There is a lot of art out there. As a part-time artist, the question begs to be asked: How can one stand out? Additionally, how can one know that the pursuit of artistic creation is worthy of one's time, when there are so many other conversations happening out there? Practical considerations aside, how can one know that the work they have produced is a valuable contribution to the "artistic community", as it were? It certainly can be daunting to think about, especially if one secretly harbors a desire for the level of fame or notoriety of a Picasso or a Klimt, yet knows the chances of such reach are very slim indeed, particularly in the modern era of booming population and near ubiquitous access to the internet.
I'm not trying to be pessimistic here, just philosophical (despite my sore lack of philosophical training, but I'm okay with that). If all the famous art has already been painted, and anyone can produce and distribute art, then why should I bother? What should drive me to want to create art? How can I successfully stand out and command a following? I suspect I'll be working on formulating an answer to these questions for a long while, but the best I can come up with at the current moment is: Because I am me. It's true that my paintings must be at least somewhat good or else I wouldn't have a leg to stand on (and I finally know this is true because people who do not know me have sought out my art), but I think a bigger driver of my artistic appeal is indeed who I am, whether as Ladydean or as myself (and it's true that there is not much of a difference between the two).
I'm starting to recognize that part of the reason people want my art or want to see what I'm doing is because it's me doing it. That may sound egotistical, and that's okay. It may be part of the reason why a painting I create stands out from a pretty, mass-produced picture on sale at the big store retailer in town. The painting in the store may be aesthetically appealing (and may in fact be a reproduction of a work by a famous artist), but it probably lacks soul, and the person who buys it will eventually become aware of this. I've noticed that at some point, people being people, buyers of art want to acquire a piece because of its human element and will thus seek out local or regional (or national or international, depending on one's budget) works and be willing to pay for what it represents, in addition to whatever visual or symbolic appeal it holds for them. The art must reflect some human element at that point.
I often think about life in anthropological terms, and one of the constant questions turning over in the back of my mind is: What is uniquely human? Tool making has been considered by many anthropologists, and challenged by many zoologists (or whatever), so we won't count that. I personally think the answer to this question is: To be aware of the past; to contemplate the future; to assign meaning to things, concepts, and experiences; to communicate via the use of symbols; to create and love art; and to be aware of our own mortality. Art is on that list as uniquely human and so I do not see the creation of art as superfluous or pointless; it is a fundamental human need to both create and consume art, rationality be damned. We may not know why we like a certain painting, why a certain sculpture pisses us off, why we have to have it, why we'll pay anything to get it; the fact that we must have it is all the justification needed to support the idea that art is humanity.
My challenge as an artist and contemplator of humanity is to find out how best to tap that reaction in my audience; how to create a piece of art that grabs, pulls, evokes, and satisfies; how to move the viewers so that they'll seek out my work and remember it; how to stand out in the crowd of artistic noise by dint of my effort to just be myself and, in the process, arouse a feeling...
Or is it all bullshit?
I use this blog to share recent work that may not be posted to my website yet (www.ladydean.com), as well as information about upcoming art events, works-in-progress, and artistic musings.
Showing posts with label Bitch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bitch. Show all posts
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Friday, December 6, 2013
An honest woman's been made of her...
Bitch with Fish Hands and Dreadlocks has been on loan every since George passed away. We finally made things legit after another potential buyer expressed interest in the piece. She's got a good home. (Where does Art live?)
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Bitch signed!
Prior to delivering her to the buyer, I had to add my signature to Bitch with a Wine Glass, which did cause a certain amount of anxiety as I had not touched the canvas with paint in several years. I don't even own the original colors anymore! I painted her in Liquitex and have since shifted almost entirely to Golden colors; I think my prussian blue hue tube is still a Liquitex paint, but nothing else remains of her color palate.
I do think that naphthol red medium worked as a near complete match for the signature. I love how it sits on the dark blues and blacks of the lower right-hand corner.
I do think that naphthol red medium worked as a near complete match for the signature. I love how it sits on the dark blues and blacks of the lower right-hand corner.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Signature Piece... SOLD!!!!!!
I've sold Bitch with a Wine Glass. I almost cannot believe it. Time to paint some more nudes on canvas board, me thinks...
I was unable to sell this painting for many years because it served as such a source of inspiration to me. I've finally been ready for her to have a new home for the past year and my feelings as I sell it today confirm that this is indeed the right thing. I'm so excited!
This photo is of George giving critique before I finally solved the conundrums of the upper right quadrant!
Labels:
acrylic,
artistic musings,
Bitch,
George,
ladydean,
nudes,
paintings,
self-portrait,
sold
Friday, November 25, 2011
Art Rant Time!! (Selling "Art"...)
It's art rant time! This rant is about a few art-related topics, mostly centered on how art reaches the consumer. Sub-topics will be: markets, pricing, accessibility, and what I like to call the "don't touch, bitch!" factor (or, to put it more eloquently, interactibility).
