December 13th, 2018 · 2 Comments
Lindsay Stripling is a San Francisco based artist and illustrator I really admire and whose work I’ve really enjoyed watching develop as she also made the transition to full-time illustrator. I admire is that Lindsay has stayed true to her own style and originality. I got to know Lindsay four years ago when she had a show on Buy Some Damn Art and this week we launched a
brand new show I’m very proud of featuring six of her watercolors. Below is my interview with Lindsay and some of the paintings from the show. Enjoy.
It’s been four years since your first show on BSDA! How have you been? What’s changed since 2014? What hasn’t changed?
Yea! I’m so glad to be back! I would say a lot has changed, but also maybe not much. I was looking at my paintings I did for the
2014 BSDA show, and I think it’s so interesting that similar themes keep showing up in my work. Back then I was relying heavily on photography and focusing on memory, but landscapes and the figure were still prominent, and since then I have set photography aside and have been really trying to create my own world and what I like to think of as a glossary of images and symbols, with more of an emphasis on illustration.
I have to ask – what is the story behind the painting All The Fridas?
A large part of what caused me to move away from using photos and try to create my own worlds was that I went on a road trip to see “In Wonderland”- women in surrealism at LACMA and actually ended up missing the show but I snagged the show book/catalogue and became somewhat obsessed with Frida Kahlo and Leonora Carrington. I have, like most people, always been a fan of Frida but I don’t think I really knew her work until then, and her piece Two Fridas became one of my favorites. It depicts two of her selves sitting side by side and connected by their hearts. I wanted to pay homage to that, but think more about women and female identifying people as a collective being connected. I love the duality in Two Fridas, the self reflection, but I wanted to explore and create thought about ourselves being reflected in others, and perhaps help us as women to lift one another up, rather than tear one another down. If we can see ourselves in the people around us, it can enable us to empathize more and realize that we are not alone.
It’s super interesting how the women figures in these paintings have trees, flowers and animals across their clothes, hair and faces. How do the themes of Return, Reflection and Vessel connect to these objects?
It is a similar idea to the interconnectivity of people like in All the Fridas, but instead focusing on the interconnectivity of nature and us, and seeing ourselves in nature and nature within ourselves. I live in the bay area and grew up across the bay from Mt. Tamalpais – which my mom always told me and my sister was named by the Miwoks and meant the ‘sleeping lady’ (this is one of those situations where upon reflection and with a little wikipedia, I now know is a little less straightforward than that, but isn’t that how it always goes) and I always thought about that. What if the earth literally is us? What if we considered the earth, the land, our living and breathing selves? Would we take more care of it? Our bodies are infinite ecosystems, and live upon and within another infinite, wilder than we could even imagine ecosystem, it’s pretty neat.
Folklore and mysticism appear to be an influence in your work. If nothing else just the connection between psyche and the natural world. Does this connection have a specific origin for you? A specific meaning?
The symbolic meanings of nature, of mother nature, of the connection between the wilderness and our own wildness have always resonated with me. I am so fascinated by our ability as a society to try and control and make sense of this magical natural world that is so much more complicated than we could possibly imagine, and I think the same is true for ourselves.
After taking a long hiatus, Buy Some Damn Art is back! Today we have a new show by Najee Wilson, an artist, designer, model, musician and personal friend. We met years ago working in the same wallpaper studio and hit it off from day one. Najee is one of the nicest souls you will ever meet and somehow finds ways to be creative and contemplative in every aspect of his life. It is a real honor to be able to bring Najee’s mixed-media art out of his Brooklyn studio for the first time and in front of an (online) audience.
The pieces I’m presenting find their inspirations in old world technique and craft such as marbling, fabric dying and kintsugi (the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with fine metals). Highly Viscous/Various Materials is a series of patch-worked objects and mixed-media fine art pieces that highlight decay and ephemerality. I wanted to show the beauty in imperfection and subtle variations in material and application. Each piece explores how beauty can be created by employing irregularity and free flowing chaos.
What do you hope comes across to online viewers?
