"Fairy Tale Pharmacy"

I made an installation for a project. I call it "Fairy Tale Pharmacy." Before I talk about my work, I will first give some context. 

Detail on Fairy Tale Pharmacy

An Installation, in contemporary art, is when an artist fills a space with works or a group of objects to create an environment for the viewer to experience. These works often take much effort and thought to be shown for a short amount of time. Documentation, photos or video, of the experience ends up being necessary.

Some noteworthy installation artists are Christ Burden, Adrian Piper, Vito Acconci, Judy Chicago, Mike Kelley, and Bruce Nauman. One of my favorites, Judy Chicago, created an installation celebrating feminists throughout history. She made intricate place settings representing each woman, with a little humor. One would assume the experience for the one dining would be to eat from the plate which was a floral sculptural object.

For screen-printing class at the good ol' university I was making sets of prints for an assignment that was called "quilt." It could be any size and about any subject. My professor encouraged us to go big with our projects.When I was informed that this project had to be presented formally, I had to re-think a few ideas of how this would happen. It was all about the location. I was lucky enough to reserve the back wall of the Todd Madigan Gallery that was not being used by the current exhibit, for a couple days at least, during the end of the end of the quarter.

First, over a few weeks, I made sets of two color screen-prints of pill bottles from drawings I designed. For design purposes, I decided to use complimentary colors for bottles in relation to the words. The colors of the bags were made to evoke a feeling. 

The red and blue pills are inspired by 1999 film, The Matrix. The blue pills are the ones that make you stay in the "reality" that has been created and is accepted by most people. On white paper bags there were sets of orange bottles with the prescription sign and the word blue in the shape of pills printed on top. White paper bags are what prescription medications come in.  Also for design purposes I used the word "blu" instead of "blue," and in the other bottles, "big" instead of "large." 

'Blu'

The red pill, as the Matrix says, lets you see "how far down the rabbit hole goes." In the film, the red pill gives the reality that most people do not see. On brown paper bags there were sets of green bottles with a prescription sign and the word red in the shape of pills printed on top. Brown paper bags are what lunch come in and are sometimes used for other purposes. 

'Red'

The big and small pills are inspired by Alice in Wonderland. A bit more straightforward, big ones simply make you big. On pink and brown paper bags there were sets of yellow bottles with the same "eat me" instructions and the word big on top. I wanted the pink and green bags to look appetizing. Brown bags in this case were the "other purposes." 

Two kinds of 'Big'

The the 'Small' pills make you small. On green and brown paper bags there were sets of purple bottles with the instructions "eat me" and the word small on top.

'Small' and cookie

Inside some of the bags were goodies. The bags of 'Blu' had apples and oranges in them. The bags of 'Red' had candy in them. The bags of 'Big' had marshmallows in them. The bags of 'Small' had cookies in them.  For a quick recap listen to Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit. Some of the song is actually about Alice in Wonderland. 

Bags with candy for "Red"

The bags were set up in five rows across the walls and floor. The highest bags were eight and a half feet up. The room was twenty six feet long by seven feet wide.

Fairy Tale Pharmacy

The idea behind the placement was if it were an abstract of a fruit tree, but machine-like, some would grow, and fall when ripe, as seen by the ones on the ground. 

'Ripe' bags with apple from 'Blu'

Some would not grow, as manifested by the blank ones; and some would rot, as manifested by the crumpled ones. Others were doubles and/or mixed adding some variety in the many otherwise similar group of bags. 

Some variations

The fruits, apples, oranges, cookies, marshmallows, candy, were found in the 'ripe' bags to be either enjoyed or left to rot. All the stages of growth were represented.

To view this piece was an experience. As the audience tried to interpret the objects in the room, I participated in the piece by picking up a bag and casually eating the contents. One bag after another. Seeing this, some of the audience took my lead and participated by consuming the contents of a bag they saw fit. Some were weary of trusting what was inside because of the connotations of the outside descriptions. Some did not care of the possible consequences of eating contents. I, half believing my intended meaning, ate one of every kind of bag so they would counteract each other, littering when I was finished. If every bag does what it is supposed to, we could potentially have control over what happens to us. The full experience was only happened the first day when my classmates viewed it; the aftermath was what remained for the next two days. 

