Descending Ashtray

Sarah and I visited my friend Sara Kennedy in Seattle this weekend, and ended up checking out two museums on the University of Washington campus.

At the Henry Museum, there was an amazing Maya Lin exhibition called “Systematic Landscapes.” Basically, it involved repetition of common objects to form perceived landscapes. The largest piece was a miniature hill made of 2×4 lumber stood on end, about 80×40 feet and probably 12-15 feet high at its pinnacle. An immense amount of wood, and very incredible to see. Sara told us that Maya Lin had intended visitors to the exhibition to walk/climb on the piece, but the curators had vetoed the idea. It was very hard not to. I think if I ever create a piece like that, I will insist on my vision. When you’re Maya Lin, I think you get to be difficult. In fact, I think you’re supposed to be.

There were several great pieces there, including another large installation of a segmented countour made of bandsawn and laminated MDF. The edges were so crisp, I can’t imagine how they installed it or moved it from place to place. It must have weighed a ton, as well. Very impressive, though.

On a much smaller scale, there was a great piece where she had cut shapes/contours from old atlases to create 3D lake-like depressions in the pages. Difficult to explain, but PBS’ Art 21 web site has a short video.

I got to thinking more about the exhibition later, and the artist’s responsibility to his work. Is Maya Lin required to personally install or supervise installation of each of her artworks forever? What about after she dies? You can imagine that as your body of work grows in number, installation/repair activities could take so much time it would prevent you from creating new work at all … especially when you consider that her works are literally all over the world …

I have always wondered how you cut your own mats. I feel confident I could make a nice frame, but never knew how to cut the mats. Now I just need to learn how to properly cut glass and I’m all set.

The Guardian has an interesting essay on what success does to an artist and his work. While I knew Picasso was very rich, I never knew Rubens was.

I have pursued success in art since I was very young, but I have never once thought about what I’d do or what it might do to me when I get there. Interesting. Discuss.

I have purchased custom frames from American Frame before, and always been really satisfied with the experience. They have some nice calculators that let you start with your artwork dimensions and add to it mat width on all sides, as well as figuring extra to fill in a frame. They ship you the dissembled frame by mail, and you assemble it and insert your artwork. Materials are high quality and always nicely finished. Highly recommended.

Today, I got an e-mail from them that they are starting a new service that allows artists to actually sell prints of their work through the American Frame web site. I haven’t signed up yet, but I assume you probably upload high quality scans/photos of your work to their site, and they in turn print out high-quality Giclee prints as customers request your work. Then, they cut you a check (price is whatever YOU set for your work) periodically based on your sales. I think you should try it out, Gabe! Some of your landscapes would be great, I think.

The home of John Andrews, featured in the New York Times today. I have always thought about living near Oxford if/when we return to the Midwest. I really liked the feel of that crumbling main street, with those big old brick commercial buildings. I liked John’s setup with the studio downstairs and home area upstairs. I think my studio needs have changed since I had those original ideas, but I do like the idea of a small town in Iowa filled with lots of different artists. Kind of like Stone City back in the day. A little Iowa nostalgia for the afternoon.

As an artist in Iowa, you can’t avoid Grant Wood’s legacy and all that carries. I went on my own pilgrimage to find the house seen as a backdrop in American Gothic, rumored to be in Anamosa, Iowa. Apparently, it’s been torn down somewhere over the years, but a false front has been added to a similar house to give it the peaked roof and cathedral window found on the original.

The Smithsonian’s Renwick Gallery in Washington is holding an exhibition opening March 10th entitledGrant Wood’s Studio: Birthplace of American Gothic. I wish I could see it. From the Smithsonian’s site:

This exhibition will, for the first time, present Grant Wood’s decorative art and design work within the larger context of his paintings, drawings, and prints. The exhibition coincides with the renovation of the artist’s historic studio in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, known as 5 Turner Alley, where he lived and worked from 1924 to 1935. Wood converted the loft of this turn-of-the-century carriage house into a showcase for his decorative arts work and a backdrop for some of his most famous paintings.

Sounds really interesting, and from my reading, it sounds like there’s a small sister exhibition in Iowa. You should check it out, and the drive is a beautiful one. Note the false fronted house, and don’t forget to stop at the brewery (update: the brewery is apparently closed).