A Series of 6

This series of 6 paintings (4 are 2' square, and 2 are 3' square) began in the summer of this year, and are still being addressed at least three times a week, as the dry time of oil paint allows. This theme and aesthetic is not new, and these paintings are all following a very similar pattern, yet they all diverge from one another as the conditions of the composition change each week. For some time, this work stood apart from the drawn lines and points of the observed grid compositions, but the similarities are more rooted than I ever anticipated.

Each of these canvases began with the same pattern of lines and shapes drawn in pencil on the blank white gesso, they also have the same color palate, and they are all being painted at the same time (though some began before others). However, the slightest variations in size and surface condition have required a customized approach, setting each canvas on an individual path that becomes more and more pronounced as they continue. Now, it is obvious that these paintings are also subject to chaos, though they present such a solid and centered pattern.

Decision/Chance

In thinking of process, the weight of decision becomes paramount. There are several ways to approach the philosophy of decision-making, but in this series, the question looms: to what degree does one control one's decisions, and of what significance is that control?
Upon the completion of panel#17, the process of observation combined with dictation/record-keeping has illuminated the finer points of production. If I can pare down the basic elements of these compositions and clarify the language by which I interpret them, then I need to look deeper into why these elements exist in the forms that they do.
So many of the bygone decisions made in the evolution of these drawings are now a priori; in order to awaken these 'lost senses' of decision-making, there must begin a collection of decision making tools that will assist in the realization of every element of the composition. In order to design these tools, each and every little line, point, color, number, length, and position will have to be scrutinized and then I will have to design the decision tools to function in such a way as to allow me to have some control over the final result. To give up all control over the final image is simply unthinkable to me right now. I have to have some control over what happens on these panels in order to make images that will function successfully in an aesthetic arena.
The control that I need to have will manifest as a control over the labeling of areas of the grid (if the columns of the right and left side have the same names, their representation is half of the representation of rows that are each individually named across the two sides), of creating schemes (for example, if one color is drawn as a starting point, all subsequent colors must follow according to order), and in the design of the tools themselves (if I draw rocks from a bag, I might learn to recognize the subtle differences in the shapes of rocks that I prefer). Maybe, one day, I will learn to love and trust chance, but right now I feel as though I would just be left out; as though all of my hard-earned individual artistic knowledge and expertise on the subject were worthless (uh ohhh...not ready to explore that...).
Currently, this project is a tool for dissection, and a meditation on decision-making. It is like a child that will endlessly ask, "why?", and then about the point when the answerer will finally run out of answers.

Glass Chaos Drawing #1

The glass panel study for #12. Looking again at the Glass Chaos Drawings, I realize that I will have to go buy a thicker leaded mechanical pencil. Not ink, and not black, but thicker pencil. This piece is 12" by 12" by 2", acrylic on two panels of glass made in 2008.

Panel 2 (from drawing #12)

I have begun the second panel, this time with somewhat larger text and much larger points. My organizational system is greatly improved, and I wish that I had begun with this drawing (from an original drawing made in Quito in 2006 labeled #12 on the back of the paper- obviously made before #17). The fact that this drawing has only two 'poles' and a left and right rather than hemispheres makes it much less complicated to observe than #17.

Finished drawing; Finished Piece?

All elements of the drawing have been completed, with some mistakes and modifications, and every step is dutifully recorded. However, I do not consider this to be a finished piece.

After much deliberation, I have decided not to darken any lines within the grid; the delicate look of the thin grey lines is better than any previous attempts I have made to create these drawings with thicker or darker ink. My hope is that the lightness of the lines will draw viewers closer to the surface (yet to be seen...)

The text on the margins of the grid have presented many problems: One; if this piece is hung on a wall, reading the text (which is written from all directions--often upside down or sideways), is problematic. Two; reading the text is problematic anyway because it is cryptic and confusing, and lacks any obvious systematic organization. Three; the effect of the small lettering is a bit too distracting; I would like to see the text, but still recognize the grid drawing as the dominant visual element. Given these problems with the current configuration of the text, it cannot be removed from the immediate borders of the drawing. Putting the rules on a panel to the side or otherwise detaching them from the creative surface would not serve my purposes conceptually; I do not want them to come off as contrived or gimmicky, and I don't want to elevate them to some self-important stand alone status. Their role in the drawings must be on level with, or slightly less emphasized than the finished image.