That true beauty can exists in imperfection, the subtle otherness.
How did you end up working with such time-intensive, hands-on materials?
Growing up I loved working with my hands, really getting elbow deep into the creative process. These days I fill my spare time creating little tiny moments that I later string together in my art. I took to fabric manipulation, sewing, dying and distressing early on to add a unique look to the fabrics of my life. The patchwork leatherwork is inspired by the many quilts that my family matriarchs created. Those quilts featured found fabrics and were imperfectly pieced and sewn by hand with utilitarian mends in places. I loved that the years of use and mending became a part of their design aesthetic.
Why is making art important to you?
It’s all about raw expression, for me the act of creation is like a meditation. I find tranquility in myself during my creative process.
Your work flows in so many directions – music, modeling, design, art. how do you make time and space (and energy) for so many different things?
Every way in which I go about expressing myself brings me newfound strength and energy. Honestly, I just do what makes me happy. When I’m making art I am certainly not thinking about making art, my mind simply wanders. I feel that everything I do and have the pleasure of seeing inspires possible outcomes for my work. As a fine art muse, I’ve learned that the artist’s canvas is like the mirror that does not lie. Musing is a silent collaboration between artist and model where my presence, movement, proportion and gaze could inspire a masterpiece for said artist. This act, for me, is incredibly vulnerable and powerful, all in the same. To inspire, to be, to think, to do, to listen is what makes an artist. Every method of expression presents me with a new opportunity to learn something from myself all while sharing that perspective.
What’s next? or tell us about a fantasy project.
I am currently in the process of writing and recording new music which I am excited about. I am preparing to release a new single add music video at the beginning of the New Year under the moniker Taupe Sounds. Sonically my music exists in a R&B space, but I am influenced by many genres.
Kimberly Corday is a young artist living in North Hollywood, California. Some of her luxurious textiles and more subtle paintings from her Portal Series are available on Buy Some Damn Art. Below I ask Corday about her practice, how and why she makes what she does and what she’s up to next. Check out Kimberly’s show here.
Corday’s Portal Series
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You graduated from RISD in 2014. What kind of work did you make while in school and what have you been working on since?
Much of my education at RISD was centered around abstract figurative painting. I was looking at a lot of Cecily Brown and Abstract Expressionists but eventually hit a wall and wanted to dip my toes in something new. Senior year, my professor Laurel Sparks encouraged me to dabble in unconventional materials. What transpired was a completely invented process incorporating hand-dyed string and found materials.
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“My practice is rooted in the notion of an ideal natural world – a concept that marries
the spectacle of nature and the spirit of 18th century Romantic landscape painting.
Through a Frankensteinian process that borrows aspects of painting, relief sculpture,
and embroidery, I create textured objects that conjure up an amalgam of natural phenomena
like threadbare pelts, plumage, and patterns found in the wild.” – Kimberly Corday
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Pinkie (above), Beryl (below) and other recent works of yours are made with hand-dyed wool on canvas. How did you come to combine these materials and why?
After graduating, I stumbled across a sheepskin duster at IKEA (of all places) and was interested to take it out of context. I then dyed, distressed, and manipulated the wool in order to transform it into a lush, abstract wall-hanging reminiscent of say a threadbare pelt or strange, ancient relic. Thus spawn my practice as a fiber artist.
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What are you working on now? Are you experimenting with new materials or process?
I’m working on a series of wall hangings prompted by both my rococo aesthetic and interest in a Japanese textile tradition called “Boro”- meaning “ragged” or “tattered”. Stay tuned!
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In your Portal Series the predominant form is a circle. What do they represent to you?
It’s funny, I was noticing a lot of circles in my sketchbook around that time. The shape’s recurrence in my work is unconscious, but I’ve learned to embrace it as a representation of my curiosity in both literal and figurative portals. They’re openings meant to summon associations, sensations and emotions.
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Could you explain what a monoprint is?
Monoprinting is the process wherein a painting or drawing is made on glass or Plexi and rubbed onto paper. The image can only be transferred once- hence the name. It’s ephemeral, unlike most printmaking methods.