Removing the installation

And now it is gone. The room has been documented. The bags are now artifacts. The candy is long since digested. And I get to clean up the room, or else. 

For Further Reading:

Installation: A History

Installation Art for Dummies

New Installation Artists

The Matrix (1999), Recap on the Pill

Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit

PS. I would like to thank a friend for telling me to look at a container I use daily and used to throw away. 

Assisting Ms Weatherford.

     The way I can think of explaining this is to first think about conceptual art. Conceptual art is about the idea (concept) and manifesting that idea through whatever medium by whatever means. Through a hierarchy, based on educational merit, nepotism, a portfolio and other things, an artist gets to have assistants to help carry out his or her concept.

In history, artists’ assistants were responsible for all the little things like keeping the studio clean, or mixing the artist’s paint, and sometimes, when they were lucky, assistants were even allowed to paint some of the background, however without historical credit. The artist’s assistants do everything they can to help an artist create his or her vision. Even art professors at the good ol’ university have worked as assistants to higher up artists and may have risen up in the food chain because of it. Several professors I know worked on Chris Burden’s Metropolis II, currently showing at the Los Angeles Community Museum of Art.

Chris Burden, Metropolis II

One professor explained artist assisting as working for someone a few days a week, then having time to make your own art the rest of the week. That is sort of what happened on this project. I worked on this project, and went to class full time, then went home every night and painted; but this blog is far less about me. This winter I helped Mary Weatherford with her project for the Todd Madigan Gallery of Cal State Bakersfield.

        [Note: Because I am not accustomed to taking a camera everywhere with me and claiming to be a photographer, I have drawings I made in my sketchbook of Mary and other people who worked on this project.]

        Mary Weatherford was the visiting artist at CSUB this year. She is from Southern California. Mary’s education includes Princeton for her BA in Art History/Visual Arts; the Whitney Independent Study Program; and earned her MFA at Bard College. Then she had tons of exhibitions, both collaborative (group) and solo. Her most recent exhibits have been “Vines,” Sister and Cottage Home 2008, and “Cave at Pismo,” Brennan & Griffin Gallery 2011. She rented an apartment a month before winter quarter began to get acclimated to Bakersfield, where she would be working for five weeks.

First of all, I only joined the project by chance. I was in screen printing class, which is taught by the Gallery Director of CSUB, Joey Kotting, and he told me to checkout this class. So I went. That day Mary told the class, which was about six of us, of how she had been exploring Bakersfield and all the different things she was interested in. She had such enthusiasm in her words as she told us of her first experience with art, which was her father taking her to museums and holding her up hovering before large paintings. Mary also made it very clear that she kept her day job as an accountant, even though she is what one would consider a successful artist. This information and because she was a painter, was why I decided to join the project.

Mary painted some studies the first weekend of the project, alone. Through these small studies she was able to revise and refine her concept; but also concluded that small scale paintings would look different than the scale of painting we would build for the show. 

To make the canvases we had to assemble the custom made stretchers. These were aluminum with a wood plate for staples. That way, the whole thing is able to be broken down, with the rolled up canvas, and mailed off to be re-assembled by the owner. It was tricky work because every piece had a specific place and I don’t remember seeing any pictures of the plans; this puzzle was delicately directed by Mary.

Mary on the frame puzzle

 The canvas we used was linen from Venice, which is mush thicker than ordinary canvas I am used to. We cut pieces specifically for each of our newly assembled stretcher frames. This linen canvas would be stretched two times, which seemed crazy, but compared to another artist Mary mentioned who stretches his canvas ten times, this was okay. The gesso was a mixture of Mary's own recipe, which is different every time. To preserve what may be a trade secret, I am only going to say there was readymade Golden brand gesso and water, leaving out what other ingredients that were added.  Once she showed me her recipe, I mixed a few gallons more to use on the remaining canvases. We gesso'd the eight large canvases three coats per canvas.

