“Ok to Burn” – John Fitzsimmons

On the afternoon of October 25, 2003, a hunter in the Cleveland National Park became disoriented.  He lit a small fire to signal for help.  By the time that they announced the fire had been contained a week and a half later, almost 300,000 acres had burned, nearly 3000 buildings had been destroyed and fifteen people had lost their lives.  It was the largest fire in California history.

In 1970, John Fitzsimmons and Kat Flyn drifted to San Diego from New York City.  It was not part of any real plan, but John got a job as a teacher and Kat started the first vintage clothing store in that city.  The store was successful and John soon joined the business.  Some of the customers wanted to rent the vintage clothing rather than buy it.  The next thing you know, a small costume spin-off business was born, ultimately swallowing up the original business.  It was quite successful and thirty years later, they began planning their retirement.  They built their dream home just outside of San Diego, surrounded by towering pines, near the national forest, in the town of Cuyamaca.

As part of their business, Kat had designed some of the costumes and John had photographed some of the models.  It was artistic to a degree, but both dreamed of seriously pursuing art.  Kat, who was and is a talented assemblage artist, had taken boxes and boxes of materials from the business, storing them in the basement of their home.   A lifetime of artist supplies was assembled and ready to go.  Then, on October 27^th and 28^th, the fire reached Cuyamaca and all 120 homes in that community were incinerated.

Remarkably, both John and Kat not only physically survived the fire; emotionally, as well, they rose from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix.  John photographed the aftermath of the fire.  He took the photographs to a local gallery and had his first solo show.  It was a new beginning.

With no trees and no real prospect for trees, they decided not to rebuild in Cuyamaca.  Almost arbitrarily, they moved up to San Francisco.  They loved it right away.  Artistically, they moved to the SOMA Artist Studios, where they still maintain a studio, and they began making art.  Kat produces wonderful assemblages.  She also collaborates with John on his photography, making the trademark frames that work so well with his photographs of urban decay.

I have always been particularly drawn to that body of John’s work.  Last year, in the “Guerrilla Show” at Arc Gallery, I was ready to buy “Green Trailer, Salton Sea” when someone snatched it off the wall just in front of me.  I went to Open Studios in October hoping to find a similar work.  Then I noticed a photograph of three abandoned homes in Atascadero.  I had to have it.  The work, shown here in the banner for this story, was called “Ok to Burn”.  At that time, I did not know anything about their personal story.  It was only when I began writing this profile that the significance of the work become apparent.

John’s photography divides into two broad categories of work:  urban decay and fantasy.  The fantasy work has a staged element to it.  It is a touchstone back to the costume design business.  John cites contemporary influences such as Maggie Taylor and Jerry Uelsmann.  Overtly manipulated, the photographs are visual collages of imagery that explore themes of sex, bigotry, drugs, global warming.

The other works, which explore themes of urban decay, will be prominently on display next week in the Arc Gallery exhibition “FourSquared”, where John will be one of the sixteen featured artists.  These works have a political edge.  They revisit American glory, now left behind and rotting away.  Cars are abandoned and rusting.  Drive-in movie theaters are overgrown.  Houses are ok to burn.  Even the landscape itself is allowed to deteriorate from willful neglect in a series of works photographed in the Salton Sea.  The images are powerful, yet somewhat ambiguous; nostalgic, yet somehow bittersweet.  They evoke memories of the longing in Charles Foster Kane’s plantive last word: “Rosebud”.

You can see John Fitzsimmon’s work in the upcoming Arc Gallery exhibition: “FourSquared”, opening on Saturday, August 27^th and continuing through September 28^th.  He will be participating in San Francisco Fall Open Studios, the weekend of October 14^th.  You can also contact John directly for a studio visit by appointment.

Marks Left Behind – The Work of Camilla Newhagen

What is the nature of art?  That is, of course, the subject of endless debate and many books.  For me personally, what elevates some art is an element of exploration in the work that transcends or informs the object that is produced.

Growing up in a small, socialist enclave just outside of Copenhagen during the politically active 70′s, Camilla Newhagen was surrounded by intense intellectual discourse about the world around her.  The discussions were challenging and engaging.  She developed a heightened awareness of the world that was rooted in that experience.  Her formal education was in art and design at the Danish design school, Desingskolen Kolding.  So, it was a natural progression for her to combine her socially-engaged childhood with her art.  When she moved to America in the late 1990’s, she began exploring the stark differences between American culture and Danish culture.  Art was a vocabulary for that discussion.

I recently met for coffee with Camilla and we discussed the topic of cultural differences.  I spoke a lot about the differences between Japanese and American culture.  For Camilla, it was the somewhat more subtle, but still substantial differences between Danish and American culture.  And, more recently, it has been differences within those cultures in how men and women are perceived and how they interact.

After the meeting and in response to the lively discussion that we had, Camilla sent me some of the ideas and quotes that she was posting on the wall of her studio by way of helping her to formulate an artistic statement for an upcoming exhibition at Jack Fischer Gallery.

