Wishful thinking...

Bailey Harberg, Spring, 2013. Watercolor, gouache and pen and ink on paper, 5 1/2 x 7 1/2 in. 

This spring Denver has been a real bummer; we've had pretty ridiculous snowstorms every week since the beginning of April and I am ready to see some spring color out there! This morning I decided to put my frustration to paper. This was originally inspired by a watercolor painting by 19-20th-century Scottish artist/designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh who was a prominent figure in the Arts and Crafts movement and kind of the face of Art Nouveau in the UK. I love the quirky, organic feeling of his flower watercolors (probably because I'm a huge fan of Art Nouveau) and the fact that he leaves some areas unfinished. Definitely someone to keep in my inspiration boards...

Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Spurge, 1909. Watercolor and ink on paper. 

Pigeon 

Bailey Harberg, Street Species, 2013. Gouache and watercolor on paper, 24 x 18 in.

I had a lot of people asking me "Why are you drawing a pigeon?" when I started this. My response was, "Why not?" In my opinion, one of art's most important roles in society is to make people happy, and every time I look at this it makes me smile. After I finished it, as a trained art historian I realized that it probably has all sorts of other twenty-first century environmental and societal implications and that's all fine and good; I probably wouldn't disagree with any of those readings. What this really came down to for me was irony, flipping people's expectations about art upside down, and fun. The idea of glorifying such an everyday, mundane bird that no one normally looks twice at also appealed to me.  Still, I'm mainly putting this out into the world this morning because I want people to look at it and smirk because this little guy is pretty cute. 

Livin' life on the edge...

I got some great new watercolor paper that seemed like it was just blankly staring at me for awhile before I finally got up the courage to do something with it (click on the images below to enlarge) More on creative fears later...

Bailey Harberg, Life on the Edge, 2012. Acrylic and ink on paper, 30 x 22 1/4 in.

   

Life on the Edge detail

 

Life on the Edge detail

Experiments

Well I just couldn't get Clyfford's watercolors out of my mind....so I woke up a couple weeks ago and made a trip to the local Hobby Lobby to update my art supplies and get some watercolor paper.

Bailey Harberg, Untitled (Abstract 2.12), 2012. Watercolor and oil pastel on paper.

     Let me just tell you that watercolor abstractions are harder than they look. Its pretty difficult not to end up with a big pile of muddiness in front of you; I've learned the trick is to make sure the paper is wet before and take your time. Let some colors dry before adding more. Playing with more than one medium is good too; it adds depth and makes it way more interesting. This one has some oil pastels mixed in. 

Still and the cosmos

Watercolor by Clyfford Still. (c) Clyfford Still Estate

Working at the newly opened Clyfford Still Museum has really had a profound effect on my understanding of the impact artists really can have on people, communities, and their understanding of life itself.  Right now we are inventorying all of Clyfford Still's works on paper; 95% of which have never been seen by the public.  Through the process I have realized just how intimate works on paper are. I feel as though I am truly getting to know Clyfford Still through his sketches, handwritten inscriptions, and stray marks. 


I found the watercolors posted here in a small photo album with other 2 x 4" / 3 x 5" scraps of paper. I found them incredibly beautiful in their simplicity and surprisingly powerful for such small works. The colors seem to hover on top of the paper and vibrate with an otherworldly sense of movement.

Mr. Still hoped that his works would connect his viewers with a sense of life and death and the infinite universe encompassing all things. These small works are so successful in that, that I almost feel outside of myself when exploring their quiet mystery. Its amazing how such genius can be found in a few dabs of color.

Watercolor by Clyfford Still. (c) Clyfford Still Estate

Let the nonsense begin

So I've never done this before; so I don't really know what this is or will be, but for now I think I'll just write about what I want to.  If you haven't guessed from the blog title or description, I'm kind of a big Picasso person. I thought that using a quote from one of his poems written on my birthday in 1940 might be a good source of inspiration to get me going. Thus, in true Picasso fashion, I will most likely be writing in a sort of stream of consciousness manner reminiscent of the Surrealists; though I'm sure this will be a little more transparent/comprehendible as I am going writing about real life, real things, realness that has effected, or even affected, my life as it is at this moment in time, 2011. To start, an introduction might be in order to help this whole thing make a little more sense to me, at least.  I just graduated a masters program in Art History and am currently working in Collections at a gallery and in Research at a upcoming, exciting new museum. BUT I am also a wannabe artist, aspiring painter, and lover of all things visual. Maybe, eventually, this thing will turn into more of a record of my art making ventures, but for now, its only for me to write about things I like to write about. Funny how in grad school I couldn't wait to stop writing. Writing about art, about people's opinions on art, thoughts about those who make art, etc, etc, etc. Though since I've been done writing, I've found I miss it, which is exceptionally strange to me. Anyways, here I am writing about art again.

I think what inspired me to start this thing, which I'm still not sure is right for me, as it is public and open for "anyone with a google account" to read and comment upon, is my current situation as a floundering yet passionate graduate in seriously competitive art world, not sure if where I am and what I'm doing is where I should be and what I should be doing. To counteract all this uncertainty, I needed something I was sure about doing and sure about loving. So there you go. I'm absolutely sure that I love Picasso and his ideas and his philosophy (or lack there of) and his impact in the 20th century. And I'm becoming more sure that I love to write about these things and share them with those who might be, could be interested if only to spark some sort of passion in their own world as it has in mine. Granted, I won't only be talking about Picasso. Because like all artists, he was Picasso because of those who came before him and because of those who he surrounded himself with and because of those whose works he absorbed. So I am open to see where this goes, even if it goes in unexpected directions. I apologize ahead of time to anyone who might glance at this and be completely bored out of their minds and want to gouge their eyes out or suddenly feel as though they could fall asleep immediately. I've seen that happen and I'm ok with it. Just don't bring others down with you.

The photo above was taken by Dora Maar, Picasso's infamously emotional mistress who also was a talented photographer/painter. In my thesis I wrote about how Maar switched the pair's power relationship with this one photo, which completely threw Picasso for a loop.  But every time I see this photograph, I can't help but be taken aback by  how powerful Picasso's gaze remains, even under the harsh light and distorting shadows. I almost feel that he is burning holes through the camera, through Maar, and right into me.  And for some reason, I'm reminded of his famous line, "art is a lie that helps us realize the truth." Even though this photograph was achieved through a process inherently associated with truth, it is an artificial construction (sepia tones, cropping, etc). But at the same time, I've never felt more confronted by Truth as a I feel when I look at this photograph. It steadies me, grounds me, and forces me to come to terms with my place right NOW...in reality.  Maybe I'm crazy, but if anyone else feels similarly relieved/stable by staring at this photograph then this was worth it.