Important Brushes

Brushes to spread the gesso were important as well. For the technique she showed us, which was a vigorous scrubbing method, she favored a wide brush with fairly short hairs. This process was extra tiring because the heater was on full blast to counteract the cold from the outside. I, preferring the heat, didn’t mind. 

We collaborated with the people of Center Neon, a local neon maker and distributor who is responsible for making much of the neon signs seen around town. Center Neon renovated the sign for the Fox Theater. We discussed the different types of neon that would be available and when it could be made by. The people of Center Neon were excited to work with us because they had never been able to try artistic things in their business.

Center Neon

  The plan was to make what were considered “giant beer signs,” a term to describe the circuitry the artwork would use to fit safety standards for private viewing. Mary chose the “colors” of neon, which are made up from different gasses combined with different types of glass.  Each piece of neon had to be planned out for Center Neon to fabricate for this project.  

Neon Stencils

A stencil was made for each piece out of masking tape on paper. Each line represents either an acrobatic form a gymnast can make or the impossibility of drawing a straight line by hand.  

Dan and Assistant

Our tech guy for the Art Department, Dan Slayton, constructed a wood support system to hold the neon. This had to be attached to each frame on the back and screwed through the linen canvas with minimal visibility from the front.

 A week before the show, we were informed that Mary’s long time mentor and employer, Mike Kelley, died at 59.  Mary thought it was important to have a word of mouth memory of his legacy. Mike’s style of art had more influence over her show than she originally planned. Mike’s painting is more about imagery and pop culture; color washes in the center of an empty space. Mary's work has become similar, but her work is color which represents negative space. This can be seen in her previous series of cave paintings where she painted only the light in the cave.

Mary remembering Mike Kelly

 Mike was a doer and he got things done; there was all this extra work he did as a famous artist.  Mary said that Mike was super creative and smart and she found it odd that he didn't want to live anymore. My stomach churned. This is not what a young artist wants to hear: A rich and successful artist who ends his own life. I had heard of many artists dyeing young, even some taking their own lives, but this is definitely not what I want to hear. I figured the only thing we could do right now was let her tell us about Mike and try to get what work we could get done that day to keep her mind off things.

Historical Significance of Artists to Mary

In terms of this project, Mary told us how Mike Kelley never let anyone into his studio while he was actually making his work, only before and after to assist in things like stretching or what have you.  Helping, in Mike's book, is a lot of sitting around time but being there when it is important.  Mary explained the historical significance other artists’ like Mike Kelley had on her work. “The Uncanny,” a book by Mike, was recommended.

After her first painting session, the assistants were tasked with raising and stapling each canvas on to the wall so she could see how they were coming along and analyze what, if anything, to add in paint. Normally in her personal studio she would either do this task herself or with one paid assistant, but this was a big project in such a short amount of time, so the more assistants the better. Mary said, "It’s like having twelve hands.” 

Linen stapled to walls, more to paint

I tried to help staple to the wall. I was ready to help, staple-gun in hand. I wasn’t tall enough to reach the top of the canvass, even on a step stool, and was therefore dismissed from this task. Instead I swept the floor, and later wiped down the plastic that covered the floor for the canvas to lay.

At the same time we wrote a press release and made posters to advertise the show. We had to have the Gallery's Facebook page up and running. Posters then had to be distributed around campus.  An after party was even planned by Mary. Her sister’s band from San Diego, The Shantyannes, would play at Trout’s right after the reception at the Todd Madigan Gallery.

  At this point she already named each of them and knew what kind of neon would be on them. With the now three times gesso’d and one time painted canvasses on the walls, the show appeared as if it may be already finished. There was still plenty to do. Mary added more layers of color to each painting. The team stretched the canvasses again on the frames and added the neon structures.  The team also cleaned up the gallery that had been used as a studio for weeks and make it look like a gallery once more. Walls had to be painted. I partnered up with someone to scrub the floors.

