Stepping Out

“When I start to draw, or paint, or sculpt, it’s like I’m taking a step out of this world and entering a new universe. There, my imagination is boundless, and the unexplored is infinite.” ~Johanna Tomsick

I have been privileged to have spent the last two decades working with an amazing community of people at Beaumont School in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. It is my home away from home, the place where my studio lives. In exchange for an incredible working environment, I get to work with young women coming up in the world with the eyes of an artist. I work primarily with high school juniors, and occasionally the seniors, getting them started with painting in oil, pastel, charcoal or pencil. We work with understanding these mediums via different projects including portraiture, the still life, and the landscape. Along the way, I also try to answer their questions about what I’m doing and have done, as honestly as I possibly can. Deciding upon a life in art is not an easy thing as I always say, but it’s definitely a fulfilling life. What I hope to impress, is more of an appreciation of what a creative  life means, no matter what path they choose to follow. Being ‘an artist’ can span all career choices.

I have been touched by every single student, in some way. Whether it be their shy smiles, their quirky and funny ways, their heart, their work ethic,  or with a few, an uncanny ability to truly grasp the path. Johanna Tomsick is one of these. She embodies what I hope every adult will come to know about the wonder of creativity – in their lifetime. Already she gets it, at her young age. It took me…how long? Scratch that. I’m still trying to figure it all out.

Here is a portion of her personal statement written as part of her final senior project:

“Nothing gives me satisfaction quite like art. People call me a perfectionist when it comes to drawing and painting, but it’s because I relish the process that I can expend so much time and energy on the little details which, to other people’s eyes, seem insignificant, but to me are jewels of discovery.  For a long time, I’ve used art as a medium through which to explore the surreal, the infinite, and the unknowable.  There are things about our world -the origin of life, the stars, and universe, emotion, and God- which captivate me with so much force, I can’t resist discovering them.  Art is like a metaphysical atlas that helps me make some sense of the unknown, and what’s more is that I can share my wonder with every person who looks at my artwork.”

How often do we as adults get bogged down in the mire of life in all kinds of ways?  Even those of us who have created our careers in art, yes, the career choice that lots of people question and can indeed trip us up with it’s challenges. So what I say!  Those challenges are one little step along the path. Yes, they can become boulders, but only if we let them.

For me, the process is the magic.

The end result is what I share with others. The true gift to myself,  is in the doing. The learning, the expansiveness that happens in the making makes it possible for me to step back and share it all, because I FELT IT. Then, I can let them all go..

So back to Johanna… And did I mention she has some skills?

Johanna’s portrait of her brother in oil.

“Finding Neverland” Johanna’s final work at Beaumont. Mixed media.

“..I believe that I can change the world by creating art, or at the very least, change my outlook on the world.” ~JT.

Johanna Tomsick

And truly, all change we can ever hope for, starts with us.

Thank you for the reminder Johanna. I need lots of them, every day. All best to you and  your wonderful class of 2013.

 

Copper

I’ve just completed my first oil painting on copper and I want to share a bit about the experience of it. I’m so excited about finding a new surface to explore. Keep in mind, I am no expert. I followed the well laid out advice shared by Candice Bohannon Reyes, and Julio Reyes in the spring issue of Artists on Art. I won’t go into those steps here. Still learning as I go with paint in all ways. Why copper? Well, as I often say, “it looks cool!” I love the idea of working on a metal, something of the earth. The color is so rich, and my thought was to work with it, allowing as much of it to be as visible as possible.

The first step I did prior to actual full painting (after prep) was to seal the copper with a thin layer of medium to prevent oxidation. Now, in this case, I goofed a bit. I added an alkyd medium to my olegel mix and it became too thick, leaving brush marks on the surface that later became ‘alligator skin’. It bubbled in the thicker parts. Not good, but fixable. Phew. Here’s what it looked like.

I should have just used a very thin layer of Oleogel (from Natural Pigment) alone. Very little is needed to coat the whole piece. To fix this problem, I rollered the area flat after laying tissue on it until it was smooth. Lesson learned.

Then, I waited for it dry. And waited.

