Candis

Candis Wheat, "Untitled", pastel on paper, 18 by 13 inches.

I'm posting this to celebrate my long time and great friend, Candis Wheat. I've always thought this piece, a gift from her years ago, could be a self portrait, although it doesn't objectively look like her.

Candis produced drawings like chickens lay eggs, if those eggs were of the Fabergé variety. She would use cast off bits of paper, check stubs, receipts, shipping tags, torn corners of notebook paper, notepads, whatever was around, and with a pen, pencil, colored pencils, pastels, again whatever was around, create exquisite, beautifully expressive drawings full of humanity and empathy, with a direct connection to the soul. Her observations on the human condition and everyday life were witty and full of truth.

Candis was one of the best friends I have ever had. Outgoing and charmingly self-effacing she was nevertheless sometimes inclined toward what our mutual friend Greg Metz accurately called "hermetic" periods. Once I was selfishly frustrated by one of her prolonged cocoonings. Trying to explain her importance to me, and knowing her deep well of pop culture trivia expertise, I quoted the western "Tombstone" to her. I recalled the line of dialogue delivered by a member of Wyatt Earp's posse. Asked why he was pursuing outlaws instead of resting in bed, an ill Doc Holliday replied, "Because Wyatt Earp is my friend."
The cowboy said derisively, "Hell, I've got a lot of friends."
Doc Holliday said, "I don't."

I do have a lot of friends, but I haven't had many like Candis. She had more friends and admirers than she could count and more than she may have realized. I was just one of many. I could talk to her about anything and, probably more often than she would have liked, I did. She was mysterious, kind, patient, compassionate, witty, brilliant and talented. She was an undiscovered genius. But I'm not sure she wanted to be "discovered" by the wider world anyway.

Candis left us Friday morning, November 9, after an illness, and under the doting care of her longtime companion, Harrison. She'll be missed by everyone who ever met, knew or loved her.

(This drawing was kindly lent for posting by Nicke Mitchell.)

Favorite paintings*

In 1984-ish, I was visiting the University of North Texas campus in Denton, Texas. I was upstairs in an atrium, where the art department's gallery walls were visible below. This painting dominated everything in the room, and got my attention right away. I asked my escort about it, and if the artist would be interested in selling it. He said he would find out. Later he called me with a price, which I agreed to, the artist, somewhat surprised I think, delivered to my apartment and I've had it ever since.

Bruce Schiefelbein was the artist. He was in a Masters program and later told me that the piece was the source of some...well not controversy really, but some talk during the exhibition. At six by four feet, it certainly has considerable presence and asserts itself in any environment. I've always liked what I thought looked like the mashup of Picasso, De Kooning and Ub Iwerks and yet was none of them and entirely Bruce.

In the ensuing years Bruce has continued to paint with considerable gusto. We acquired another of his paintings, "Nandi Bear", pictured below, a couple of years ago, and a work on paper I don't presently have a photo of. We're happy to have all of them and to be friends with Bruce and his charming wife Nancy.





*That I also happen to own.

Bosch in the round.

This past weekend we attended a holiday party at some friends' house. The lady of the house, artist Rosemary Meza, had a collection of toys and resin figurines, which were three dimensional interpretations of images from famous paintings. I found out where she got these figures and checked out the web site.

Among the most interesting figurines were those taken from Hieronymus Bosch's "The Garden of Earthly Delights" and "The Temptation of Saint Anthony". I also thought it was interesting that the subjects chosen were among the more horrific images in those paintings, the monsters and demons wreaking their own Boschian havoc on sinners and malcontents deemed unworthy of Paradise.

I found one of my favorite images from Bosch's work recast as a figurine and will one day get one of my very own. Of course it ended up being one of the more expensive pieces.

It's the "Tree Man", which always looked like an eggshell to me. In any case it's from the "Hell" side of "The Garden of Earthly Delights".


There was also a series of pieces based on Salvador Dali images. Dali was probably my favorite artist, followed by Bosch and M.C. Escher (who is represented by 3D versions of his "Tessellations" series), from my college days. One of the Dali pieces is from "Geopolitius Child Watching The Birth Of The New Man", which back then hung in poster form on my bedroom wall.
I think it's interesting that while the Dali pieces are from some of his most famous paintings, his signature image, the melting watches from "Persistence of Memory" aren't among them.



Anyway, these objects and others can be found at Museumize.com.

Favorite paintings*

Lee Baxter Davis, "The Essentials of Love", 18 by 22 inches, ink and watercolor on paper.

