L. Joshua Goodman’s Art Blog

November 25, 2009

Resisting the Urge

A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery, author and aviator (1900-1945)

The Urge to Do Something can be powerful.

But good practitioners of any discipline are skilled at stripping away frivolity. The famous dictum, Occum’s Razor says something like, “Whatever doesn’t support, detracts” (that is not an exact translation, but it is an accurate translation). In Hebrew they say, “kol mosif gorea” which means “additions diminish”.

At the risk of violating the above principles I’ll tell you what brought this to mind. I just pulled a print. It’s the second state of a small plate that I took with me to a hillside not far from where I live. It’s located above the Sataf Spring just outside of Jerusalem. I drew out the landscape, the hills cascading one behind the other and the hungry sky above. I etched and printed it last week, but I felt it needed some atmosphere, some depth, so I did a few things (involving spray paint aquatint) and today I pulled the second state.

I don’t know exactly what to do right now. The decision is to Do Something or to consider it Done. It might actually be finished, but, and this is crucial, maybe it needs more. There is more that CAN be done, but I’m uncertain if there is more that SHOULD be done.

Meanwhile, I’m resisting the Urge.

November 13, 2009

Turkish Tiles

In 1972 I went to Israel in search of employment. I stayed in a few run down youth hostels that fortunately were so old that they still had the old flooring from the previous century. Thus, I  discovered Turkish Tiles.

izaniTo see samples of original Turkish tiles, go to; http://www.bazaarturkey.com/tile.htm or http://www.rugart.com.au/about_tiles.htm (image at right: samples from rugart.com)

What I found so fascinating was the nature of the design. Mostly, they were a single pattern that formed a greater whole when placed next to each other in an area like a floor or a wall. I thought how very much like Printmaking this could be.

You may notice that each of the designs in the sample shown (right) are actually four tiles. If you’re quick you can see the four quadrants that form the larger image. Each of those smaller quadrants is a design that is different than the bigger combined image. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

The nature of Printmaking is multiples — printing multiple prints of the same plate. This means that a large finished work could be made from a combination of prints from a small(er) plate. Very efficient.

This concept frees printmakers from the need to think in terms of editions. That is, each “work” is made up of multiples. If one “work” was twelve tiles then an edition of say twelve “works” would be 144 individual impressions.

It’s probably already been done, but if not this would be a first. (I love a sentence like that…please accept my apologies!) I’ve never seen anything like this before, but you never know. Probably somewhere somebody has already come up with this idea. However etchings have heretofore been printed as sets of deliberately limited numbers (to hold value), sold either as a whole edition of individual prints or as single numbered prints (each one an original). But no longer! As of 1972 a single print is a mere building block in the making of a greater work.

In any event I find the idea of Intaglio prints as building a greater whole from multiple prints to be engaging. Of course the decorative floral designs of Moslem culture are not the only designs susceptible to this technique.

Pianos for example can be given this treatment. Or even a Community of Faces (see my website and other posts of this blog for examples).

October 17, 2009

Improvising and finishing

We had a very interesting conversation over dinner dinner last night with a very interesting gentleman, a concert pianist and composer.

Finished Painting

The first interesting thing is that during the day I had been thinking about “How do you know when you’ve finished a painting“. I’m not sure anybody knows the definitive answer to this. Of course some painters have a fixed goal in mind and they paint until they reach that goal. Like paintings on black velvet of bullfighters and puppy dogs or certain seascapes. But for most artists, the exercise of seeing is never quite totally consummated. Except when it feels good. Or when it feels that there is nothing more that one can do. Or undo.

Improvisation

So during dinner the subject of musical improvisation came up. I suppose I was trying to make the point that plastic art was superior to music in that the performance may be sublime and profound, but simply lasts for only one performance and then is lost. On the other hand a great painting can be seen again and again. My pianist friend told me several very interesting things. First he said that sometimes Bach and Mozart would indeed write down later from memory what they had improvised. He further said that all the great composers were great improvisers and found it helpful in their work.

