johnfirestone.com Blog

Preoccupations with breads and circuses

2006-09-08T06:52:10Z

My writing on my Iridescent Art News is good. I know it is better than most of the crap I read. Most of the non-confrontational coke commercial bullshit that passes as art writing. I don’t ever want to be an art reporter – I am sick to death of just reading about art. Never once did I make a painting in a happy state of mind – although the end products always made me happy. I always work in a state of anxiety and passion, and I want to write the same way. Iridescent Art News has flashes, and this blog has a few gushes of what I am talking about.
Most people don’t take the time or effort to read my works, and it is the same when people come to see my work in galleries. There is a rawness that is uncomfortable and unelegant. There is a thought process behind each work that is confused and chaotic – and that’s the way I like it. Decisions are tough and making a work of art deals with making decision. Visions and revisions which a minuet will reverse. To hell with clearly thought out theories on art. To hell with clear vision. To hell with nicely packaged pills that slide down your throat easier to make you forget the pain.
What pisses me off the most is that the floaters, the advertisers, the commercial makers of the art world, the ass kissing back scratchers, are the ones in the loop. They make the loop an exclusive place where one has to do a lot of fake flirting to get into. And here I sit as I always have. A little to passionate and aggressive for most people to deal with. But that doesn’t mean my work is not worth looking into. I know what you see in me, I look at myself through your eyes all the time, I calculate moves, moods, and attitudes. And I am always ripped off. Within weeks after I produce something new people are ripping me off and passing it on as their own ideas – it happens all the time and I am sick to death of it all. I am not part of the club – but that same club rips me off and profits from it in their circle of back patting. Not much is more aggravating.
So here I sit exercising demons. My demons are so fit from all the exercising I give them that they could win Olympic medals. I will see how long it takes for someone to try and rip that line off from me in some way or another – because it always happens. So I know I got the goods as far as talent, vision, and passion go – and I am getting closer to that “voice” everyone talks about. You rip-off artists, you circle jerking never-will-be’s, you shits; when you do finally realize the “voice” of my art you will be to weak to ever imitate. You better keep your eyes open so you can talk about it when it passes you by.

8-20-06

2006-08-20T19:09:41Z

As much as I like writing my other blog I am quickly finding out that I can’t be as quick witted or hot tempered there. There is a certain amount of respectability I want to maintain with that particular blog, for the kids if nothing else, but this blog will be important for diaristic reasons. Mainly to vent about the sorry start of the art in my local area. The Pennlive blog is me trying to use some positive reinforcement and nickel words with a folksy delivery. This blog will I hope be a little more raw and – unapologetic. So I am going to continue to write here as well – because I do have many opinions but also a delivery system and sheer force of will that is uncontrollable in certain circumstances.

I guess what pisses me off most about this area is the total lack of respect for true thought, not the superficial musings of the remaining bullshit beatnicks who sit around spouting wannabe truisms and nodding in agreement if something said remotely resembles articulation.

Cool art is those works that are provoking and not dependant on shock value to shake perceptions. Cool art is that where technical intelligence matches underlying messages, either known or subliminally extracted by an artist sensitive enough for the task. Cool artists are ones wise enough to take in varied information from all walks of life and scrub that information through their own value systems to come to their own conclusions. That is called respect, that is lack of egotism, and egotism is the scourge of good ideas and cool art.

I hear some people saying – if you write a blog isn’t that a form of egotism? Well – this blog may be a rant/vent but it is also a platform for trying to talk about ideas with something resembling honest inquisition for personal development. In the respect of taste I will, for now, refrain from flaunting my own ego on the bathroom stalls of the internet until such a time as I have a sufficiently permanent marker. That day will come – through force of will.

New Blog

2006-08-03T03:04:56Z

I have recently signed with PennLive.com to write a blog for thier entertainment section. It will be an art based Blog. This blog will be mostly dormant for the time being. Please check out the other Blog called Iridescent Art News at http://www.pennlive.com/entertainment/iridescentart/blog/

New Paintings

2006-07-19T16:43:51Z

There are new pictures on my website www.johnfirestone.com

They are primarily of portraits and still life’s from my new 4’s series where I am painting the same subject 4 different times and displaying them together. Sometimes Velasquez is my subject and I jump around from portrait to portrait. It was fun – and I learned a lot. I would appreciate feedback. My wife Nadia will also be showing with me and she has a great new body of work to show off as well. I don’t know what I am supposed to be learning from these series and I don’t know why I have to paint them – but there is something there for me even if I cant describe it artistically just yet. These last two series are leading me in a better direction to my goal of one day being able to make great art.

The Culturegrrl.