It was tacky for days. Being impatient to start, I decided to take a risk and dive in with the first layer of paint. Lo and behold it went down beautifully. Surprisingly well. Just the right amount of drag, not the tacky experience I expected. Who knew? Hours later, I was surprised to find that I was able to not only add texture, but also glaze, and scratch as well. When I paint on linen I often need to stage things more, building layers up slowly for fear of delaminating at some future date. On copper, those worries are not as big. The copper has already been prepared, and if I need to amend between layers I can do that, but so far so good with continuing on. And again, because of the beauty of the metal, I like the idea of that showing through over time rather than plain ole linen canvas. So what if in 2000 years they might find a blank piece of copper with crazy scratches in it. Great!

The other thing I found myself doing was reaching for the very best of my worst brushes. The Worst. Hairs splayed out the kazoo. Why? They were naturally layering the paint. Allowing for texture, for broken color. Love that.

Also, I was using very little medium. Hardly at all. No solvents. The paint was fluid enough without any amendments, except for areas I wanted to glaze with transparent color.

I came back to it after a day or so and spent 8 straight hours working. Again, all techniques covered. I was able to glaze over impasto areas with no problem, scratch some more, stain parts of the copper with a deeper hue to accentuate the color even more. The fun went on. BUT, the other surprising thing that happened…

The entire piece is only 12×18″. Do you know how long it’s been that I haven’t howled about working small? Very long. In recent years I insisted on working large. With this piece, I actually pulled up a chair, and sat down at a table easel. Wow, whole new world.

That experience alone is a miracle.

It also brought me back to my days of working in pastel. For whatever reason (again, I’m not an expert on copper) the paint acted very much like pastel. I was able to use a number 2 brush, and crosshatch layers of color the way I used to. I got fairly detailed around the face. There is a part of me that likes to pick pick pick….I don’t always appreciate that about myself, but I accept it nonetheless.

There’s room in a painting to have all sides of me covered, and that’s the main reason why I love to paint these days. It’s about fine tuning what I’m best at, while exploring what I don’t know. AND, nothing like trying something totally new to keep those brain cells firing.

And here you have it. My first painting on copper.  ”On the Wings of the Hawk”. oil on copper. 12×18″. ©stankakordic2013

Artists on Art

I don’t normally use this place for shameless promotion (that’s what facebook is for) but talking about this new online magazine is worth it. I have been poring over the articles written.

Artists on Art is a new model of magazine, where the artists themselves are doing the writing, complete with high res images. Topics range from their philosophies, to technical talk, and often their journeys in what can often be a maddening field. All for a very reasonable price. Give it a look. http://www.artistsonart.com

I am honored to have been included in the Spring issue.

Excavation Process

There I was. In the sunny cold of Cleveland wearing my trusty black parka, booted feet firmly planted in the snow. Face to face with a tree.

I must have looked a sight, if anyone cared enough to look out the window today. What was I doing you may venture to ask? Soaking it up.

I was never one to keep a sketchbook. In fact, I WAS the one who furiously filled up the sketchbook the night before it was due while in school. I always preferred to function without preliminaries. I still do. However, I’m finding another use for creating sketches. They are a way for me to absorb more, and ‘do’ more effectively. Not as a step by step to some finished painting, but as a method of keeping track of all the ways a mark can describe not only an an object, but a feeling.

I’ve put aside my figurative work for a short spell to focus on this. I decided to step outside and work en plein to start, and then to see where it takes me…well…usually back inside where it’s warm. (Not the die hard plein air painter that many of my artist friends are..)

I focused my attention on one area of the landscape. Truly, before I pulled out any tools, I literally did just stand there. I wanted to study it visually first, then, what the trees, the shadows, the light was generating in me. What I was hearing. What mood bubbled up, if any? I did not want to record everything literally. I know what happens to me when I do that, I zone everything else out and lose the WHOLE experience.  But that’s just me. I’m not an experienced plein air -er. Could be different for others.

This first sketch had me thinking about the power of this oak, and my immediate reaction was to use my fingers to describe the shape. That went down first. The lightness of the branches around it were like whispers to it. Notes of encouragement almost. Then, I looked at the entire boundary of the page, and made sure I placed my visual attention all around to see if it needed anything. I did three more studies after this one.

This is not the oak tree. I wish I knew what kind of tree. Anyway…Then, I had an idea about color. Dove into my stash of supplies and found the oil pastels, and a small 8×10″ panel. Made a few quick marks, and had enough outside. My hands and feet can work while numb for only so long. While inside, I looked out again and thought, ‘wow, so bright’! How do I create the feeling of brightness in a minimal way? I didn’t have an answer. So, I grabbed my tube of white and squirted a blob right onto the panel, which was already pre-primed with burnt sienna. Swished that all around to see how it would respond to what I layed down in oil pastel. Yes, something clicked. Used brushes, my fingers, the back of the brush to scratch, and added a few hits of the orange pastel and boom, there it was. For me.

