for the children in the midst of a life of struggle and extremely limited opportunities.

The school was very organized, with rules of conduct and behavior and a nurturing environment in which the students thrived. The staff, made up of a diverse group of young volunteers, was very courteous, professional and warmly caring. After a brief tour of the building, which was neat and clean, we entered a rear courtyard that had been transformed (with very little notice) in to an outdoor classroom/ studio, complete with awning and carpet for our workshop.

I was almost moved to tears when the one hundred children, dressed in clean uniforms, well –fed and with art supplies in hand, marched in, in orderly rows and took their places with us. Korvi Rackshand appeared and led the students through greetings and songs. I was particularly moved when they sang, "We shall overcome" in English and Bangla. After several songs, which they sang in a heartfelt manner, Korvi and the volunteers directed the students, aged from about 6-12, to assemble around the perimeter of the carpet for instructions. They were very well behaved and obedient. It seemed to me that they were well aware of the fact that being in the school was a tremendous opportunity for them.

With the help of an interpreter we introduced the idea of Native Land and asked them to begin drawings using their own supplies and some we had brought. As they quietly began drawing, Whitney and I painted a fifty foot long land and seascape line image on the white wall with small brushes. The idea was to do the outline and then use images that the children drew to populate the landscape. They all continued to concentrate and create images, calmly going in to their imaginations and pulling out everything from country scenes with trees, animals and people to scenes of the city where they live.

The art that they made was tremendous and every student’s was different. As some of the drawings neared completion we began to make selections of the images for the mural and asked the student to accompany us and hold up the drawing while we copied it larger to the mural in outline form. They then painted their name below the image. As we painted their images on the wall the mural began to take shape and to tell a story that became a mixture of fact and fantasy.

The students became very excited and all began milling around and pressing their drawings on us to copy, which was to be expected. We tried to get a little of each students work onto the mural. This whole process seemed to transport them to a world of ideas, images, colors and stories. After the line images were drawn the students were organized in to groups of ten or so and patiently waited in line to eventually be overseen by a volunteer while they painted colors with the oil –based enamel paint onto the wall. They loved the act of painting and were respectful of each other as they took turns.

When things got a little hectic Korvi would simply speak up with instructions and they would settle down. The volunteers were so helpful and supportive of the activity and so happy to see the kids so happy. The smiles and proud looks on their faces were unforgettable. In the end, the volunteers, as well as some of the students, had paint-covered hands. As the mural neared completion, the paint began to run out and the students calmed down, we were given a rousing “Thank You” from the students who then broke up into circles, each led by a volunteer. They recited the alphabet in English, went through numbers and sang songs. I sat in one of the circles and drew pictures of images that the kids called out and then they would spell the word describing the image in English.

After two hours or so of this magical time the students filed out in line as they had come in and the mural was nearly complete. I hope that the students are filled with pride when they see the mural and it reminds them of our time together. In one morning at the Jaago school I learned that faith in humanity and the effect that education can have on a local population is tremendous. I saw for myself the difference between the barefoot, tattered and hungry kids on the street and the students at the school.

Something as simple as a building, a uniform, a bite to eat, a little health care and some loving and caring teachers, can transform the lives of thousands, contribute to positive change and, in the long run, turn the tides in Bangladesh . Each and every student in the Jaago school will absolutely have a better life with a chance for advancement than those outside it’s doors, especially after learning English. What Korvi and his volunteers have and will continue to do at the Jaago school(s), with, so far, minimal funding, is more than a miracle for so many children.

The beautiful, magical and tragic country of Bangladesh needs a lot of help and this school is a beginning. I am now back at home in the U.S. and in retrospect, the morning at the Jaago School is one of the most remarkable experiences that I had in Bangladesh and, for that matter, in my life. Rafu, one of the students, did a drawing that was included in the American Center’s final exhibit at the Dhaka Art Center and I will never forget his face when he saw it framed and hanging at the opening.

I encourage anyone who can to support the school and/or sponsor a student and I hope to return to paint a bigger mural on the next Jaago school wall. For just $20/month, you can invest into the life of a child. I am thankful to Lauren Lovelace and the American Center of the U.S. embassy for making this experience possible and to Korvi Rackshand for seeing a need and finding a way to fulfill it.

[text & photos originally published at http://jaago.com.bd/volunteer-at-jaago/feedback/127-a-visit-to-jaago-foundation-school]

How to Make a Living as an Artist

Recently, I read an article in the Washington Post about professional artists working in the United States. As a full-time artist myself, this gave me something to think about and I wanted to share some of my thoughts here on the blog.

Except for the blue chip artists at the top (who also started at the bottom), making a living as a full time artist over a long period of time is incredibly difficult in many ways. Keeping the work relevant, fresh, honest and true for decades is the main challenge that professional artists face. And this doesn't even begin to address the issue of making money as a full-time artist.

It takes an odd combination of business skills and personality traits to develop and maintain relationships with galleries while also building a market and following for the work. The right attitude is sometimes difficult to maintain. The "art world" can be brutal in terms of its fickle way of treating artists, which is also a challenge.

Finding a balance between working in the studio, other life interests and staying connected to the world as well as people is important and different for every artist. It takes a deep commitment to the work, discipline and a constant curiosity about the world around us to maintain a consistent studio practice over many years.

 This is a serious endeavor. Art is work...that's why it is called an artwork. For all artists there are times when interest in the work wanes and one must continue working. There is really very little support for artists in this country except for the commercial marketplace. Because of this, making a living as an artist for an entire career is extremely difficult. That is why the percentages in the article are so low.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have been able to continue to make a living working in my studio. It is a hard won dream come true that could not happen without a few things. First are the galleries that I have worked with. Carol Stein at Cumberland Gallery in Nashville has believed in my work, exhibited and sold it for twenty five years.