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards” – Kierkegaard

Much of Camilla’s work grapples with the idea of making sense of our world by examining the marks that are left behind as we pass through life.  There is this idea that memories are embedded in the objects that we have touched; physically manifested and preserved in these materials.  And, somehow, in ways that are not entirely clear, by utilizing the materials – found objects – in sculpture, those experiences are transmitted and become a part of the piece.

“Psychological scars interest me, taboo and the impact they have on our physical bodies”

Camilla had a studio in the Mission district of San Francisco.  It was an area of San Francisco that was frequented by a lot of prostitutes.  She was fascinated by the physical impact that this life had on its participants.  Aging was not uniform.  From the back, the bodies of many of the women remained attractive.  However, close up, the horrible impact on their faces could not be ignored.  Housed in the same building as her studio was a second-hand store.  Camilla would purchase second-hand women’s undergarments from the store; deconstruct the garments; and re-assemble them into soft sculptures.  The result was an exhibition: “What Women Want” which is more of a question than an answer.

“Identity crisis interest me, new beginnings and transformation”

Moving to America in 1998 after becoming newly married, Camilla started to explore what it was like to be a man vicariously through her observations of her husband.  Her starting point in many of her explorations is specific.  Her process is to study some something specific – in this case, her husband and her father – as a means of understanding something more universally – in this case, men.  The study of her husband resulted in a 2009 exhibition:  “My Husband”.  And, that study continues in a more generalized fashion in her current exhibition which features works re-constructed from recycled men’s suits and dress shirts.  She studies the burdens that men carry in their lives and the marks those burdens leave behind in their unofficial uniforms.

“Things unsaid”

I asked Camilla if she started her work with a specific idea in mind, or if she simply started sewing her pieces together and they took their own direction.  For her, it was both.  There is always an idea that she has in mind when she starts the piece, but she also allows the media itself to exert a measure of control.  The finished piece often continues to have a mind of its own.  Once finished, there is always the question of whether or not the piece is successful.  Does the piece have a voice?  What is it saying?  She will place the piece off in the corner of the room and stare at it for days.  And, interestingly the piece continues to evolve.  Reinterpretation often takes her in a unexpected and different direction.  The pieces do not speak but they have a voice.

Camilla Newhagen is currently studying in the MFA program at Mills College.  She recently exhibited one of her works, Dominatrix, in an exhibition at ARC Gallery in San Francisco:  “Dollhouse” – that was juried by Jack Fischer.  That work led to her upcoming exhibition at Jack Fischer Gallery: “Coupling” where she and John Hundt are the featured artists, that is opening this Saturday, March 12^th from 3-5pm.  You can see Camilla’s work in that exhibition through May 7^th.  You can also arrange to see Camilla’s work by appointment.

Play – The Art of Audrey Heller

Earlier this year, my gallery partners and I came up with a concept for a juried exhibition for the holiday season at ARC Gallery: “Dollhouse”. We were hoping for artistic visions that took the concept of dolls and dollhouses to unexpected places. One of my favorite works, selected by the juror, Jack Fischer of the eponymous downtown gallery, was a photograph by San Francisco artist, Audrey Heller entitled “Measure”. In the photograph, Audrey has created a fully realized world where two figures pass time waiting on rulers reminiscent of the rulers I used back in elementary school half a century ago. What is being measured? Is it the time that they are spending waiting? Is it the longer passage of time from the 50′s and 60′s until now? Is it something altogether different? Audrey creates a world that implies a story, and then allows us, the viewers, to fill in the text.

One of Audrey’s most prized possessions, as a child, was a miniature farm set complete with a barn, animals and people.  Her form of play was to carefully stage tableaux and leave them up for weeks.  It was not a surprise when, as a young adult, she went on to study theater, and more specifically set and lighting design, at UC Santa Cruz and Northwestern University.  Much of her work has a distinctly theatrical feel.

Recently I sat down with Audrey over a glass of wine and we browsed through her book, Overlooked Undertakings.  The images in this book are all staged with German miniatures.  Each seems like a snapshot of a scene in a play.  While Audrey does not supply the narrative, one distinctly has a sense of a pause in the action.  There is something that has happened leading up to this moment; and shortly one feels that the action will resume.  For me, it is that feeling of a pause that makes the work special.

One of the pieces that Audrey specifically chose to talk about was “Walkers”.  It is not an obvious choice.  It is a deceptively simple image: a small girl follows after a group of adults disappearing into the shadows.  However, because the image is ambiguous, the possibilities of a story are myriad.

I particularly enjoy some of the recurring characters.  A number of images feature scuba divers who seem to be constantly in search of open water.  In one work, a diver is poised over a small pot in a watercolor set.  In another, a diver searches for the ocean in a bag of goldfish crackers.  My personal favorite in this series is “Red Sea” where a pair of divers has climbed up a watermelon in search of the sea, only to be once again thwarted.  Her characters are underdogs.  They strive and they fall short.  But they persevere. Undeterred, they strive again and again.