The day of opening Mary's show was mentioned in the Bakersfield Californian Newspaper. The night of the opening was a great success. The gallery was filled with people from the beginning of the lecture explaining the exhibit and Mary’s process to the end when the last of the cookies were gone. 

Mary Weatherford's Lecture next to Truxtun

The show, 'Mary Weatherford: The Bakersfield Project,' will be on display until March 9^th, 2012, in Todd Madigan Gallery, 9001 Stockdale Hwy, Bakersfield. Gallery hours are Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday from 1-6pm, and Saturday 1-5pm. (closed Sunday, Monday, Friday). We students are taking turns sitting the Gallery for this time.

For further reading:

On Artist's Assistants

B&G Gallery

Todd Madigan Gallery

The Uncanny, by Mike Kelley
Center Neon, Bakersfield 

The Shantyannes

ps. I would like to thank my editors for helping correct this blog.

Beginnings

Part One: Greatest Hits

Classes at the good ol' university have started up again. I have SO MUCH homework due tomorrow for other classes, but I thought I'd take a break to write a blog (don't worry I have hours and hours to do my other homework). An assignment for one of the better art classes was to write about my first memorable experience with art. My response was short (only a paragraph) but I thought it would be a good idea to think about it some more and share here, because I love my readers so much (or the people who pretend to read and only look at the pictures. I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!) I am calling this my greatest hits because there were many more art experiences as a child, but for the sake of the blog (and my homework time) I kept this relitively short.

Elementary Happenings:

One of my first experiences with other people's art I remember is from reading the children's book Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister. The illustrations were done in watercolor, emphasis on the color. It depicted a fish who's scales were blue, purple, green and shiny colors. The fish gave away all his shiny scales so everyone could be a little shiny; a little special. This and other children's books, including but not limited to Whinnie the Pooh, and Dr. Seuss's One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, are things I remember drawing from. I also drew characters from cartoons and comics from the newspaper. I was not short of crayons and pencils. I remember drawing the scales of that fish; So many scales. (Half circle. half circle. half circle...)

Rainbow Fish by Marcus Pfister

Once in elementary school we were drawing trees for some reason. There were a few trees on my paper. I decided to color the trunk of one blue. If I recall correctly, the teacher told us to do whatever we want; I have since learned that that is never the case. Ms. C, we'll call her, found this completely unacceptable. She scolded me asking if I had ever seen a blue tree. I, being incredibly shy at the time, didn't have the time to answer that I had seen one on TV. She finished her own sentence, "NO, THERE ARE NO BLUE TREES." That one sure stuck.

In the fifth grade my class was drawing flowers. We used something like conte crayon or colored charcoal; I don't remember, I was a kid at the time! What I do remember is the stuff was smearable and it got all over my hands. I first drew the flower in pencil from whatever we were drawing from. The class only had a certain amount of time, and some didn't get to color theirs. I colored mine pink with yellow dots for the middle. Only one flower was required, but I decided to make one and a half, because I thought it looked better. I noticed that the chalk or charcoal, maybe it was pastel, smeared, so I went with it and made smeared on purpose to color the whole thing. Then I wrote 'alex' in purple at the bottom of the paper in cursive, because I had just learned it, with two underlines beneath it. I gave that drawing to one of my aunts. She liked it enough to matt and frame it. [she has since passed away, so now the picture resides in my studio]

Elementary School Flowers

Art Classes:

I was reluctant to take art classes, and still am, because I thought or think I know what I’m doing. Seinor year in High School, when I finally gave in, I took an art class. One previous teacher had left so I got a brand new teacher (another thing I experienced often). In Ms. N's or Ms. T's class, she changed her name while I was there, I sort of learned how to mix colors of paint. The whole class she complained about how she had no good examples from students of the assignments because the ones who did well took home their projects. At the end of class, I, being either arrogant enough or considerate enough, gave her all my assignments. I wasn't going to use it anyway because I decided I would be an artist. I saw her more recently and she was grateful for the work I left behind.