Some of these problems can be solved in this piece: A stand to support the surface as a tabletop can easily be built, allowing for viewing in-the-round (this also forces viewers to approach the piece more intimately), and a darker pencil line can be drawn around the perimeter of the grid, framing the drawing and giving it emphasis. Other of these problems however, will have to be solved in subsequent pieces; I now know what structural elements need to be clearly labeled, and can more systematically observe the individual steps (I would like to eventually get them down to one-line equations...). What I hope to see happen is the evolution of a symbolic language that informs these drawings, one that is clear and concise and can assume a more aesthetically pleasing role.

I am not yet going to seal this surface, but I am getting started on the next.

Working Decisions

In the last couple of days, a few new ideas have occured to me. One: I should be able to trust decisions that I make while I am working (decisions made while idle are usually either fruitless or banal). Two: Maybe I should continue to make the same drawing over and over again on all three surfaces, or at least two, and only change the format of the 'rules'. As I make this interpretation of #17, I am beginning to realize that my organization is very clumsy, and could be improved upon, so that should be explored. Three: these pieces are probably best viewed as horizontal surfaces; not hanging on the wall.

Also, a friend visited the studio and submitted an idea which may become the point of departure for a future installation. It involves drawers--I can say no more.

Barter

These two paintings (both oil on canvas, 2' by 2') were made as a pair in 2004. They were inspired by Costa Rican rainforest. They have been close to my heart, as I still see the colors and subtleties of the rich vegetation high on the mountain slopes of Trogon. More importantly, I recall the feeling of that place--the cool humid air, the music of the numerous bird calls, the sounds of the stream... I could go on, but I paint; I am no wordsmith. So these paintings are meant to reflect the perfect harmony and balance of that forest, and they represent the memory of a moment when everything in the world seemed just right.

Independent Lines

I have begun to map the 'Independent Lines' which are defined as any lines that are not either Original or Additional Grid Lines (OGL or AGL). This piece has already diverged from grid drawing #17 in a major way due to un-erasable errors that occured in the corners, but the composition remains fundamentally the same.

With All Color Points

All regular colored points have been mapped and recorded; one mistake was made, but dealt with. It is amazing how many little errors occur. Paint is a very malleable medium, and traditional painters have always had the option of painting over mistakes; when I began painting (of course with still-lives and portraits and the like), I felt that I had a particular freedom that sculptors and others did not- I could endlessly cover and manipulate my images. The more I paint, however, the less I feel that way; when working with minimalist ideals and now grid compositions, errors have to be addressed in completely new ways. My challenge has been to accept these inevitable errors and embrace them as a necessary element of creative production. In fact, the little mistakes have given life to grid drawings in a way that could not be possible with strict perfection.

June 17, 2009

The 'Original Grid Lines', 'Additional Grid Lines', and points in colors #1 and #2 have been mapped. All relevant rules of engagement, up to this point, have been dutifully recorded on the margins. No non-grid lines have yet made an appearance.
Once points in color#1 had been made, the rules had to be recorded; however, since I had been writing in the margins in such a way that my arm would have smudged the wet dots of paint unless I wrote with my arm dangling in mid-air (which would have compromised the integrity of the lettering), I decided to wait for the paint to dry. Today, when I returned to the studio, the rules of color#1 were written first, and then the rules of color#2. After writing the rules, I went to work dotting the points of color #2 when I realized that I had make a silly mistake in my initial observation of the location of points #2. It is better, I have decided, to make the points first; that experience allows me a more intimate understanding of the connection between the grid and the individual points. Also, I might direct my writing in such a way as to be able to avoid the wet painting while I am recording my observations.

Mapping the Grid

To begin the first piece, I must lay out the ground rules for the grid, and in order to dictate the movement of the lines and placement of dots, there must be a symbolic order for the sake of reference.

Glass Chaos Drawing #2

This Drawing, made in 2008 on two panels of glass, measuring 12" by 12" by 2", was made from "#17". However, there is no serious decision making either evident or inherent in this particular piece. There is a simple deconstruction of the elements of #17 broken down by color, grid, lines, and points. These individual drawing elements are each contained upon their own surface, and come together to form this spacially dis-jointed finished piece.