Another series of works has figurines polishing and touching up roses.  It is hard, behind the scenes work that goes unnoticed and unappreciated.  It is both clever, but also subtly political.  One understands why Fotofolio publishes some of Audrey’s work as greeting cards.  The images are amusing and accessible.  But, for me, it is the slightly subversive back stories that take the work to another level.

You can currently view Audrey Heller’s photography at DeLaSole Footwear in the Castro.  She also is in the current group exhibition at ARC Gallery:  “Dollhouse” in SOMA.  She will be participating in the Artists Talk there Saturday, January 8^th from 1-3pm.  And, she will be at the Juror/Artists’ Reception on Thursday, January 13^th from 6-8pm.

This spring, Audrey will be showing her work at two Texas art festivals:  The Bayou City Arts Festival in Houston – March 25-27^th and The Main Street Fort Worth Art Festival in Fort Worth – April 14-17^th.  You can also see Audrey’s photography at her studio here in San Francisco by appointment.

Deconstruct Reconstruct: The Art of John Waguespack

Our conversation meandered.  We spoke about his journey from finance to graphic design and then to painting.  We spoke about the “big break” – getting a solo exhibition at a fine art gallery without the requisite CV – no group exhibitions, no art awards, no articles in prestigious art journals, no work in prominent private or public collections.  We spoke about philosophy – Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World” instead of George Orwell’s “1984”; how we seemed to have ended up in a world of information overload, where it is hard to know what is true and where we are desensitized to what we see and what we hear.  But mostly, we spoke about how we as human beings explore and make sense of the world around us and our place in that world.  It was not the conversation that I had expected.

I met with John Waguespack at the McLoughlin Gallery, the site of his current exhibition of new works.  Joan McLoughlin, the gallerist, was there with John.  Initially, I was most curious about how an unknown artist garnered a high profile solo exhibition.  Joan shared her experiences working in start-up companies in Silicon Valley – a successful career that allowed her to pursue her passion for art and become a gallerist.  She considers herself very fortunate and so part of her mission in the arts is to share that good fortune.  She gives back a portion of all sales to charity.  And, she is also very open to exhibiting new artists and giving them the opportunity to be seen.  A mutual friend and a fan of John’s work (which he became acquainted with through San Francisco Open Studios) made the introduction.  The large-scale mixed media works were very much in keeping with Joan’s sensibility.  More importantly, she was able to relate to his work intellectually and emotionally.  The paintings were social commentary without being obvious.  Those factors, combined with what had become a substantial body of work, led her to offer John the exhibition opportunity.  This is the first solo exhibition she has mounted for a previously unknown artist.

John grew up in the South.  The boom and bust times of the dot.com era in the 90’s and early 00’s, combined with a business school education, brought John to the West Coast.  He started out with a Japanese company in Silicon Valley helping them to market bad technology on the path to bankruptcy.  It was a blessing.  He received a severance which allowed him to contemplate the possibility that he was on the wrong path in life.  Returning to Atlanta, he attended a design school.  This was a step in the right direction, though still not entirely fine art.  He got a job with an ad agency back in the Bay Area.  Surviving there for nearly five years, he was able to land another severance package. This afforded the luxury to reinvent himself yet again – this time as an artist, a painter.

For the past several years, John painted nearly full-time, much of that time in semi-isolation.  He exhibited his work in Open Studios and in alternative venues, but mostly he just painted non-stop.  He retained some graphic design jobs to help pay the bills, but his focus was his art.  From his earliest experiences in school, visual vocabulary had always made more sense to him than written vocabulary.  He now firmly committed himself to exploring the world and his relationship to the world using that vocabulary.

Growing up in the South, which is quite conservative and was even more so then, John did not “come out” as a gay man until he was 26.  This was a watershed moment for him.  In one of the prominent works in the current exhibition: “1971”, John re-visited the year in which he was born.  He wanted to go back to “the beginning” and re-think his upbringing and his assumptions.  His approach is interesting.  As a culture, we have a very constrained attention span.  The media takes a complex series of events and edits them down to sound bites. John’s work is very much a product of these times.  He heavily researches his materials.  Then he distills the result in ways that say as much about him as they say about the ostensible subject.  It is transformed into a series of visual bites.  1971 is deconstructed, and then reconstructed as a highlight film:  Jim Morrison and Charles Manson; The Colts and the Cowboys; Soul Train and Nascar; Nixon and All In The Family.

In another work, “Lincoln in Metal”, John visually poses the question: “What would Lincoln think of the current world if he was reincarnated today?”.  This is a heavily textured work built up in many layers.  Layering is not so much a reflection of conscious technique as it is a reflection of sub-conscious process.  It is like an internal dialogue on the subject.  Ideas are entertained, modified, rejected, accepted, and finalized.  Only, instead of a verbal dialogue, in this case it is a visual dialogue.  And, the layers of the re-worked surface are the wake it leaves in the water.