2006-07-15T17:22:38Z

Lee Rosenbaum is an awesome art voice. Her delivery and her methods have the sound of tremendous wisdom and wit. I wish I would have learned about her sooner and I suggest that anyone who has interest in art and the art world and even art gossip should read her blog. She’s good! http://culturegrrl.blogspot.com/

One Red Paperclip

2006-07-11T20:58:34Z

The success of One Red Paperclip is amazing. This experiment goes to show just how amazing the internet is for the transmition of ideas. One man with an idea and a little internet knowledge traded one red paperclip up and up for different items until they got a house and land. It is one of the most amazing experiments in a long time. People wanted to be apart of this phenomenon, they wanted to buy into the same concept of trade. There was no money transaction. Everything was for a trade. With some vigilance and some novelty one red paper clip can equal a whole lot more. The idea of bartering is not a new idea – but it has grown out of favor. No one else can easily do the same thing – even though it was not easy for the author to do this anybody trying to follow suit may find that it is a once and done thing – the novelty is worn out. Then again, if one can make the novelty new again, with a new twist or new idea, and spread that message out to a vast section of the information attached world – who knows what could happen. This man may have gone further but his concept was to trade up to a house – and he did. Congadulations on a fun ride, it was a vicarious journey for me.

My lust for Elizabeth Peyton

2006-07-09T17:15:21Z

Looking at an Elizabeth Peyton painting is like eating candy with your eyes. It looks like she paints with melted “Jolly Ranchers.” I am in total lust with the surfaces of her paintings, and I think that she and many other are in lust with the subjects that she paints. Most things about her work are highly addictive. They are like the gourmet versions of hard candy and tabloid press put together. The first painting of hers I saw was of Liam from the English band Oasis. It did not look like any other painting I had seen. It was at the St. Louis Art Museum. The colors, for lack of a better word, seemed perfect. I was drawn into this little painting and it haunted me for a long time. It did not look like other paintings, and it was so small in comparison to the giant Anselm Kiefer I had just seen in the other room.

I have been on a Peyton kick for some time now. I search out her works, I read gallery guides and whenever I visit a new museum I try to find them. I want to devour each one, or just lick them once or twice to see how they taste. I am addicted to the sugar high my eyes receive after looking at each one. The subjects are normally as saccharine filled as the paint. Not that the Prince of England is totally saccharine filled, but Peyton’s treatment of the subject is. Even though they are so small they carry such weight and power on a wall. A painting hundreds of times bigger is normally dwarfed in power by a regular panel of hers. A good example is at the Philadelphia Art Museum. Each time I go into the contemporary room I look for her one little painting, some person’s backside walking away, and compare it to everything else in terms of strength. Her paintings are so drippy with sweets I almost don’t want to look at anything else.

It is hard to reconcile the work that she is doing with the work of many of her contemporaries and influences. She is very influenced by David Hockney, but she is a far superior painter in my opinion, mostly because Hockney uses paint as a tool for a goal and Peyton transforms paint into the goal. My lust for Peyton’s work has not faded yet. I am still wrapped up in the intenseness and fluidity of her work. I am also attracted to her assertions that she wants to be like the subjects she paints. She seems to me a dreamer who by force of will, intellect, and talent, is making herself apart of a world she so desperately wants to be in. She is there for an artist like me, and I am learning the lessons she may be teaching to me. Her work is right on target. It is smart, sweet, strong, and totally addictive. Make life imitate art. Or at least one section of life given so much importance (stardom), that is really nothing more than an addiction for our world.

Narrow minded reactions.

2006-07-04T03:22:34Z

Misinterpretation and narrow mindedness can scathe a mans soul. I have always suspected that the work I decide to produce ends up being a little challenging and disturbing. Today I was talking about art – I pushed the conversation in that direction because everyone else was talking about football and sports and I couldn’t really contribute to that. So I pushed things in my favor by saying “How they hell can you tell me you don’t know who Richard Serra is yet you seem to know all about (insert some footballers name I never heard off.)” Well – one thing lead to another and they wanted to know what installation art was, so I gave a description of changing the environment to become a work of art. The person listening got stuck on the word environment – I had to do some re-explaining. He wanted an example, I gave him mine, I made a work in college about being a foster child. The center piece was a baby crib made out of rusty barbwire spread over with a cottony diaper material. The walls of the room were burnt paneling with scratch marks going to the ceiling. I sprayed the room with beer so it smelled like old smoke and stale beer. I thought it was a pretty powerful piece – but it was an absolute flop in college. Barely anyone went to see it and those who did dint seem to care. But I used that as an example – the person jumped to a conclusion that I was advocating putting babies into cribs made of rusty barbwire.

Well – it is a valid interpretation I guess, but one that is so far off the mark I didn’t think that anyone could be that simple minded. The person really jumped to that conclusion – I tried to explain that that’s not what it was about and that he should go to my website to see other examples of my work and then judge for himself. He said no, he didn’t have to, that that’s why we have the fourth of July. A jab at me telling me he already had my number, that I was a child abuser and all my work was about that, and he didn’t have to see it because he was a real American that wouldn’t stand for that type of work, me, or my website.