The First Muse (#17)

This grid drawing, made in either late 2006 or early 2007 (There is no date on the paper, just "#17" written on the back), was made without any documentation of process. At the behest of my Ecuadorian mentor, Oswaldo Viteri, I abandoned the strict practice of always thinking and re-thinking every creative decision made in my artistic production. By taking his suggestions, grid drawings began to form in altogether different ways; they did not require nearly as much time to complete, and so more time could be devoted to creative compositional elements, and when what might have been rules were broken, there was no need to erase or correct those divergent details.

In my new series, these drawings are revisited, their unwritten guidelines and codes of conduct revealed for the sake of re-creating their image. To do this, each line and point must be investigated, labeled, and recorded; and each mistake made must become part of the process.

This very drawing has been used previously to determine "Glass Chaos Drawing #2", but in a very different way.

Three Surfaces

These are three surfaces that I have rehabilitated (they have now recovered from the shitty art that they once were, though still in danger of relapse-I pray for them), made of Sintra. The plastic surfaces are 4' by 4', or 8 square feet each, and I plan to revisit some of my grid drawings on them. The sanded surface that has resulted from my erasure of previous imagery is buttery soft and much more accepting of pigment and light than the original plastic veneer (why didn't I think of this sooner?!). I would like to work mainly in graphite for its unique color and line, as well as for its endless malleability. I bought three gallons of System Three Mirror Coat resin to seal them, enough for 75 square feet of coverage, or three layers per panel, and am grappling with the proper use of this new technique. My original idea was to utilize layers of resin as I have used glass panels in my 'Chaos Drawings' ( Chaos Drawings #1 and #2 are small hanging pieces of 2 panels each, and 'Introspection Table' has an inlaid Chaos Drawing using 3 panels of glass); however, I am now doubtful that this will work. What I want to somehow emphasize with these pieces is an evident process--to this end, I plan to write the 'rules of artistic engagement' directly on the surfaces, as I used to do with my grid drawings on paper. I feel that displaying these rules within the boundary of the object itself will inspire greater curiosity and consideration of the process.

I want the process not only to be evident, but also take place during the creation of these new pieces; they would be dead if finished before begun, and also a lie. Then again, they are the result of a process that was begun long ago; each image is inspired by a group of drawings, made anytime in the last five years. Using these drawings as muses, I would like to revisit and refine the thought from which they arose. So really, these new images are a refinement of what is already there, and a deeper exploration of past works; they are living because they are an active engagement with the process rather than a mechanical deconstruction. One layer of resin is probably enough, just to seal them.

I will write about "Glass Chaos Drawings" soon, and further explain why the layering that worked with them will not work with this new series.

An Attempt at Translation

This painting, titiled "Probability", is an attempt to bring Grid Drawings to life on a larger scale. The surface of this painting is 4' by 4', and done with both acrylic and casein paints. The 'rules of engagement' for the composition are written on the back of the painting.

However, the rules for this particular piece are incomplete, due to a mistake made during the mapping of the grid which led to a mistake in the points that was difficult to dictate. The process of dealing with these mistakes and reconciling them with the final product was something that I was perhaps too distracted by to deal with on a rational basis. Because of this, there is a terse reference to a "fuck-up", and the written rules end there.

The experience taught me that there is a big difference between approaching a piece of paper and approaching an object that has already been an investment of time and money. The importance of the mindset...

Orientation

Grids, straight lines, navigation points, orientation...

The process of creating artwork is frought with micro-decisions; many of which barely warrant a conscious effort. Experience and education in art only make those decisions more automatic and less remarkable. Grid Drawings attempt to express themselves through process; and they do this by incorporating text that provides a blueprint for their creation. Where lines begin, how they interact with the framework of the grid, how they move and perhaps multiply or come to an end, where and how they are punctuated with color; all of these considerations are noted. Given the many possible variables, and knowing that the artist is the ultimate decision maker, there must be constant vigilance, discipline, and revision when necessary.

I began to make these grid drawings in 2003; this one was made in 2004.

The Studio

To begin, a view of my studio. I work in an old warehouse in Troy; it is rustic, but more importantly, it is very large, with large doors and long walls. After declining to attend graduate school this year, I am revisiting some unfinished works and beginning a new series. In the blogs to come, I will document my process in producing these new pieces, and air some of my thoughts on the work as it unfolds.