Perhaps the best example of this process is his work: “Resurrecting Liberty”.  Here John explores the world in the aftermath of 9/11.  It is a great example because the consequences of 9/11 continue to unfold.  So, he kept re-painting the work over and over again.  Fortunately, he pulled out digital points in time along the journey.  This leaves us with a record of the internal dialogue. He said that he wishes that he had kept some of the works, rather than painting over them as his point of view on the events changed.  However, I believe that conceptually it is the process of visual exploration that makes the work interesting; and if there are casualties along the way – so be it.

I often ask artists how they know that a work is done.  John’s answer to the question was very illuminating.  He said that he knows that he is done when a work stops bothering him.

The current exhibition at McLoughlin Gallery has been extended through mid-January.  There is a “First Thursdays” reception next week on January 6th from 5:30-7:30 pm.  McLoughlin Gallery is located in the 49 Geary gallery complex near Union Square.  After the exhibition closes, work can be viewed by appointment.

London Bridge Is Falling Down

For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, I am often drawn to art that chronicles urban decay.  I particularly love the abandoned buildings that dot the waterfront in San Francisco and the artist studio buildings that have taken root in that landscape, from the Noonan Building at Pier 70 to the Shipyard at Hunters Point.  It is not clear if Jenny Robinson’s choice to locate her studio at the Shipyard was cause or effect.  It is clear that her work is deeply rooted in that, and similar, urban landscapes.

With particular emphasis on the ordinary features of her city surroundings, Jenny chronicles the “cycle of decay and renewal” that impact our bridges, highway interchanges, billboards and, my favorite, the under-maintained industrial buildings.  She notes that “by exploring the dichotomy of these often abandoned structures, at once monumental and fragile, unsightly yet beautiful, I aim to bring attention to the drama of the over-looked and abandoned corners of the world”.

Jenny’s journey began in Borneo.  Her father was an expatriate engineer.  She spent much of her childhood growing up there; and later, traveling between Southeast Asia and Britain when she, like many children of expatriates, attended boarding school in London.  From early on, she exhibited a facility in drawing.  She carried a sketchbook everywhere, fascinated by the differences in light and shadow.  From these early experiences. she developed a taste for travel that persists to this day.

In the 80’s, she formally entered art school in West Surrey.  There she was exposed to every possible medium and technique.  Britain was a great place to study art.  All of the material costs were covered.  Art students could freely explore their world and find their voice.  Jenny found that printmaking (and to a lesser extent, photography) was where her creativity best flowed.  That was where she took her “foundations”.  After college, she worked in the commercial art worlds of design, illustration and animation.  In the later, she had quite fortuitously made a connection through a friend with film and video producers.  She worked on films creating special effects.  The work was project-oriented and it paid well.  With each project, she would save up; then use her savings to go traveling.  As was her habit, everywhere she went, she carried her sketchbook.  She would also bring a camera for “back-up” photographs.  The art that she produced was, in her own words, “popular, but a little too romantic”.   Before she became a captive of her own success, she changed directions.  The early work had focused on light and shadow, but it was, in her opinion, overly pretty.  She started to sketch grittier, urban subject matter; and her color palette began to focus on the ochre’s and gray’s that dominate her current works.

Jenny’s work continues to evolve.  At first, she tended to rely more heavily on the photographic references.  Stylistically, the work was very detailed.  More recently, she has made a conscious decision to rely more heavily on the sketches.  The result has been work with a more painterly quality.  Technically, the work has also evolved.  Printmakers are, according to Jenny, a very generous community.  They attend workshops together and share techniques.  So her work is always growing technically.  I am particularly intrigued with her current printmaking technique, which owes a lot to both monotype and dry-point.  She actually creates her images on cardboard, illustration board to be precise.  After creating the image, she seals the illustration board with varnish.  She then carves into that sealed “plate” from which she prints, in a process similar to dry-point.  This allows her to create the detailed drawing of the infrastructure which is her subject.  Then, to achieve the more painterly quality, she adds the color washes in 4-6 passes, in a technique that owes more to monoprinting.

Jenny has taught at the Academy of Art and Chico State.  She is currently a resident artist at Kala in Berkeley.  She teaches workshops regularly at ICA in San Jose and at the San Francisco Center for the Book.  She also participates nationally in various residency and workshop programs, including this past summer at the Cabrillo Arts Summer Santa Cruz Workshops.  She has exhibited nationally and internationally.  Currently, she has gallery representation at Davidson Gallery in Seattle & Warnock Fine Arts in Palm Springs.  This weekend you can see her work during San Francisco Open Studios Weekend Four.  And, her studio is also open by appointment.

Curiosity Dissected the Cat – Sandra Yagi

Earlier this year we visited the studio of Sandra Yagi in San Francisco’s SOMA area.  Her studio is in an industrial building in the shadow of the Bay Bridge, but it has great light – very important for an artist whose work is rooted in life drawing.  While Sandy’s work often has a surreal feel to it, an exploration of her studio reveals the references that inform that work.  She is a diligent student of nature.  There are books on botany and anatomy.  There are taxidermy forms.  There is a skeleton named Frederick.