That’s the key. These sketches, studies, should make sense to me first and foremost. I need to let go of the expectation of having it make sense to others. Maybe that’s what was tripping me up all these years, the critic I created in my mind that lurked behind every tree and in every person I ever met that viewed my work. There. I said it. Insecurities always exist for me, but that’s also what propels me forward. To explore, to try. To overcome. To be open to new ideas when it comes to mark making, to art making. Not too afraid of failure. I do it a lot. Every painting fails at some point in the process, but I get to pull out a few from the fire and have it make some kind of sense. If I stick with it long enough. Perseverance is the ticket to all things worthwhile I’ve learned.

I plan on doing this excavation more often. Could be wild.

If you’re interested in following my progress with these, keep track of my facebook page to see more updates of the sketches (and other news).

http://www.facebook.com/StankaKordicArt.

Beneath the Veil of a Red Sky

This post will address the technical aspects. The photos aren’t the best, but I’ll try to talk my way through them.

To begin, I started the piece by toning the panel with Earth Red. After that was dried, I started the underpainting with Paynes Gray, White, and Raw Umber. I get fairly detailed in a monochromatic underpainting with the portrait at this stage to set the focus for me. Trying to work out the major details in order to save time in the accuracy department at a later stage.

Next, I go in with local color with the background. This is a quick lay in of the background and her figure to give me a feeling of place. It will likely change over time. I’ve made sure to keep some of the color of the underpainting visible. The portrait is still staying minimal color.

I continue further with describing things. At this point, I like the streaks of orange as it works with the green, but am not sure how to keep that hot color prominent, without having it move forward too much, instead of reading as distant space.  Still thinking realistically. In a loose way. I’ve spent an appreciable time on the portrait. The colors I’ve settled on for this one are, burnt sienna, torrit gray, viridian, white, paynes gray.

Now I’m thinking about building texture. There are already 2 layers of paint down, that have dried. I lightly oil out with M. Graham alkyd, and begin with mixing a batch of green using the paynes gray, yellow ochre, white, olive green. Lots of paint, and using my old brushes, and some palette knife work. In addition,  I’m still not happy with that orange that now turned into coral somehow. Just like that, as if I weren’t looking. I didn’t like how I handled the makeshift dress,and decided to simplify it by making it black and nondescript.  I scratched a flower stalk of sorts into it, which was fun..but overall, ended the day not being happy with it.  I was ready to sit with it to see if it will work come next time.

Well, it didn’t. I was really annoyed.  It looked too sweet and candy colored. The paint is dry so I lay in a transparent glaze of raw umber to tone down the greens, and bring back the burnt sienna as a glaze over the coral color. It popped the background up some, and overall it was better, but still, eh.. After this stage, I stayed away for several days to clear my mind. This is where I have to break from my tendency to want to render the entire thing realistically, which is what I don’t want to do anymore with my work. I had a bit of a tantrum here. Then took this bad photo, sorry.. I chastised myself for even wanting to GO in that abstracted direction, making a difficult thing even more difficult. How you ask? It may look like I’m taking some shortcuts, and I suppose it’s true, but honestly, these non descriptive sections of my work are the most challenging. It becomes a dance of sorts. Of trying to balance the realism with the non representation. It either works, or it flops miserably. When it does, you don’t know why, or how exactly to ‘fix it’.

SO. I collected myself. For the record, each piece I’ve ever made has moments like this. Doubt. The only way to get through them is to furiously proceed. The worst that can happen is that I ruin a panel. There are worse things in the world. SO, back to it. I decided to do my usual and load up my brush with an offbeat color and drag it across an important section. In this case, the color was a cool gray mixed with the torrit gray, paynes and white. Used a wide brush across the top of her forehead. It looked like one of my veils, and that made me happy. (the meaning behind the veils will be another topic someday) Once I did that, I saw what else to do. Increase the texture on the portrait, and all around. I saw ways to minimize edges, and heighten others. The sky being red also came to mind. Suddenly the coral color I hated earlier wasn’t so bad once I put that vibrant red down. It had a place. Then it became another experience. Truly going with the flow and seeing things happen, that I either opted to follow or not. At the end of the day, I had it in a solid place and I left the studio in peace, knowing that just the finishing touches remained.