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Over on
Buy Some Damn Art there is a new show of six drawings by French artist
Camille Michel. The line work in Camille’s work is mesmerizing and speaks to the artist’s dedication to his drawing practice – spanning both his training and work as an architect and his personal work. For the artist music and art are always linked; in this series each drawing is inspired and named after a song.
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Where are you based?
I live in Paris for now, but I might move in the future, depending on the opportunities that lie ahead.
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What is your background in fine art?
I’ve no specific background in fine art. I studied applied arts in high school, and architecture for 5 years. I remember that I really liked the hand drawing part of the second year courses, which included a lot of handmade oblique hatching.
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How does your fine art practice fit in with your other pursuits in architecture and music / sound?
It’s working as an ensemble, very smoothly, and spontaneously. I don’t like to imagine things from within the structure of a specific field. Architecture works naturally with music, sound and graphic things. It’s only a question of enjoying oneself as an amateur. To remain an amateur in each field is very important! Maybe it’s also about leaving a silent trace (drawing / plan) of something immaterial (music / sound). Listen / Silent.
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What does it mean to you to identify as a child of the 1980’s suburbs as you mention on your website? How did 80’s/ 90’s culture and suburban culture influence your development as a creative person?
It’s also (and always) a question of what you enjoy, and how growing up in suburbia teaches you as a child to be in the space, to move, to play, to feel, to understand the geography and the borders between things, or with people. It’s not the same thing at all if you grow up downtown. Suburban feeling is a question of eroticism (and I mean that in a very different way from the suburban hype of today, because I have been thinking about that question since I was 15 years old). Colors, smells, sounds, rhythms are specific and strong, and teach you to be responsive with your emotions, with your body.
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The drawings in this series are all named after various songs. I assume the titles reflect what you listened to when making these drawings. If so what kind of music do you like to listen to when creating art?
The six drawings are named with the albums / bands I was listening to when I did each one of them. These pieces are samples of what I consider interesting, or good music (erotic music), with a lot of guitars, textures, loud sonic walls and catchy melodies.
I like to draw in a small format because I can do that on my desk just in front of my computer, listening to music. It’s a simple continuity between the different things I do everyday. I don’t want to produce things when it’s not the right time to do it. So, sometimes it’s drawing while I’m listening to good music, sometimes it’s making music after reading something good. Sometimes it’s writing. Everything is linked and continuous.
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Your works have a beautiful simplicity to them and are the product of very focused, refined line work. Are they as meditative to make as they appear?
I don’t know if “meditative” is the exact word, but I’m talking a lot to myself in my head when I’m drawing. It’s a pleasant self-reflexive activity. Somehow, drawing something useless (uselessness is important), and very laborious to do, is maybe as a means of find a state of boredom; something empty and boring, like a suburban afternoon during summer vacation.
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What other projects are you working on at the moment?
I’m working on a new series of artwork directly linked to the suburban district where I grew up, between memories, intimacy and documentary (photos, photomontages, texts, sculptures… ). Four new tracks of my band
Crème Fouettée will be recorded soon. And also different kinds of drawings, enjoying being home while listening to good music.
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November 20th, 2015 · 2 Comments
Greg Hart has exhibited twice on Buy Some Damn Art – we featured both his historical portraits of unknown civil war soldiers and his “modern” portraits of women friends and colleagues. Greg has a very specific, dreamy way with paint. Faces twist and meld under visible layers of paint and features are defined by pools of darkness. Greg is now exhibiting his most recent work so I decided to interview him about his portraits and the inclusion of photography in his latest show.
When you and I first connected you were painting portraits of anonymous civil war soldiers. In this new body of work your subjects are also unknown, based on figures you’ve captured in your street photography. Would you say there’s an allure of painting strangers?
Yes. Art should ask questions and start conversations, rather than explaining or illustrating something specific . The screenplays and movies that I love most – they start late in the story and end early, with limited exposition. That’s what I am going for – it lets the viewer choose their own adventure, rather than relying on a singular explanation of the work.