Sandy’s life as an artist was a dream deferred.  While she was always interested in making art, that was not an education that her father, ever practical, was going to pay for.  Instead, she started out with a business degree and a career in finance.  After Bank of America relocated her here to San Francisco from Denver, she began seriously studying and making art on the side.  With her business/finance background, she developed a formal plan to transition to art.  She and her partner settled into a very frugal lifestyle, saving towards the goal of being able to support themselves with Sandy pursuing art.  There was an actual business plan.  They worked with the most conservative assumption that there would be no revenue from art initially.  And, they set a standard of living for themselves that allowed for that.  This gave Sandy the time she needed to find her voice as an artist.

And, it is a fascinating voice, indeed.  Sandy is intensely interested in how things work.  And, at the same time, she is very interested in how different societies at different times have tried to unravel those mysteries.  Much of her work explores both the modern world’s scientific discoveries and the ancient world’s mythology looking for similarities and disconnects.

In one series of work, she specifically explores myth and symbolism.  She scientifically illustrates horses with detailed anatomy in one painting that is based on the myth of the Mares of Diomedes – horses with an unnatural appetite for human flesh.  The story resonates in the modern world as parable of nature punishing man.  She paints skulls with reptiles crawling around in the cranial cavity.  The paintings are not just a little disturbing.  And, it is not an accident that one of these paintings is in the collection of Axl Rose.  But the symbolism is again very modern.  It is a direct reference to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. This is a representation of man’s reptilian brain taking over.  Consumption of the bird in the painting symbolizes consumption of freedom or the soul.

In a more recent series of paintings, Sandy has focused specifically on the skeletal forms.  She shows skeletons having sex – an amusing reference to Petit Mort.  She illustrates Madonna and Child, where the child is a skeleton of conjoined fetal twins – the opposite of perfection.  And, there is a whole series of dancing skeletal conjoined twins, appealing to her desire to intensely study how the body works, but in a slightly twisted and highly amusing way.

Recently, Sandy produced a series of sixteen small works for an exhibition at ARC Gallery in San Francisco, “FourSquared”, that I had the honor of co-curating.  The concept of the exhibition was to showcase sixteen artists in sixteen articulated grids, effectively creating sixteen small separate exhibitions.  All of the works were small and affordable.  Sandy embraced the concept enthusiastically and characteristically.  She used the exhibition as an opportunity to embark on yet another series of works exploring the world both scientifically and surrealistically.  The question she asked was “What if evolution took a different path?”.  With obsessive detail, she imagined hybrid creatures:  Mandrill Demons, Feathertail Possums, and PigeonRats.  In meticulous rendered small oil paintings, she not only imagined these creatures, she also created entire worlds for them to inhabit. SpiderMonkey now graces my personal collection.

Everyone has a wonderful opportunity to visit Sandy in her studio this weekend as San Francisco Open Studios moves to SOMA for Weekend Two (October 15-17).  Her studio is in the South Beach Artists Studios at 2^nd & Bryant Streets.  And, if you miss her this weekend, she will be featured in a solo exhibition at the Bert Green Fine Art Gallery in Los Angeles in January 2011.  You can also arrange to see Sandra Yagi’s studio by appointment.

Profile in Art: Sidnea D’Amico

”Warm colors, shapes and lines drive my work.  I like to work in series, and enjoy being playful with the subjects I have in mind.  I work with acrylics, often incorporating resin, Polaroid transfer, transfers or collage in my paintings.” -Sidnea D’Amico, Artist Statement

I recently visited artist Sidnea D’Amico in her San Francisco studio, where she was busy getting ready for San Francisco Open Studios this October.  Her work at this year’s Open Studios will feature recent collage-based paintings.  Working with a brightly saturated palette, Sidnea is concerned with her urban environment.  Her experience growing up in Sao Paolo with its particular graffiti style has been particularly important in her art.  Because graffiti is seen as a subversive act on the urban landscape, as an art form, it retains a traditional ‘outsider’ aspect to it, akin to 1960s counterculture and ‘bad boy’ personas.  The 21st century, however, has enjoyed a validation of graffiti with the work of artists such as Blek le Rat and Banksy, resulting in appreciation and enjoyment by artists and the general public of previously perceived vandalisms.  Sidnea has responded to São Paolo’s graffiti by re-purposing the visual memory of it in her paintings; creating a set of images that remind her of home, while pursuing her artwork and supporting her family in her newly adopted California home.  Such was her appreciation of graffiti, that, on a recent trip to São Paolo, while driving around with her parents, in response to their despair at the blight and urban decay symbolized by São Paolo’s prominent graffiti culture, Sidnea pointed out that the graffiti represented hope and beautiful imagery.  By the end of that trip, her parents began to appreciate their new discovery and pointed out their favorite instances of graffiti to her.  Skilled at representing abstract contemporary ideas, Sidnea addresses her environment using a visual vernacular that is contemporary and of the moment.