And here it is. 40×30″, oil on panel. ©stankakordic2013

Immersed

Someone once told me, the best way to study something new is to immerse yourself in it.

With painting, with life, I find this to be so true. It is a concentrated effort, an unbending focus that takes us to our chosen place in a more meaningful way. The idea being, the lessons will stay and become a part of you.

The last few years I have embraced this state of being more fully. It started with yoga. I thought I was starting a lovely relaxing stretching class program…next thing you know,  I was practicing several days a week, and uncovering thoughts I didn’t know I had.

I won’t bombard you all at once with my yoga talk. Suffice it to say that you may be hearing more about the influence it had/has on me as time goes on. (oh boy, I might be losing some of you now)

With this practice, my painting quietly changed. I became interested in the whole process, from the first concept to the last stroke. No part of the journey was rushed through, or taken for granted. Of course, not all of it is peace and bliss, every painting takes a lot of effort. What changed was my reaction to it. I slowly came to realize that I didn’t resent the work.

My recent painting, Anjali, is an example of all this. It gathers up these 2 elements of my life, and taught me things. I chose a pose that is difficult because I was thinking about the idea of finding serenity when we least expect to. Every situation has that still point. How can I say it in a painting? The pose is typically the start for me.

The stillness of the figure is in stark contrast to the activity of the paint. I ‘worked’ to achieve a lot of texture. Furiously flinging paint around.  Then I stopped. I thought it was finished. NO. It needed another level of experience. Something I’m not comfortable with. Lots of paint with a large sheet of plexiglass used as a brush. Immersed and totally freaked out,  I was determined to try it. To be there with that unknown result. I dragged that plastic across that painted figure screaming.

OK, so it’s not rappelling down Mt. Everest.

Every bit of my life can be this way. Every bit. Washing the dishes, driving the car, visiting a museum. Having a conversation. So much can change with that sense of being connected, and totally aware of what is happening.

I know most painters don’t dive this deeply into analyzing their creative life. But what do I know. They may have piles of post-it notes tucked under their couches with their thoughts jotted down. Alright. Maybe not.

I’m grateful for the gift of immersion in my world, and being able to express these random insights with you. I truly appreciate your patience in allowing me to share. I want to be as open as I am able with my process, and the meandering road of my  thoughts are hands down, the biggest piece.

Happy New Year!

50×40″oil on panel. Copyright StankaKordic2013

Earth Bound

I recently read an interesting tidbit of information that I never knew. This may be common knowledge, but I make no claims to knowing common knowledge.

Anyway. Did you know that astronauts in their thirties can return to Earth with the bone density of people in their seventies? This from Parabola Magazine and the article, ” A Conversation with the Elements” by Mark Nepo.  ”Just as  too much gravity is oppressive and crushing, the loss of gravity doesn’t free us but causes us to atrophy and disintegrate at an accelerated rate.  Paradoxically, the only way to make it through the weight of the world is to stay in the world.”

What does it mean to ‘stay in the world’…besides the obvious, walking around in it?

This has been my latest mind bend.

In recent weeks and months, I’ve noticed a delicate shift in the art I see on Facebook. The themes are very much nature driven, whether they be the straight up landscape, or earth inspired messages. Or, they are figurative works of everyday living. Simple grounding activities.

In addition, my dreams have begun to change in the same way. They used to be situated in urban settings. Now,  I’m seeing myself as an actual living tree (ok, maybe that was influenced by my tree of life piece) , or I’m easily speaking with animals, surrounded by birds, walking into oceans, all while remaining perfectly calm.

As artists, are we finally letting go of the need to ‘reinvent the wheel’ when it comes to how we express ourselves? Are we beginning to notice the goodness in our world, rather than hammer our viewers with the blight, or the ways we fall short as humans? I for one hope so. Not to say that artists have to create in one way, but I personally hold to the soapbox that Art’s greatest contribution to society is in how it elevates us. Whether it be through the wonder of the imagery, how it was made, or what it shifts within the viewer.

I’ve discovered that when I stay in touch with how the earth binds me  to this moment, and travel from that place into my creativity, the whole experience from start to finish is more satisfying. This includes all those crazy ugly stages a painting will go thru before the final zings of the finish.

“If you don’t become the ocean, you’ll be seasick every day.” – Leonard Cohen.

This will be my last post of the year, thank you for stopping by to read these rambling endless musings. I truly appreciate it!

May your holidays be filled with Peace.