Then there are the collectors who have supported my work over the years. I appreciate them immensely. There have been a handful who have continued to build significant holdings of my work, for which I am very thankful. These are relationships that are very special and an integral part of continuing to work in the studio and support myself.

Life as a professional artist has a certain ebb and flow. I would never want to discourage anyone who is considering pursuing the artist's life...but it's important to know going in what to expect.

I'd like to close with a quote from Steven Pressfield, author of The War of Art.

 

"Creative work is a gift to the world and every being in it. Don't cheat us of our contribution. Give us what you've got."

Shakerag Workshops 2013

I just finished teaching a weeklong printmaking workshop at Shakerag Workshops in Sewanee Tennessee.

Sewanee is the home of the University of the South and St. Andrews Sewanee high school, where the workshops take place. It is set on the edge of the Cumberland Plateau in rural Tennessee just north of Chattanooga.

Shakerag was started ten years ago by Claire Reishman who is a ceramic artist and English teacher at St. Andrews. I first met Claire many years ago while I was teaching at Haystack Mountain School of Crafts on Deer Isle .  She is a wonderful woman and  has made a huge contribution to the arts by creating  Shakerag.

The workshop I taught had twelve delightful and hardworking participants. We focused on collagraph  prints which simply means that one creates a textured collaged surface on wood panels which is then inked with oils paints applied with brushes and rollers and then run through  an etching press.

 

 

Each print is unique. The heavy paper is moistened which helps to create an embossed surface on the paper.

 

 

The class was so much fun and I feel inspired by the interactions and all that I learned from students and other instructors during the week.

 

 

There is such a feeling of camaraderie and deep bonding through the common interest in making things by hand at these workshops. All of the instructors give short presentations about their work and lives which I always find inspiring and eye opening.

 

 

I learn so much about craft and processes about which I was previously unfamiliar.

 

 

I began teaching these workshops when I was in my early thirties at Arrowmont School of Crafts in Gatlinburg Tennessee and have taught at Penland School of Crafts as well many times. Being involved with these schools has enhanced my life and work greatly in so many ways and I don’t think it all would have happened if I hadn’t moved to Tennessee in the mid-eighties.

The Forest Unseen: Looking at the land with eyes of an artist and a scientist

I've been connected with the folks at the St. Andrew's Sewannee School for some time. This is where I'll be teaching my upcoming summer collograph workshop, at the annual Shakerag Workshop.

As an artist living and working in rural Tennessee, thinking about how I connect with nature is a big part of what I do. I've written about my experiences gardening, spending time with the earth and just taking it all in.

This is why I wanted to share a wonderful book with you, written by a Botany professor at Sewannee by the name of David Haskell. Over the course of one year, Haskell observed the activity of 1 square meter of land on a wooded slope in Shakerag Hollow, Sewannee, Tennessee. His book, The Forest Unseen, chronicles just what he observed and witnessed during the 12-month period.

By taking time to stop and really observe the land, Haskell saw many things that others most definitely would miss.

As an artist, I rely very heavily on the powers of observation. All artists are individuals looking at the world, trying to glean something from what we see. That's what I experience when creating a new piece of work.

I often feel that as a society, we need more hope. And nature is a great place to look and find that such a hope does exist...if we simply stop and look for it.

Here's a short video about the book and Haskell's experience. I think you'll enjoy it.

Pictures, Not Words

I was recently invited to speak at the Frist Visual Arts Center because my woodcut and the block it was printed on are in the Martin Artquest Gallery. I shared some of my experiences with art education and I wanted to share them here with you on my blog.



"Lesson" acrylic, collage & found objects on panel

As a child, I went to public schools and we always had art class. I wasn’t a great student in general and being left handed made the writing messy. One of my earliest memories of doing art was with Mrs. Damico in second grade. She had us reach in to a paper bag and grasp an object and draw what it made us think of. I felt something furry (a rabbits foot keychain) and drew a squirrel with a gigantic tail. It won a prize in a local kids' art show but I remember loving the feeling of making something up on paper stemming from a real experience.

In high school I had Mrs. Hall for art, who was very supportive of my art interest and made up a job for me as art room monitor and gave me a key to the room. This was my first studio and the beginning of my identity as the artist.

My father told me once that as a child on my first visit to the library I told him “Daddy, pictures not words.” I had trouble reading but I drew constantly, making things up, copying comic books, and photographs- I loved the private space and the different sense of time that drawing and making things afforded me.

Museums played a big role too. I remember my father taking me to the Boston museum of Fine Arts when I was around 10 years old and seeing a Monet painting I had coveted in a book and was shocked that it existed in real life. I was mesmerized by the texture of the painted surface.

And so I have had a life in art that I never could have imagined as a child...by never relinquishing the private space of artmaking to the world. When I came to TN in the mid –eighties I worked for two years for the TN Arts Commission’s Artists in the Schools program for KMA. I went to schools all over East Tennessee and worked with mostly elementary school age kids of all socioeconomic backgrounds.I was inspired by the kids and saw that in first and second grade all 30 kids in the class made great, honest art.

I want to share a few excerpts of letters I received from the students.

Thank you for teaching me how to put light in my pictures

I never knew such artwork could exist. Before you came I could not draw at all. Now I am very ,very good

I like drawing because it was fun and we didn’t have to work

I wish in the future there would be more shapes

Thank you so much for the art project and for using up some of our time

I liked the lesson

I used the words from the last student note in a painting called Lesson that I did a few years ago (seen above). To me, using handwritten words and text adds meaning to a work.