And then he said, “Painters are improvisers too. The proof is that they never finish a painting!” I was mightily impressed by this. I know that Rouault was (in)famous for never finishing a work. He even was known to ask for a painting back after it was sold for a few finishing touches only to return a completely reworked and totally different piece! In graphic design Paul Rand changed the IBM logo (adding the stripes) two years after it was originally launched. He also reworked the UPS logo and asked the client to use his finessed mark in place of the original but was refused. The old was good enough. This is the visual equivalent of improvisation.

Improvisation is the technique by which artists (plastic artists as well as musicians) sketch; improvisation becomes a search for perfection. If not perfection, then at least improvement. Can anybody really say that they’ve done the best that can be done on any particular work of the moment?

I was criticized once in Art School for overworking my paintings. I still don’t know exactly what is meant by this. I have lost clients because I have modified the design after approval (and before final printing). To do otherwise would be personally irresponsible if not professionally derelict! Good clients know this.

It’s not overworking; it’s seeing more in the light of what has already been done.

October 10, 2009

The Story of a New Project – Day One and Day Two

17x17 paper squares P1010005
17×17 cm paper tiles

It’s not always easy beginning a new project. There is even an expression, “All beginnings are difficult”. I know that writers face “The terror of the empty page”. Probably most creative people know this feeling.

It takes me time to warm up; I start slow. The first day it took pretty much all day to divide my large parent-size sheets of Arches (pronounced “Arsh”) etching paper (roughly 50×70 cm / 19.5×27.5 inches). But by the end of the day I had two sheets cut down to 17×17 cm squares. I know this sounds simple, but I had to think constantly if this would work out properly in the entire scheme of things.

Then on Day Two of the project I made a grid for the piano. I needed to cut the piano into four pieces and position each fourth into a corner. I have done several of these in the past and each time, despite my best efforts and calculations, they never fit together right. So, as Harry said, “once more into the breach!

Piano-sketch-and-Tile-sm
Piano sketch and decomposition onto a tile

I began by drawing a piano. A Grand Piano at the angle I like, a three-quarters view from the right. Then I photocopied the drawing and divided it into four pieces. Then I placed those four quadrants into the corners of a predrawn 17×17 cm (6.75 inch) square and photocopied that four times. I need a minimum of four tiles to make one complete image in the center. As my finished work will be 12 tiles (four across by three down) this should give me at least six whole pianos. (Did I say that I will show you pictures soon?)

All this is a bit complicated. That’s why it takes me time to do these projects. Nobody likes to make mistakes (they cost money!). And it’s the old carpenter’s rule, Measure Twice, Cut Once. In the end, I think I should have made the tiles about three millimeters larger (about 1/8 inch). But I hope that all will be well, with perhaps a few adjustments as a I go.

That is Day Two.

Next Step in the coming days…

Next I have to draw and etch the piano tile and make four test prints. I’ll probably print one and photocopy the others. Hopefully it will all fit together and be beautiful. If not, I will make adjustments. And refinements. Until it is beautiful.

Then the final printing and assembly.

That’s another post.

October 7, 2009

The Story of a New Project/The Vision and the Process

This Hand and Piano project has a bit more background that I can share.

My daughter married recently and we gave her a large colorful etching that had been hanging in our living room. That left a hole in our living room. A colorful hole. To see the gifted piece you can turn to the Portfolio tab on the website and find “Aleph in Head Diptych”. (www.ljoshuagoodman.com)

Previously printed Hand on 17x17 cm tiles.

Previously printed Hand on 17x17 cm tiles.

So to fill that hole with a bit of color I thought that I could make this hand in various colors and then swap individual tiles to have several whole hand (and piano) prints made from different pullings in different colors.

A Mosiac of Color

For example say that I plan to pull a Green print of the hand, a Violet impression and a Peach color print. The piano will always be black of course. Or perhaps silver. Then I will take, say for example, tiles two, five, nine, and twelve of the Peach pulling and put them aside. Then I might take tiles four, five, seven, and nine of the Violet and set them aside. The Five and Nine of the Peach can go in positions Five and Nine of the Violet. The Two and Twelve of the Peach can go into the appropriate position of the Green and the remaining tiles go into the empty holes on the Peach and Violet.

I think it’s something you have to see.

Piano-sketch-and-Tile-sm

In any event I’ll show you images as I go along.