Born in Brazil, Sidnea studied photography and jewelry design.  When she settled in the USA, she began to develop her career as a visual artist.  Well read, literate, and articulate, Sidnea’s current reading reflects her love of biographies with a list that includes Lives of the Artists and Interview vols. 1 & 2 by Hans Ulrich Obrist.  She is multi-lingual, including Italian, Portuguese and is pursuing conversational French.

Among her many accomplishments, some of the highlights include:  California group exhibitions; shows in Dubai, Greece and Italy; an invitation to speak about her work at the Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts exhibition for Visionary Women; representative of Brazil at the Florence Biennale for Contemporary Art; and recently a third place award (while representing Brazil) at the Dubai International Art Symposium.  She has been invited twice, in 2007 and 2008, to participate in Hearts and Heroes, a public art project to benefit San Francisco General Hospital.  One of those works is now part of the Stanford permanent collection where it can be viewed at the Stanford Outpatient Center in Redwood City, California.

Visiting an artist’s studio offers a glimpse into a much more personal and intimate space than a gallery or museum. Sidnea’s studio, a bright compact space in the heart of San Francisco’s Mission District, is a colorful, vital place, full of paint samples, small paintings, sketches and most importantly, light. She showed us a few works in progress, a few pieces prepared for the recent group exhibition, FourSquared, at ARC Gallery; and, also, her more recent work forming the vernacular of her series addressing the urban landscape.

Meeting with Sidnea was very pleasant.  Young, pretty and bright, a parent, and a working professional, she was open and easy to speak with.  Recalling a recent residency in Serbia, she spoke of the beautiful rural landscapes and environment.  But she also noted her realization that her heart was firmly entrenched in urban visual culture.

Just for fun, I asked Sidnea to answer a few personal questions for our Profile in Art:

Where were you born and where do you live now?

I was born in Brazil, live in San Francisco

Education and occupation?

I studied photography and Jewelry design in Brazil, here I start architecture but drop to do fine arts.  Now I am a visual artist.

Charity?

I always donate my work for non profit organizations that I believe is doing something important for the community. I absolute believe that when you have your heart into helping others, your life is enriched in all meanings.

High point(s) of your life?

While at JFK airport (New York), enroute to Brazil, after living in Switzerland, at the last minute I decided to change my path, got my luggage, and caught the last flight to San Francisco.  I had never been to San Francisco before but felt it would open my future…

When I quit architecture to pursue art, determined to never give up.

When my daughter was born – I will never forget that moment!

Travel?

I used to love to travel by myself, discover new places, meet new people.  Lately I enjoy traveling when art is involved, meet other artists and show my work

I have been invited to Dubai, Greece, Hungary, Serbia and next year I will be showing my work in Poland.

Do you like music?

Brazilian jazz is my favorite

What defines you?

Passion.

Are you a fashionista, cerebral, both, why?

I am impulsive, instinctive and emotional.  Inexplicably, I care about fashion only when on vacation. Here, in my daily life I just like to wear the same old jeans and t-shirt.

What entertains you?

I am entertained by my work. I deeply enjoy painting. My studio is my playground.  Also, I enjoy a good biography, the movies, watching my daughter play volleyball, walking in G.G. Park listening to music.

What is the best thing about your life?

That I am able to do what I do, Paint! I am thankful everyday that I do what I do.

-Micaëla Van Zwoll, 09.2010

Containers of Information – The Art of Monika Steiner

The rich oil paintings by Monika Steiner investigate subtle relationships between perception and material reality. Her paintings are meditative by virtue of color, shape, and multiple layers. Using ideas of surface and dissolving shapes, she creates a metaphor for the cycle of appearances arising out of, then returning to, states of pure potential.

Steiner is a beautiful woman with a refined appearance.  At a recent visit to her studio, she was friendly and expressive, lighting up when discussing her work.  Currently on exhibition at Micaëla Gallery in San Francisco, Steiner’s work studies contemplative relationships through a detailed visual landscape.

She states, “All forms of matter are containers of information.  Particles come in and out of existence, through our intention to observe them, passing from the inchoate into the physical and then back into the realm of potential.  Referencing this, my paintings feature emerging and dissolving spheres, Nature’s most efficient shape, floating in empty space.  This concept allows an investigation of relationships between perception and material reality. Harmonious background colors interacting with the energetic floating spheres create a balance that it is delicate and powerful, dramatic and serene.”

The ongoing exhibitions of Steiner’s work possess obvious kinship.  In a three-woman exhibition at Micaëla Gallery (through October 30), Steiner’s work is a presentation of color and geometric harmonies, while her recent exhibition at ARC Gallery (through September 18) is a distillation of her summer residency in Greece this year.  Both exhibitions present artwork conforming to painting formalities and visual agreement.