I don’t know how it got that far. I am not sure what I am supposed to learn from this event. I don’t know if I should not talk about art to save misinterpretations and totally wrong ideas, or if I should learn to stay away from peoples feelings. I don’t think I will do either – I think I am going to keep making what I feel needs to be made – and let narrow minded thinkers wallow in the shallow pool of stagnation. I mean – the man could have asked why right? He could have asked to see more information right? I am having a tough time dealing with that harsh of a conclusion based on little evidence and even lesser thought. I am having a real tough time with people jumping to conclusions on little thought. I hope I don’t do the same things. But maybe I did with football at the beginning of the conversation. Maybe I started it and then asked for it. I wonder if I bring this type of reaction on myself – I wonder if I really do want it sometimes.

Sam Gilliam

2006-07-03T00:04:29Z

About 6 years or so ago I was a youngish student at Murray State University. Sam Gilliam was a visiting artist giving a lecture about his work. I don’t know how Murray state got him but it was well worth it. Before his lecture I was talking with another professors who confessed to hating Gilliam’s work, since I looked up to this professor I made up my mind not to like him either. Sam is a tall man with a very easy and hypnotic voice, he is also very smart – which promptly made me fall asleep near the front row during one of his lectures.
I was awoken to the sound of a man saying “It moves.” Sam was talking about one of his paintings. “It moves.” A painting moves! When I woke up and heard that I wasn’t quite sure what was going on, if I did fall asleep or if I was just not thinking in his direction until that point. That one saying changed my life. Ever since that time I have not been able to stop thinking about him and his work. Moving paintings? I always thought paintings were supposed to sit in a box on the wall and look like a photograph.
I didn’t realize how wrong I was. This guy opened so many doors for me that my own thick headedness kept shut. I have been looking at his work ever since, trying to copy everything I can, learning from every work that I see. Recently I went to the Corcoran to see the Sam Gilliam retrospective. I was quite blown away by it and also very surprised at all the new things I learned by seeing his paintings in person. There are some of his works I don’t really care for like the black paintings although I have already learned a tremendous amount from them – but they don’t really mesh with me. But the draped paintings, the poured paintings, the Slat paintings (!) especially those Slats. If you have never seen one in person you just won’t get it. I am planning on writing every so often on a few different artists. Sam is going to be one of them. This is just my short little introduction. Sam Gilliam has a silly sort of profundity that I need to explore more. And those Slat paintings have haunted me for months now!

Slat Paintings and non acceptance.

2006-07-02T22:52:18Z

My slat paintings are now up in the second floor gallery. I have been working on this series for the last year of my life. I am so excited about it because it encompasses everything that I have been thinking in the last year or so. It deals with Matrices, Sam Gilliams artwork, the stories about Bryce Canyon out west, living cells – plant cells. They deal with control and freedom, hard and soft edges. Organic shapes in inorganic containers. They deal with issues of race and color, power and subtility. My goodness, they deal with so much at the same time.

They deal with so much for me – at least. I don’t think that anyone else is going to find any of these same issues when they look at these paintings. I think they are going to scratch their heads and ask why. I doubt anyone will take the time to think about any of this. I feel like I have just worked my butt off and lost sleep and wasted hours and hours of cutting, sanding, priming, painting, drying, repainting, drying, repainting, hanging, composing, assembling, figuring out how to make it travel safe, figuring out how to make it photogenic. I have thought of everything – but I have not prepared myself for this total let down. This total dismissal. My god I should be paining flowers and barns and creeks instead of anything that takes people out of their comfort zones. I have not figured out how to deal with this type of un-acceptance. All of us artist search for some type of acceptance – that’s why we makes stuff, to be seen, if we didn’t want to be seen ever we would never make anything. These works are expressions and I feel mine show more than a penchant for making neat looking things. I am really making social comments on everything from racism to Hitler, from communities to individuals, from hot to cold and everything in between. I thought everything was plain as day, I thought each image was universal. I thought that I had boiled down all my thoughts into readily acceptable, interesting, and easily digestible for the masses. Even the art people seeing my stuff barely make a comment. I don’t know what the hell anyone thinks about this work – if it is relevant or not. I don’t even get negative comments. Not even negative things like “I don’t like it because . . .” I get shrugged shoulders and dismissals.

These works were supposed to do more than be ignored. They were at least supposed to raise questions or provide some type of WOW effect since the surfaces have been worked for months and all the paintings are so large. I at least thought someone would comment on the sheer impossibility of making these things – I followed no template, no guidebook. My only inspiration visually was Sam Gilliam. I wonder how large the audience really is. I am feeling more and more like a wanna be Richard Tuttle and I don’t get all of his work myself.

This rant is for me. I drank to much coffee to try and feel more energetic about just hanging a new show. But the area doesn’t seem to respond well to most of my work. My Nocturnes do great, I am almost sold out. But the things that really took some genuine thought seem to never even whisper. Maybe it is the area or maybe I really haven’t found my way of working. Whatever it is making art has always been more about frustration, heartache, and letdown then anything else. I have yet to find acceptance.