For some reason I thought it was a good idea to take a painting class at the craft store during the winter after high school, because I wasn't doing anything at the time. I was still reluctant about it because I had fiddled around with paints on my own and thought what I made was fan-tastic, even though in retrospect it wasn’t that great. The woman who usually taught that class had left to teach at a better place (or to live on a nice farm somewhere), so they had an old man come to teach the class. He was a landscape artist. The class was simply titled oil painting. I painted generic landscape over three hour long classes. From that class I got a vast knowledge of how to paint clouds.

Also, I didn't learn how to build canvasses until college. . . That's another story, so this is all you get, for now.

Part Two: Painting

Thinking about the beginning is the easy part. This already happened and I know the outcome of this period of time. It’s the here and now that gets more complex. Here is the abridged version of my beginnings of painting.

The year was 2007 and it was the summer after high school. I had only had a quarter's worth of general art lessons in high school and I decided to try my hand at making paintings of in my very own way. I had been told how colors mixed but didn't care to remember. I purchased a set of acrylic craft paint, a standard set of numbered paintbrushes, and a package of three canvass boards to work on. I even had my very own apron made of what seemed to be canvass.

In the sunshine of my backyard, I mixed colors out of the primaries: red, yellow, blue, black and white. I painted things I wasn't able to try in high school with as much paint as I wanted. I gave myself as much space as possible covering the table I was using with newspaper. I didn't have an easel because they were expensive (but that's another blog) so I either painted flat or held the canvass in my hands. This was a delightfully messy process.

Cat Painting 2007

I favored the thicker brushes over the small ones and ended up sticking to two or three at a time. The great thing about it was I didn't have to paint for anyone. There were no assignments to paint flowers. I could make things abstract. They didn’t have to stand for anything. Looking back, I would consider paintings like this a beautiful stutter before learning to speak. (Abstracts can be greater than what I started with, but these days I’m learning a language of color and figures and forms. Maybe one day I can go back to abstraction, but not now.)

I worked on this surgery painting from sun up to sun down one summer day, then for a few more hours with the porch light on. It was based on a dream I had. I was going completely off memory/imagination. I didn't know much about faces at the time. Nobody wanted to sit for me to draw them, so I generally avoided faces. I worked on how the light should have come from the source, shown in the painting. It was a clown doctor with green hair. I modeled his hand after my own and his lamp after my own and imagined the light. I used odd colors to indicate that it was MY painting. (If you’re into having things the color they really are, that’s your business, not mine.) I am glad I worked so hard on it, my first “study” and am even gladder I kept the darn thing long. I get a kick out of looking at it now. Studies are important, you know.

Dream 2007

After that I had decided to paint on anything and everything. I painted on Christmas wrapping paper. I painted on cardboard. Real canvass was scarce because I didn't have the cash for it and I had no idea how to make it myself. I painted with my fingers, mixing directly on the surface I was using. I came up with so many colors and didn't care exactly how I got them. Everything was by chance. Everything was intuition. Everything was a delightful mess. (I have since learned reasons for things and am working on the cleanliness part as well, although there’s nothing like paint on your hands.)

Oriental Sunset 2007

It was a great feeling. No one else I knew could or wanted to pick up a paintbrush. No one else I knew could create. Sure, there were people in my life who used to make art; people who used to draw but didn't anymore. (My Dad even drew a bit in college, although I don't recall him drawing much in my lifetime. Let’s not speculate on that.) There are plenty of legitimate reasons artists have to stop creating. I have no intention to stop.

For me, painting was freedom and I loved it. I still do. These days I live and breathe art. I wake up to it every morning and yell at it to leave me alone at night so I can sleep. Back then it was hobby-like, but its importance grew. I’m so glad it did. Of course I wasn’t thinking of that when I started, it was just for fun back then.

A Rant on Studies

"And in the middle of the night... when I least suspect it... when I’m fast asleep, I wake up and make some more art because I haven't made any in how many hours?" -Yours Truly

Sometimes I like to think of paintings as research papers, because, after all, a picture is worth a thousand words. When writing a research paper, one must use references and do research. In school one studies a subject to learn something for a quiz or test. In art, studies help collect information for the finished piece. For a painting, I lookup what certain things look like, from either photos or, if I have a subject available, I make sketches from real life.