The point is that I get a multi-colored work. Or actually three multi-colored works. More if I have strength.

Four-Tiles-to-make-One-Pian

Be sure to write if you have questions or comments. I know this sounds complicated, and it is. The good thing is that YOU don’t have to do it, and I enjoy doing it. I enjoy thinking about things. Often it feels like a chess game. Pre-visualizing and checking the realization against the pre-visualized. Making adjustments for what in fact eventuates.

Energetic Art School Cheater

Actually in Art School (don’t tell my teachers), I would go in in the morning, squeeze my paints out onto my palette and paint for about 20-30 minutes or so. Then I would go to the cafeteria and play chess for about two hours. Then I would return to the painting studio and paint/clean up for a half hour. Somehow I got excellent grades. The comment from one teacher was, “I like the energy in your work”.

It taught me that what matters to art consumers is the result. The process belongs to the artist.

Be well.

October 4, 2009

The Story: Transfinity

Filed under: General Discussion — Tags: , , — Joshua @ 11:55 am

Transfinite-Red

I read once about the Transfinite. This print relates to that, and this is the story.

By definition the number of numbers is infinite. Start at one (1) and keep counting forever. And along with that, if you only count every other number (say all the odd numbers, or all the even numbers) you will also count till forever because these sets of numbers are also infinite. Moreover, if you count only the odd numbers you will have a list of numbers that is infinite as well. It will be smaller than the list of the count of all numbers, but it will be infinite.

Transfinite-Yellow-Sub-illo

Or take a line. Every second year high school geometry student knows that the number of points on that line is by definition an infinite number of points. If you cut that line in two, you will have two shorter lines each with an infinite number of points.

This idea that there are multiple infinities, sets and subsets of infinities, each complete and infinite is called Transfinite.

Transfinite is a number. And its symbol is the Hebrew letter, Aleph.

This print is printed from two plates. The interesting thing is that the most prominent feature, the Aleph, is the only part not printed. In otherwords, there is something beyond the edge of what we can know, think or do.

I’ve experimented with the color a bit. I like to get the colors as intense as possible, and intaglio printing is a good way to get intense color.

I like it when art relates to the infinite. Like in that Rembrandt painting where we are absolutely transfixed by the look in Aristotle’s eyes as he’s contemplating the life, and incredible stories of Homer.

Not that this is like that, exactly. It’s more like the numeral for that. If Rembrandt could paint an image as deep as infinity (or a subset), then I can make use of the symbol for that.

The Story of a New Project/Background

Where does an Idea begin.

I’ve tried to make it easy on myself. I have a running series that I am continually working with. It’s called “The Hammer and the Hand Series”. It gives me a framework to relate to.

Hammer-from-Hand-and-Hammer

As you can see from my website, there are several works that feature a hand (always my left hand) and a hammer. A hammer is the quintessential low tech tool. From the first time that man picked up a rock to pound a stick (perhaps a tent peg) into the ground, rather than using his bare hand, man has been using hammers.

This is, of course, an extension of the “Hand” series. This started because of two bits of information that came my way over the years. The first was when Miss Bennett (see previous post) mentioned that the best draughtsman in school has a thousand drawings of her left hand. So, since High School I have known that the way to draw well is to draw what’s close at hand. Literally.

Sketchbooks of the Old Masters

The other piece of intelligence that came my way was when I learned that the Old Masters had sketchbooks where they had drawn thousands of versions of hands in various positions. Then when they had a composition that required a right hand extended and foreshortened to the left, they just reached for their archive and pulled out the closest variant and they were good to go.

So my left hand, being close, serves as a model. And when I wanted to extend the idea, I turned to that First Tool and started the “Hand and Hammer” series.

Now it turns out that I have a plate from the old “Hand” days. Three years ago I started a new working of the old idea. Rather than print one large (it’s about 50×70 cm / 19.5×27.5 inches) print, I decided to cut the paper into tiles, each of which are about 17 cm square (6.75 inches). Then (and this is another unrealized idea from the past…like about from 1972, November) I decided to print these tiles as Ottoman or Armenian tiles where the single tile is not visually complete or even readable, but the whole coherent image comes from the joining together of multiples (and multiples is almost essentially warp and woof of printmaking).