What do you look for when taking photographs out on the street?
Authenticity. The goal is to show the city the way that I observe it as a local. I remember walking onto King Street for the first time as a kid and it seemed magical – that never completely wore off and I want to share that eccentricity with people who might otherwise just associate Charleston with horse drawn carriages and brightly colored historical buildings.
The intro to your show references “a changing Charleston”. What is happening in Charleston today for those of us not familiar with the area?
Gentrification. But it’s more nuanced than that. The place where I used to have my studio is constantly in danger of being turned into a boutique hotel, for instance. Charleston has a lot of beautiful old buildings that are carefully protected but then you have cheesy shoe chains and pharmacies springing up. And it’s a port city, so you have industry growth, cruise lines, and skyrocketing property values – people who consider this place home are being elbowed out. But there are positive facets to the growth too – world class restaurants, cultural progress, and all kinds of events/festivals. The snake eats its tail.
How important is photography in your process? Do you paint straight from a photo or is there any manipulation or sketching you do before you start?
Photography has been pivotal to my painting from the beginning but that has morphed through the years. It has always been a springboard and a source of inspiration. But this year street photography grabbed me by the throat – snapshots are like a sketchbook for me. I’ve never had the patience for drawing and photography is so immediate and invigorating. I crop and manipulate the photos in Lightroom and Photoshop, then project a high contrast grayscale image onto the painting surface, the pencil outline has the appearance of a contour line drawing, and I use that as a free-form paint-by-number.
How long does it take to complete one of your portraits? Do you finish them quickly or do you sit tight and come back to them?
The painting itself is fairly rapid and happens over the course of a few days but the preparation is lengthy. I started taking this series of photographs in January and shot through October – there were thousands of images that I edited down to about 20. That’s why I named the show Minus Street – it’s a reductive process, with editing every step along the way, until I introduce color while painting.
This show includes a selection of your photographs as well as paintings. Is this the first time you’ve exhibited your photography? So far is your experience of exhibiting photography different than painting?
I studied Film and Television in college and have developed my own film and worked in the darkroom. And I’ve been immersive in my study of street photography lately… but in the end, I’m just an overly excited amateur photographer and it’s all in service of the paintings. Friends ask about prints and I don’t like the way that the layered bright colors of my paintings flatten during printing – so this allows me to share a part of my process without compromising quality – it’s like highly curated selections from my sketchbook.
Kayla Plosz Antiel is the latest artist to exhibit on Art Hound’s sister site, Buy Some Damn Art. Antiel received an MFA in painting from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design and currently lives in the greater Washington D.C. area. Her square paintings with their bold colors and texture are fresh, playful and approachable.
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Tell us about your art practice
I paint in that sort of “call and response” method a lot of abstract painters share: making a mark, responding to it. Because I’m really motivated by color and the materiality of paint, my process is an ongoing dialectic between my initial and intuitive bodily response to color and texture and my more heady or logical decisions regarding form. I’m always working on a thousand paintings at once, continuously building up surfaces. Yet, I often find myself reworking pieces I was certain were resolved. It’s a frustrating process. Newly primed panels make me uncomfortable, so I tend to rework existing paintings until I have to begin new ones.
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What inspired the paintings in this show
My respect for classic forms like still lifes combined with my interest in color and abstraction. At least that was the starting idea—my paintings sort of take over as I’m working.
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How has your work changed over the years? Have you always worked abstractly
This is a tough question as I vacillate between abstraction and representation. I’ve been painting abstractly in one form or another since undergrad, but I’ve always maintained an interest in representational work. In graduate school I used suggestive representation to confine or limit my abstract work. I often began with a concrete form which tended to become more abstracted through the process. I do see myself slowly coming back around to a more pure representational mode of painting, but there’s something exciting to me about working in the space between.
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What keeps you going as an artist
I’m inspired by the exciting new work I see coming from other artists, by discovering new things or new ways to see old artists, and through watching the ever-changing, always new ways my son discovers the world each day.
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