Born in Switzerland in 1972, Steiner holds various degrees.  In 2005, she received her BFA (Magna Cum Laude) in Painting from Sonoma State University.  Steiner’s painting was recognized early during her studies as a painter, resulting in professional acceptance of her work in galleries while still a student.  She earned recognition for her work as a goldsmith in Interlaken, Switzerland, and was awarded a Teaching Credential from the University of Bern.  She resides in Switzerland and the San Francisco Bay Area, where she teaches painting and is devoted to her practice of painting and sculpture.  Steiner has shown her work (and enjoyed successful exhibitions) in Switzerland. She is currently represented by galleries in the San Francisco Bay Area, Seattle, and Santa Fe.   -Micaëla Van Zwoll, 09.2010

The Importance of Place

On a recent Sunday afternoon, I sat down with William Salit in his brand-new studio at ARC, the gallery/studios complex that my partners and I recently started in SOMA.  We talked about setting up his new space – his first studio since the tragic demise of Belcher Studios two years ago.  Belcher Studios was, in many ways, the template that we used when we started ARC.  We all loved the energy and spirit of community at Belcher. In fact, when I first found out that the building that used to house New Langton Arts was available, I actually approached some of the former Belcher artists about the possibility of resurrecting that community in the building.  Ultimately that did not work out.  We formed our own partnership and started ARC.  However, I was really thrilled when William, one of the Belcher artists that I really admired, decided to join the studios.

At Belcher, the first studio that you encountered when you entered was William Salit’s studio.  When William saw the studio at the top of the stairs with its window open to the staircase, it was like coming home.  He immediately took the space.  In February, he started moving in.  By last week’s grand opening, it was beautifully laid out.  All of which led to a conversation about the importance of place.

Over the past two years, he has largely taken a hiatus from drawing.  As you can tell from his beautifully organized studio, William has a love affair with order.  Everything has a place and everything is in its space.  This is true in his home, his office and his studio.  However, strangely enough, he found that this need for order in most of his life was stifling his art.  He was not able to “let go” in his ordered spaces.  At Belcher, he had given himself the freedom to allow chaos into his studio.  He is not quite there yet at ARC.  But, he envisions very shortly carving out an island of chaos where he can have the freedom to let his art take him wherever it wants to go. 

There is an echo of Greek mythology in this discussion.  Chaos was the primordial ether from which the gods created the universe.  It was not the opposite of order.  Rather it was the raw material from which order was drawn.  For William, the physical connection between chaos and order is his crayon.  He talks about his hand and the graphite in that hand as if it was somehow disconnected from his body:  “My hand loves a piece of the Conté crayon in it.”  He draws aggressively.  It is not a delicate process.  This is no gentle foxtrot.  It is a wild tango.  And, the Conté crayon is a very hard kaolin/graphite/pigment mixture that accommodates his dance. 

The range of William’s work is astonishing.  I asked him to pull out some of his work , so we could talk a little bit about some of the different things that he had done and that he was doing.  We actually started with a recent series of photographs.  When he was without a dedicated studio, his drawing almost completely stopped.  No island of chaos was available.  His design work benefited, as his art sought an outlet.  He also began photographing more seriously.  I was particularly drawn to a large series of works of “found objects” photographed in the streets of San Francisco.  They are unstaged objects found lying on the street that do not belong.  I was particularly fascinated with the Band-Aid meticulously affixed along side a crack in the sidewalk.

There are the “Old Master” drawings – studies of the head and the figure reminiscent of Italian Renaissance drawings.  He opened his flat file and pulled out study after study of Val, his continuous muse for over 20 years – going back to his college days in New York.  They moved to San Francisco together.  He has drawn her literally thousands of times. I, in fact, met her leaving William’s studio when I arrived.  These are masterful, traditional drawings.  They are beautiful in their own right.  But, they are also like a musician playing his scales.  As William gears up, the drawings are his way of stretching his artistic muscles.

And, last but not least, we talked about the organic abstractions.  The foundation here is also the figure.  However, it is a sub-conscious foundation.  He begins with a line and starts drawing without purpose.  As it takes shape, he might turn it sideways or upside-down to make sense out of it.  He adds oil washes to the waxy charcoal.  He collages on the drawing.  He colors on the drawing.  In some cases, he makes a series of prints utilizing techniques similar to monoprinting.  I asked him how he knew he was done.  He described a process of “half lives”.  The frenzy simply winds down.  It is never really done.  But, much like a calculation in calculus, the drawing simply approaches being finished to the point where there was no meaningful difference between being finished and being almost finished.  Then he stops.

William Salit is one of the featured artists on this month’s Tour des Artistes studio tours.  You can also see his work at the SOMA Spring Open Studios.  There will be a preview exhibition at ARC Gallery on April 9-10.  And, his studio will be open for Open Studios on April 16-18.  Or, you can contact William through his website to arrange to for a studio visit by appointment.