The Hammer and the Piano

grand-piano-2021aExtending the idea of a hammer I decided that a piano had hammers and might be more visually interesting than a simple hammer. And a piano references another deep interest of mine, music.

Bartok said that the piano was a percussion instrument and the music he wrote with a piano part shows this clearly. The piano is banging and crashing. I believe he even specified that the piano should be placed in the back by the tympani. The reason the piano is so percussive of course is the hammers. Eighty-eight hammers at the tips of the fingers.

Amazing!

Like I said, this was started three years ago; I printed one printing of the “Hand” on twelve tiles each about 17 cm (6.75 inch) square. I drew, etched and printed a separate plate with a piano in the corners, but wasn’t satisfied. I put it aside to rest.

Until this week.

September 27, 2009

Visual Art vs Audial Art (Music)

I am a musician. I play in a band and we have a new disk. When I play at home with my wife, at times it’s almost conjugal! Music is refreshing and brings me into other non-verbal dimensions. There are things you can say, or places you can reach that are literally beyond words.

Drawbacks of Music

But music has one drawback. It’s ephemeral. Once the performance is over it can not be saved for posterity nor enjoyed in its fullness again. The fun, the enjoyment, the experience of music is over when the execution is over. Even if music is written down and played again, each performance is a unique experience. A performance by Bach himself can never be had again. His improvisations must have been unique and informative. But we’ll never get to hear Bach perform again. It must have been nice while it lasted. Now all we have is the written transcription. While still magnificent, it’s bound to be somewhat pale in contrast.

Plastic Arts Live On

But not so with plastic arts. Painting, or printmaking or sculpture is around for years and sometimes centuries after the experience of the creation of the work has passed.

So, the question then is “Should an artist put his efforts into what will last (the visual) or into the transient, but equally rewarding expression of music?” I don’t have an answer for this. But I know that I will continue to play music. Yes it’s temporary, but it is just sooooo much fun!

The Value of Music (and by extension all Art)

Einstein played music. He played chamber music on the violin. Of course he is known for other achievements. Perhaps it was the diversion that enabled him to think better in other realms. I suspect that this is what Art is all about. The ability to peer into worlds where words can’t reach, to see things that belong in other dimensions are what enables us to be able to “think out of the box” in our chosen fields of endeavor.

Robert Motherwell is reported to have said (reported by Paul Rand of all people!),

Most people ignorantly suppose that artists are the decorators of our human existence, the esthetes to whom the cultivated may turn when the real business of the day is done. But actually what an artist is, is a person skilled in expressing human feeling. . . . Far from being merely decorative, the artist’s awareness . . . is one . . . of the few guardians of the inherent sanity and equilibrium of the human spirit that we have.

Now … Back to the Music!

May 10, 2009

Thinking about The Jerusalem Print Workshop

I was thinking recently about something a teacher of mine, Sharon Poliakine, once said, “It’s interesting that in etching the plate is often more interesting than the prints pulled from that plate.” More about that statement in a minute, but first this brings to mind fond memories of my years spent getting back into Intaglio printing after a rather long hiatus. Arik Kilemnick has assembled a staff or bright, knowledgeable, and nice people. Sharon has moved on to other things now, but when she was there, she never failed to be understanding and encouraging. She taught from the head and from the heart. Someday I want to be a teacher like that!

In any event this line of thought started because of  a plate that I took out of the bath a few days ago. It made me glad to see those strongly etched lines jutting their chins out at me boldly challenging me to print them. I know this sounds a bit more poetic that even I would like, but there is indeed a certain challenge when one sees the plate after etching and before printing. Like in the old days when we would photograph something and then wait for the negative to be developed and printed. There is hope that all will be well (or better), but the reality is that sometimes it isn’t well. It may need more work, or it may need to be ignored and then more work. Or maybe just ignored…there’s nothing to learn from this one.

Once I did a book cover for somebody and used an etching. I thought I would use an itaglio print, but it turned out much much better to scan the plate and use that image for the cover illustration. A strongly etched line on a brass plate. I added a few hard-edge vector elements and it turned out very satisfactory.

The plate is more beautiful than the print. Nothing wrong with that.

Be well.

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