A fundamental question for an artist to ask him or herself is, "Am I doing this for the sake of money and success? Or for the sake of art itself?" Many claim that if you are not doing art for the sake of art (i.e., "fuck money and success; don't be a sellout"), then you are doing art for the wrong reason. However if you can't sell your work, then how can you call what you are doing anything other than a hobby (plenty of inputs - i.e., costs of materials - and no return on outputs)? I happen to think that all artists should have some business awareness of their markets and that all artists should want their work to be in the hands of someone else, not stuffed in the back of their own closet(s). The mark of an artist does not have to be that s/he is starving! This means, to me, that if you are only concerned about art for art's sake, then your rationale is misguided; in that case, become an art curator and leave the creativity to those who do want to make money.
That having been said, there is the position of the buyer of art to consider. Not all people who appreciate art or who long to own a painting or sculpture have deep pockets. One of the side tennants of "at the end of the day, you should be doing art for art's sake" is "don't undervalue your work." Well... again, if your art is in the back of your closet and not on someone else's walls, how can you call yourself a success? As it turns out, markets fluctuate. And sticking hard and fast to one range of pricing values is silly to me (especially in "this economy"). If you can't move your inventory, why make more inventory? The way I see it, an artist should respond to the mechanics of supply and demand, but not in the manner of reducing production when demand slows so that prices can remain high (because, let's face it, a true artist has urges that cannot be ignored and thus s/he must continue to produce). By "respond to the mechanics of supply and demand" I do in fact mean lower your prices so that you start seeing sales. [And if you don't see sales? Well, then there's probably a problem with your art... either it sucks, or your available audience just can't relate. In that case, seek out another artist for continual art critique or move to a place where your art will be appreciated and purchased.] Also related to this point is the point about entering the market. There is a difference between an established artist who can continue to command high prices and an artist who is just starting out. One theory goes that the new artist will forever condemn him or herself to a given price range if they start out low. I argue that a new artist is like a new employee at a corporation; expect low wages until you actually gain some experience and you get better at your craft!! What true artist is not better at his or her own art five years down the road from today? Shouldn't you expect that the price a buyer is willing to pay for one of your coveted pieces would go up over time, relative to yourself? For that reason, it seems silly to me to price my paintings at triple the price my experience should reasonably allow for. After all, I'm still learning.
To now take the previous argument one step further, let us consider the buyer again. I myself have only ever purchased five pieces of art (2 paintings for myself, 3 sculptures as gifts). This is mostly because I use my walls as a temporary gallery space for my unsold and in-progress work, but it's also because... I can't really afford to buy art. There are two paintings that I hope to own someday, but until I have $1,500 just laying around to buy them, this will be just a dream. I don't have a problem with this because I do plan to eventually acquire them (that is the point of art, after all... the irresistible and often inexplicable draw to a piece of work, no matter the price), but it does bother me that I cannot access them now. And I know that others (including people who want to own a genuine Ladydean) can certainly not afford this type of luxury. Seeing as how I do not want to leave lower income people out of the world of art (beyond viewing art hanging in cafés and going to museum and gallery exhibits), I honestly do not see a problem with low-balling my work, at least not while I'm still gathering my legs. I.e., as long as I'm still new to the market, why not cover the lower-priced section of the market and offer discount art? After all, as George used to say, "Tara, it's worth $0.00 until someone actually buys it." The caveat here is that the person buying it had better truly desire the art and should demonstrate a willingness to haggle, or else it's not worth the artist's time (the painting might wind up in the trash!!). The buyer must feel a sense of value in the purchase or else "art" loses it's status. I guess what I'm saying is, the artist should set a price that is within reach, but not so low as to remove all the value from the art... for art's sake.
