An extensive post about painter Lennart Anderson, including an apppreciation by Susan Jane Walp and and interview with Anderson by Larry Groff and Kyle Staver. The post also includes several videos about the artist.
Anderson remarks "When I was painting in the 50′s I was into what I call 'kissing color', things that were so close that you could hardly tell them from one to another, hardly tell them apart, what they were… I was into that and you could have something that was orange or pink. Well, de kooning was into that stuff too… maybe I got some of that from that kind of painting. But that is what I was doing to some extent… You can’t say that (about my work as a whole) on really essential pictures like Barbara – no one would say that I’m cheating cutting back down (on a full range of color value) on her… but I am because there’s no black. This is something I take on, what is the word… like a religion. The way I’ve taken it… there’s got to be space in the picture so there’s no black, the black is in the tube – once it goes out it’s part of the room, as it moves back into the picture it can’t be black..so that’s something I’ve used as my… sort of a rule...You can’t have a black if you’re painting nature."
Zachary Keeting and Christopher Joy visit the studio of painter Lennart Anderson.
Giving a tour of his studio, Anderson discusses a range of topics from the painting currently on his easel, to a painting he has been working on for 30 years, to working in spite of diminishing eye sight. "The idea that my eyes are bad makes one think that you're going to paint like an expressionist or sloppy or something," he comments, "but I found it was just the opposite. I was closer to Ingres than I was to Soutine or Kokoschka... it's very intense holding on to the line that has been measured."
Tina Engels interviews painter Anne Harris about her work.
Harris comments: "I think painting is fundamentally perceptual. It’s experienced in a sensory way. I don’t mean just seeing. Touch, movement, memory, imagination and emotion—all can be understood as perception, and all are involved when making paintings and looking at paintings. Painting from life, which I do, is another aspect of this. We each perceive the world differently: information passes through our senses to our minds, through our bodies to our hands, which then touch a surface to make marks that are specifically ours. That said, when I’m painting, I’m always looking at something. It may be that I’m just staring down the painting trying to figure out what it is, what belongs there, what’s next; or I may be looking at myself, or at a model or at other drawings or paintings in my studio."
Jennifer Samet interviews painter Jenny Dubnau about her work.
Dubnau comments that "there is so much editing when it comes to making any realist painting. The challenge lies in making a kind of poetry about the way things really are without straying too far. I don’t change the color or the details too radically; I hew closer to the truth, although I guess it’s all a lie anyway. At a certain point, I learned that the more resemblance to the actual person, the better my painting is. The more verisimilitude, the edgier the painting seems. Whenever I try to stray furthest from what was actually there, it doesn’t seem right.. I think in the contemporary art-world there’s a much-discussed suspicion of what we call 'skill' when it comes to contemporary painting, particularly realist painting. I find that to be a problem, because terrific art can look loose, tight, careful, or sloppy: there’s no one 'legitimate' style. Some people still project the whole history of academic painting onto representational painting made today. But sometimes, you look at representational painting and realize it is haunted by nothing, and that’s really exciting to me."
Painter Robin Williams reflects on Sylvia Sleigh's Annunciation: Paul Rosano (1975).
Williams notes: "I was first struck by [Sleigh's] somewhat naive approach to painting. She fixated on details, roving over a scene telescopically, describing textiles, hair follicles, or flower peddles with equal intensity. Surfaces seemed fetishized or eroticized, but playfully so. Perspectives were sometimes skewed or slightly flattened, revealing her desire to focus on parts rather than the whole. I noticed how this “naive” perspective, instead of invalidating the work, lent it a tranquil sense of painterly equanimity. Her pieces seemed indifferent to the visual hierarchy that defines space, distance, or remove. Sleigh’s eyes were an equalizing force and connected her with her subjects in a way that felt personal and political. In Annunciation, she observed the overflowing garden, the character of specific types of body hair and the minute flecks of light that unified the day. Each represented element seemed to be made from the same molecular makeup, striving to exist on the same plane."
Sharon Butler blogs about two exhibitions - Don't Look Now at Zach Feuer in New York (closed) and New Image Painting at Shane Campbell Gallery, Chicago (August 23 - October 4, 2014).
Butler writes that both shows "[suggest] that a renewed interest in traditional genres--portrait, still life, landscape--is thriving within the painting community... That galleries are positioning a new kind of painting to replace what they (and many critics) see as a tired form of abstraction is a salutary development and very different from the days when the objectness of Minimalism, performance, installation, and electronic media challenged painting."
Haber writes that the show "brings together the five paintings of the Altamira family... The Met has borrowed the oldest son from a private collection, the middle son from the Cleveland Museum. The father comes from the show’s co-sponsor, the Banco de España, and the mother and daughter from the Met’s Lehman Collection. The boy in red, though, is right at home. Regular visitors to the museum will know Manuel well from the silvery white of his broad collar, delicate sleeves, and bowed shoes, along with the broad sash around his waist. ... To Manuel’s other side, cats eye a magpie with tense black and yellow eyes, and one may take a moment to spot the third and darkest cat lurking behind. The boy keeps the black and white bird on a string passing through both hands, with the steady raised arms of an impresario."
Gayford writes: "The new work is, as the title suggests, all about layers. In several ways this marks a departure in Saville’s work. Oxyrhynchus was an ancient Egyptian rubbish dump, a place where precious papyri survived for millennia in the sand. These pictures, though, are more about layers of bodies: different people, different poses, different moments and movements all piled on top of each other... In the past, Saville has painted the effects on the body of surgery and accidents — as if to replicate the distortions of 20th-century art, but in bleeding skin and muscle rather than fractured cubist planes. These recently completed pictures show a shift from trauma to sensuality."
Jackie Wullschlager reviews an exhibition of work by Celia Paul at Victoria Miro, London, on view through August 2, 2014.
Wullschlager writes: "Large-scale, intensely concentrated, pared-down self-portraits and portraits of her four sisters contrast with small, luminous, hazy depictions of bastions or symbols of (male?) establishment power: the British Museum, St George’s Church at dawn, a comically abbreviated, golden, phallic Post Office Tower... The portraits, rigorous but loosely, freely painted in delicate white-grey-brown tonalities, also turn crucially on light effects. Sun streaming into the studio at varying hours and seasons – London’s pale wintry light in a new monumental portrait of Paul’s sister Kate; rising and waning summer brightness hovering over Paul’s own gaunt, taut features in five 'Self-portraits' made monthly from June to October last year – marks time and its passing, while an inner glow emanates from each figure."
Shreya Sethi reviews the exhibition Margot Bergman: Greetings at Corbett vs. Dempsey, Chicago, on view through July 19, 2014.
Sethi writes the the show "features brash and vigorously emotive neo-expressionist paintings. Large flat female faces with rough features and tense expressions stare directly at incoming viewers from some of the paintings while others exist as perverted, almost violent still-lifes of abstracted flowers and patterned wallpaper... The bold directness and volatile energy of the paintings conjure the rough aesthetics of children’s drawings, while maintaining self-aware and complex psychological depth."
Edited by artist Brett Baker, Painters' Table highlights writing from the painting blogosphere as it is published and serves as a platform for exploring blogs that focus primarily on the subject of painting.