For over thirty years Lee Baxter Davis was a professor (he's now retired) at my alma mater, East Texas State University (now Texas A&M Commerce). I actually had him as a teacher in a woodcut class. We had a pretty rocky teacher-student relationship since his was one of the last classes I was taking before graduation, and I never understood why such a class was on my degree plan, since woodcuts were the last thing to possibly interest me or to have any relevance to the direction I was going. Lee, of course, thought it was the most important class ever. It was at seven-thirty in the morning, plus I was going through some weird personal stuff, never mind the stress of trying to get out of school once and for all, so conflict was, I suppose, inevitable. Lee also had a dim view of communication arts, which was my major, so that only added to the tension.

That said, I always admired his work, and years after I was out of school as a student I returned to the University for one of their Christmas art sales. This painting, an ink and watercolor piece, was available, so I snapped it up. While it's not as wild as much of his imagery, I liked everything about it, including the "love" references. I was newly in love at that time, so it seemed to find a place in my interests.

Lee was a very successful teacher, my issues notwithstanding, influencing many disparate artists working today, including Gary Panter, the renegade punk cartoonist who is best known for his many published sketchbooks outlining life as he sees it, as well as his art direction and design for "PeeWee's Playhouse", probably the best avant garde performance art concept turned popular children's show ever made. Greg Metz, a powerful political artist who also teaches at the University of Texas at Dallas, was another of Lee's students. So was Whitney Biennial artist Trenton Doyle Hancock.

Lee's work is included in the Dallas Museum of Art and Houston's Contemporary Art Museum. He was represented in New York by the Clementine Gallery until recently. He is now living in Greenville, Texas, and, I imagine, continuing to happily explore his singular vision. I'm happy we have this painting to enjoy.

More of Lee Baxter Davis' work can be found at his website, www.leebaxterdavis.com.


*Which I also happen to own.

Favorite paintings

Again, this is a case of this being more about a favorite painter than a single painting. Robert Cottingham came to attention as one of the 1970s Photorealists, a movement that made the photographic source of the image as important as the subject being depicted. The emphasis on technology to aid in making a work of art placed Photorealism in the middle of the Modernist camp, although it related more to Pop than to any of the abstract movements like Abstract Expressionism or Minimalism.
Robert Cottingham's paintings of storefront signs and neon associated with the old and unfortunately often decaying areas of large cities' business districts are innovations on the subject of landscape in the same way Warhol's soup cans and Brillo boxes gave a contemporary spin on the traditional still life. Their sharp and hard edges are appropriate for the subjects, man-made milestones realized by mechanical means.
Recently he has made paintings of typewriters and simplified pieces of machinery, taking his view point from big and up to small and within arm's reach.




All images, I'm quite certain, ©Robert Cottingham.

Favorite paintings

John Fincher is a Santa Fe based painter whose work I've admired for twenty-plus years. His textures and paint handling can only be seen "in person" to be fully appreciated.
His subject matter ranges from expansive landscapes, such as "Los Ojos", oil, 48 by 36 inches, to intimate objects like shaving brushes, "Arch Brush No. 5", oil, 10 by 8 inches.




A series based on branches shows a more minimalist, abstract approach to natural world objects.



All images ©John Fincher

Favorite paintings

Sometimes it's not so much a "favorite painting" as it is a favorite artist. Or at least an artist that has been a favorite. That's the case with Frank Frazetta, who died last week. This is one of my favorites of Frazetta's paintings, but hardly the only one. Like the work of Salvador Dali, my enthusiasm for Frazetta's has dampened with time. That doesn't mean I don't respect his work, though, nor does it mean I deny the impact his paintings had on my development as an artist.

As a kid I was engrossed in comic books, during the period that "fanboys" call the Silver Age. Among other things, they showed me that one could make pictures for a living. I originally thought I would only need to concentrate on pen and ink, the medium of comics (this is an example of a very juvenile brain at work at that time) so I had no interest in painting. My mom had been trying to interest me in taking oil painting lessons from a sweet, late middle-aged lady in our small hometown. I resisted for a long time, until I discovered "Creepy" and "Eerie" magazines, as well as fantasy paperbacks, with their amazing painted cover illustrations. My tiny geek mind was turned around, as I saw the need for paintings skills as well as pen and ink. I started taking the classes. I painted the usual prerequisites of floral and fruit still lifes, copies of barn-speckled landscapes and the occasional conquistador. When Ms. Prince, the teacher, decided I was sufficiently competent with those subjects I could find subject matter I wanted. And away we went.

With the images of Frazetta and Jeff Jones dancing in my head I pumped out canvas after canvas populated with monsters, werewolves, ghosts, haunted castles silhouetted against full moons, all to my teacher's and mom's mixed reactions of horror and amusement. At least it opened my fairly closed mind to other possibilities, something for which I thank Frank Frazetta.

Oh, and here's another favorite.