The final sub-rant of this post will deal with the interactibility of art. What do I mean by this? Well, to go back to George's comment about art being worth zero dollars until it has actually entered the market in the form of a sale, until it has been sold it's still technically a work in progress. It's nothing. It's shit. It's malleable. It's up for interpretation. But most importantly... it's profane. I use this term in the sense of an antipode of sacred. Art is not godlike; art is human. Art is corruptible, subjective, fluid, an idealized reflection of the everyday. It sits at the table with us in various forms. It's communal. Even though we place it up on a pedestal in the gallery world and even though some art commands millions of dollars, all art is still just a thing, just an object and it can catch fire just as easily as your paper cup or your trash can. I once learned from Terry Schmidt that a good drawing practice is to draw on the back side of the sketch you just did, even if you think it was the best sketch you've ever done. Why? To take the sacredness out of it. To disconnect from your own specialness as an artist in the process. I think she meant: to humble yourself. To acknowledge that you are not the best and that there is always room for improvement. It is for these reasons that I detest not being able to touch art in a gallery. Not only is some art textural (i.e., meant to be touched), but sometimes you just want to. The art draws you in, commands you to feel it. And yet some people freak out if you do! "Don't touch, bitch!" Art is meant to be interacted with... Yes, there is a risk that you might break it (for that, you should always know how much touching it might cost you; you break it, you buy it, right?), but that is a risk I have always been willing to take at art festivals, where people don't much care if you touch the art. Being able to touch a piece of art (texture on a painting, the smoothness of a bowl) puts it more in tune with the audience; brings it back down to earth from the lofty place in the clouds to which we launch it when we put too high of a price on it; when we overvalue it. Think of it this way: If I buy a $600.00 painting and take it home and jump on it, light it on fire, throw water on it to put out the fire, and then take a shit on it... it's all within my rights to do so because I own it, correct? Now, I hope I never do that to a painting, but I could if I wanted to. (I will admit that I have destroyed my own art, although not in that violent or disgusting of a manner.) The point is, why should we treat art as sacred prior to the business transaction? This interpretation stands in stark contrast to George's proclamation that all art has no value until the final dollar amount has been placed on it through the act of buying the piece. How can it be that we as a society treat unsold art as exactly the opposite of what it is? An unsold Picasso is technically no different than your child's crayon drawing on the fridge, no? Of course I am using hyperbole here [did I use that word right??] for dramatic effect, but I am being serious at the same time. The difference is the value we place on the artist her or himself and if an artist has stratospheric talent (like Picasso), then of course we are going to regard all production by that artist as sacred and not profane. But is that correct, philosophically speaking? If not, then it should be perfectly okay to erase a De Kooning... ;)
In conclusion, I am basically trying to say that, from both an economical and an artistic perspective, it is okay to price your work lower than everyone says you should, at least during the time you are attempting to establish yourself as an artist and especially if you deal in direct sales to the client! After all, you do want to get your work and your name out there, don't you? In that case, don't let your art gather dust in the closet; SELL IT AT THE PRICE YOUR MARKET IS CURRENTLY WILLING TO BEAR!!
The photo you see here is a canvas test piece with layering. The first and second layer are white gesso, the third layer is Quinacridone Violet, and the final layer is Naples Yellow Hue. The effect turns me on!!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Frame... Work in Progress!
Here's the frame with two coats of ebony stain on it and two coats of shellac. I have since put a third coat of shellac and wow does it look good! Time to seal her in the frame and post an updated pic to the blog!
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Discussion about Business Cards
This is my current business card. Apparently it looks too "I just graduated from art school" -eske, which is funny because I never went to art school. (I did take Drawing I my first semester of college back in 1997, though.)
I am wanting to slightly update the content (my blog URL doesn't appear, for example!) and maybe have two or three options for cards. I'm think about using this image, this image, and maybe this image. Thoughts??? I would have to re-photograph the first two images, but the last one is professionally done and ready to go.
Bitch Gets a Frame!!
Bitch needs a frame... I painted her in three hours back in June of 2007 at the behest of George, who wanted me to paint and not stop to "fix" things. She's painted in enamel (motorcycle decal paint) on a piece of luan plywood that is four feet by four feet and part of the luan has splintered in the back, so she is getting a permanent home (maple frame she will be permanently set into) to save her structural integrity. I'm staining the frame ebony right now... gawd I hate the waiting between coats. I have zero patience for these types of things!
The title of this piece is Bitch with Fish Hands and Dreadlocks.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Bitch with a Wineglass

It has come to my attention that my seminal piece is not on this blog! Hence I present to you: Bitch with a Wineglass. She's on all my business cards (which I need to print more of, come to think of it...).
Now let me explain to you why the term "bitch" comes into play. Yes, this goes back to George. Years ago, I posed for a sculpture that George was working on. I was the second model to sit for that piece (which he did not finish before he died). He eternally referred to her as "the bitch," "the roommate," and other such things. She was something he just could not finish and for quite the while this painting you see here was something that I just could not finish. While his bitch never made it to bronze, mine did finally get her frame. I'm glad I perservered and finished her instead of throwing my hands up in frustration and then dumping her in the trash (although she did spend a year banished in a closet).
18 x 24 acrylic on panel canvas applied with brush.
Photo by Steve Lundberg.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Autoretrato
I drew this sketch of myself while looking through a makeup compact mirror in a basement dive bar in Manhattan (can you guess which bar I'm referring to?) this weekend. It's hideously fabulous. Don't worry, I don't look like this, nor do I think I do. Ah, arte... I hope to transform this into a painting, or let it inspire a painting.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
George

So here's a picture of George, doing his thing in the foundry. He loved sculpture for the process, not the end result. I never appreciated the work that goes into creating a bronze piece until I began watching him at each step of the way. Sundays were when we spent most of our time together. In the years up until his death this summer, we would spend hours in the afternoon, barely talking and focusing on art, all while listening to NPR or a Puccini CD. There he was with his constantly lit cigarrette, hammering bronze, creating wax tubing, yelling at the clay, or watching me paint.
Here's a photo of him leaning over the crucible, heated to around 2000 degrees Fahrenheit.
But don't think we didn't talk. We usually got plenty of jabbering out of the way over coffee, before deciding to not let the afternoon go to waste.
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