Stop Motion

photograph by Shaun Roberts

The details of Brett Amory’s journey from skateboarding in Chesapeake Bay to making art in the San Francisco Bay Area are well chronicled.  Dormain Geyer profiled Brett on Arteaser and there are published interviews in Fecal Face, MyNinjaPlease.com and Sour Harvest.  Brett interviews very well.  The story of how he moved from skateboarding and snowboarding; to studying film making; to formally studying drawing; then, transitioning to painting is a fascinating story.  I encourage everyone to read the profile and the interviews.

When we recently met, we started to re-visit the biographical details of his journey from Bay to Bay.  I was duly taking notes, but realized that I was about to write a story that had already been written several times.  So we changed directions.  We began talking about the paintings that are currently showing in a group show: “Tri-Product” at Fabric8 Gallery here in San Francisco.  This is the gallery where I first really noticed Brett’s work over a year ago.  There is something about his paintings that resonates with me on a visceral level, and this is what we decided to explore.

The current series at Fabric8 are part of a larger body of work collectively titled “Waiting”.  The first paintings in the “Waiting” series were straight-forward, graphic representations of the people he observed when commuting.  He worked on these paintings from 2000 – 2003.  In these first works, he more or less painted what he had detailed in the photographs that he had taken. The process was heavily informed by his professional work in Photoshop.  As he points out, “Photoshop and computer manipulation are a huge part of why I’m an artist. I started doing Photoshop manipulations before I started painting and that was one of the things that got me into painting. So, I always wanted to tie those two things together”.  After 2003, he moved on to several new series of works, experimenting with different mediums and techniques.  Then, in 2007, he returned to the “Waiting” series. 

The new works are anything but straight-forward.  Where the first works in the series were more or less “what you see is what you get”; the new works really explore emotionally the original subject matter.  What had first grabbed Brett’s attention when he started chronicling the commuters waiting for their chariots was the disconnect between their mental and physical locations.  They were standing waiting for the bus or train, but they were really someplace else.   Now, with a renewed energy, Brett began to explore that emotional landscape more intensely. 

“Waiting 23” is one of the first works painted after he decided to re-visit the series in 2007.  Three older women are waiting at a bus stop near a café.  Brett is particularly drawn to older people who may have had a hard life. For him, they seem to be part of a different era.  They dress without regard to modern fashion.  Their thoughts do not seem to be rooted in the here and now.  In this painting, he portrays the “here, but not really here” quality of the bus stop figures by actually repeating the same figure three times on the bench.  He then separates them from their surroundings graphically with a lighter pink background.  The figures are juxtaposed with the more fashionably attired young couple at the café, who are more clearly present both in the scene and in the “now”.  Stylistically, the painting is transitional, strongly referencing the graphic design roots of the earlier series.  It is much more tightly constructed than the other paintings in the show.

 With “Waiting 48”, Brett is starting to, in his words, “let go of technique”.  There is still a short film quality to the work.  The figure walking along 14^th Street is repeated three times.  He passes by three girls standing and impatiently waiting for a bus.  He passes by a woman seated on the street, a figure that Brett uses in several of his paintings.  The real world woman is often seated on the street near Shooting Gallery on Larkin Street.  She has lived a hard-scrabble life.  She is rooted in her spot on the sidewalk, but her thoughts are miles away.  The man walking along notices none of them.

 In “Waiting 49” three figures wait at a bus stop in an abstracted landscape.  The figures are also more abstracted.  Brett paints in twenty minute sessions.  He composes in Photoshop.  Then he broadly lays in the composition on the painting.  He adds in the figures.  He paints them over.  He adds them back in.  It is subtraction by addition.  Pushing and pulling.  The final work seems simple, but as we both agreed – simple is difficult.

 In many ways, the most interesting of the paintings in the current show is “Waiting 50”.  The house in the painting is actually the house that Michael Jackson grew up in.  Brett found an image of that house in a magazine.  This is the one-bedroom house where, as Brett put it, “everything started”.  Brett is also a musician and there is a clear fascination with the Michael Jackson’s roots.  He populates the landscape again with the woman from Larkin Street.  Here she is both panhandling on the street.  But she is also the ghostly presence on the doorstep of the house.  The ghostly separation of the house is emphasized further by the dramatic use of negative space in this work.

all paintings photographed by Almac Photography

The final painting in the show is “Waiting 51”.  Another figure is waiting at the bus stop.  This painting has the most prominent use of the childlike figures sprinkled throughout the painting, like Easter eggs waiting to be discovered.  Interestingly, the childlike birds, dogs and flowers are actually copies of drawings made by children.   They are drawn in with graphite and not readily apparent.  The idea is that the more you look at the painting, the more you will discover.

All of which brings me back to what is about Brett’s work that resonates with me?  Some of his influences that we discussed were painters like Edward Hopper and photographers like Todd Hido.  Like those artists, the works are ruminative without being specific.  They capture the peculiar quality of aloneness that is unique to metropolitan life.

You can currently view Brett Amory’s work at Fabric6 Gallery through November 30^th.  He is also in group shows at Gallery Heist, opening November 14^th and at Double Punch Gallery opening on November 21^st.  Or, you can contact Brett through his website  to arrange to view works at his studio.