Favorite paintings

I first saw the work of contemporary artist Richard Thompson in the mid-eighties, when he lived in Austin (he now lives in upstate New York). I actually saw the work in a regional art magazine called Artspace. I was immediately drawn to his color, his drawing style and his themes and subject matter.
I've seen his work "in person" is some surprising locations. A print of a fish can be found in a upstairs dining area in the Dallas World Aquarium. A large painting and another print adorn the walls of Blue Mesa restaurant, also in Dallas. A friend has a small painting of an apple, which is very beautiful and causes waves of envy within my innards every time I see it. Of course his paintings are in private and public collections, but those are the ones I've actually visited first hand.
This example is a small study for a larger painting. His work has taken a direction toward more abstract use of imagery, less "literal", but this piece represents the qualities I'm most attracted to in his pictures.
More can be found at his website.



Here's an example of his more recent work. I visited an exhibition of his work at a local gallery and it's growing on me. Love those contrails.

Both images © Richard Thompson.

Favorite paintings

Grant Wood is best known by the public at large for "American Gothic", but I've always been more drawn to his Iowa landscapes, particularly "Fall Plowing", from 1931. His sly wit, which is more obvious in "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere", "Parson Weems' Fable", "The Birthplace of Herbert Hoover" and "Daughters of Revolution" (the only "satirical" painting he is said to claim as such) has often been off-putting to the more "serious" art world. But it will surprise nobody who knows me that I find that to be one of his pictures' most appealing qualities.
"Fall Plowing" may appear at first to be a romanticized version of the American pastoral ideal. Anyone who has actually spent time plowing a field, even when pulled by a tractor instead of by oxen, knows this subject is very romanticized. I don't think romance is Wood's driving force here, though, instead I think he's acknowledging what hard work such an endeavor would be, and is ridiculing any attempt to make it out to be any kind of worker's paradise.
I've read that Wood's composition and pattern was inspired by quilt designs. I think that's pretty valid, and would add even more of its "Americana" sensibility even as it undermines that sensibility.

Favorite paintings

My friend and fellow artist Steve Pietzsch posted this Vermeer painting, "The Milkmaid", aka "The Kitchen Maid" on his Facebook page today. It reminded me of how much I've always been drawn to Vermeer's work. The sideways angle of the light is something I find myself emulating (but obviously failing to achieve at this level), often subconsciously.

"Young Woman with a Jug"

"Woman Reading a Letter"

"The Lacemaker", probably my favorite of any Vermeer painting.

Dallas Arts Revue Member Show

Here are some photos from the opening of the "Dallas Arts Revue 30th Anniversary Member Show", as well as the companion exhibition "Back Room Invitational". It's at the Bath House Cultural Center, Dallas, Tx, through January 30, 2010.
"Caligula" and "Augustus" were included in the show. I wore my black hat and in these pictures one of my more forced smiles.
I've labeled some of the images with the artist's name, if I knew it. I'll add more labels as I figure whose work is whose.

"Caligula" and me

"Augustus" and me





Kathy Boortz

Rebecca Boatman

Diana Chase

Laura Abrams





David Hickman

Jerry Dodd

Favorite paintings

One of my favorite contemporary painters is Wolf Kahn. Through his landscapes he walks, or I guess paints, the line between abstraction and representation. His color is a major inspiration to me.

Favorite paintings

I've always loved Paul Klee's "Twittering Machine". The line quality and the apparently random grunge that stumbles across the surface are elements I've, er, appropriated for my "Neo-Retro" pieces, although I won't make a claim to being as successful as Klee in how they're used. But it's the absurdity of the image, with its crank waiting to set off the completely pointless function of this rickety device, that makes it a favorite.

All of Klee's work appeals to me, but a sentimental favorite is "Sinbad the Sailor". It's the first Paul Klee image I ever encountered, when I was still in high school. I immediately was, and still am, drawn to the checkered pattern against the segmented sailor and his incredible fish adversaries.


And speaking of fish, for me the ultimate Klee painting is "Fish Magic". Again the line quality is amazing; the colors appear to be buried by the dark background, with the figures etched out of it, set free from the gloom to glow like creatures at the bottom of the ocean.

Favorite paintings

Every couple of weeks or so (probably) I'm going to post and comment on a favorite painting.
This one is "Madonna with the Long Neck", by Parmigianino, painted in 1535. It's in the "Mannerist" style, which took the Renaissance lessons of perspective, depth and proportion and twisted them, creating a strange and surreal world full of undulating shapes and distortions of scale.
I love the serpentine "Madonna" holding the too-large baby, the too-small figure in the background, and the column that resembles a modern industrial smokestack more than any similar object contemporary with either the Biblical era or the Italian Renaissance.
Parmigianino also throws away the carefully structured symmetry that had come to define that period. He and the other Mannerists were bellwethers of the attitudes and practices of Modernism, 400 years in the future.