On the Spot Studies:

When I have an idea I usually use whatever paper I have closest to me. From doing this so much, I call it more of an itch to draw. I try carrying around a notebook and pen everywhere, but sometimes forget it and end up drawing on the back of receipts, or envelopes, or cardboard, or even napkins.

Coffee Shop Couple on receipt paper

One night I had a dream and wanted to remember it. It wasn't something I could study from life. I drew the idea over and over until I could remember every detail and those themselves became studies from memory. Although the last one was finished, I still would like to do it again to see if it can get any better.

Drawings from Memory for I Dreamed of Rampage

Studies for I Oughta Know:

In “I Oughta Know,” from Perogative at The Empty Space, I had to study apples, butterflies, and my own face and hands. The butterflies started as an image in my head. I drew the idea of a stomach with butterflies on the back of a business card of mine. Then I finger-painted my idea onto a smaller canvass one night to get an idea of the colors.

Butterfly Belly Drawing on business card

Regarding the apples, at the time I was eating lots of apples; at least once daily. I did some sketch studies of apples as I was eating them. When I plan on doing a study, I usually draw on paper that is actually made for drawing, but that doesn’t always happen.

One of my many Apple Studies

I had a couple apples as I was finishing up the painting too. Having a live subject to paint from helped make a better finished piece. I was able to see how the apple browned over time.

Apple painting next to live apple

Studies for Gir Hat Girl:

For the painting “Gir Hat Girl,” I made myself study the figure several time from a single photo. I drew her face once to think about the shadows of her face. Then I painted her several times on the big canvass I was making a composition on. After I didn’t get the effect I wanted, I sanded down the then thick canvass and painted it white to start over. After that I did five painting studies on separate surfaces. I used whatever I had that would hold the paint. One was on a piece of paste-board. The next four were on old canvasses I had. These studies were for a quiz I made for myself: the final painting. I didn’t get it quite right on my quiz that I timed myself on, so I took a short break and painted it some more the next day. The studies sure helped.

Painting Studies before finished painting

General Studies and Improvising:

General studies can help an artist make a visual vocabulary and help technical skill. The way I drew apples over and over again to get a few good ones, drawing other things, “studying” other things, can build up a visual vocabulary to make more complex compositions. When exercising, you don't just do one pushup and say you're done doing pushups for the rest of your life (not if you want to stay fit anyway). In the same way an artist needs to make lots of "studies," ie drawings, sketches, and practice paintings before making the actual thing.

I find it best to get out the idea when it is first thought of, so its best to always keep art supplies around, even its cheap paper and crayons. When I want to make large drawings I put together lots of regular pieces of paper with tape on a wall and just draw things out.

Drawing on collage paper on door

When exercising, you don't just do one pushup and say you're done doing pushups for the rest of your life (not if you want to stay fit anyway). In the same way an artist needs to make lots of "studies," ie drawings, sketches, and practice paintings before making the actual thing. General studies can help an artist make a visual vocabulary and help technical skill. The way I drew apples over and over again to get a few good ones, drawing other things, “studying” other things, can build up a visual vocabulary to make more complex compositions. 

One might say general studies, say on anatomy or architecture, are what drawing classes are for, but that’s not always necessary. All you need is a subject. Subjects can be found sitting in a bar, or at family functions, or in your own home. Or if that doesn’t work there are books with pictures to draw from. The great thing about owning books is that you can write, or in my case, draw in them.

(left) sketch, (right) photo

Let’s not forget magazines and the internet are also usable sources for art studies. There is plenty in the big world to make studies from. Studies can be beautiful, ugly, playful, frustrating, informative, therapeutic, or stressful. Studies can end up being a complete work in itself. Studies can be thrown away once the project they are for is completed. No pressure, OR  YES PRESSURE. Anyone can do it. The materials used in studies don’t matter, the act of studying and LEARNING from those studies is what matters. It’s the people who do studies over and over and over and over and make a great finished piece based on that who are the ones that create something worth all the effort.