An Interview with NELSON SHANKS: Extraordinary Realistic Painting with Humanistic Depth

Nelson is an extraordinary realist painter whose collections are cherished all over the world. He has generously shared his skills and interest with others by  founding, Studio Incamminaiti in Philadelphia to teach the rigors of realistic painting.

 

Your sensitivity and inclination to art showed itself in your early childhood years: “I started painting when I was 5.  Did your parents encourage your passion for art? Were they creative individuals?

My mother was a pianist, so I was listening to great music all day long as a child and even now.  And my father left for World War II, and in preparation for coming back, he bought an oil painting set for himself. I, at age five, promptly used it up.

And so, I would have been 5 when I did the first oil painting. Maybe not exactly what the average child would do because I was very interested in space and light and shadow and a few other things. 

He also bought my mother one of the better coffee table books of that time; of course, they’re nothing like the ones now.  It had illustrations of some of the great artists from the Early Renaissance on through the Impressionist, maybe even Post-Impressionist.  It was about an inch-thick book, and I pretty much wore it out--just fascinated by the paintings. My favorites were, at that time, a certain early Renoir and then Rembrandt and Ingres and art like that.  Even at age 5, I was captivated by this book and by art. 

When you were using that oil painting kit, were you looking at pictures at that time—or in the mirror—or at your mother? 

Actually at 5 years old, needless to say, I had no experience.  I had no formal education, no education at all.  

And my aunt who I think was working in Los Alamos on the nuclear projects couldn’t send any postcards from there, so she sent things from Albuquerque, New Mexico.  And so I received this Albuquerque postcard—I didn’t, my family did—and it was an Indian adobe house with these poles sticking out of the front and cast shadows running down the front of the adobe.  And I found that fascinating, and that’s what I painted—not normally what, as they say, a five year old would paint. We still have that silly little picture. 

As far as encouragement is concerned, I don’t think I received any negative response.  But my parents certainly were not cheerleaders, so it was something sort of in between.  I would run to my parents, every five minutes and say “Look, look.  This is the best thing I’ve ever done.”  They didn’t ridicule me at least.
 

Your father must have particularly had some art sensitivity. How many fathers from World War II, having been away, or not even away, would buy an oil painting set and this particular book? 

True, he had even done a pastel or two.  Although he was a very busy businessman, he did have interest there.

As a teenager you demonstrated not just incredible talent but also a strong sense of independence. You began studying at the Art Students League in NYC at 18 and managed to earn your own tuition through work at the school.  Do you ever look back and wonder about being so young with such drive and focus?

It is kind of remarkable; I honestly can’t account for it. I did go to college for a couple of years and I was thoroughly bored.  I would find myself on weekends running to museums and studying various paintings, particularly among which was Rembrandt, of course.  By the time I got to New York, I was completely captivated by the idea of being a painter and so I dedicated my whole life to it. Beginning then work was something I enjoyed.  Work—if painting is work—why, then I was working.  But I feel a little guilty calling it “work” because I am so involved in it.  It’s a compulsion, and it’s gratifying at the same time—very gratifying.  
 

With prestigious grants you studied in Italy returning later to teach in Memphis, Chicago, New York (Art Students League, The National Academy of Design) and then Bucks County, Pennsylvania. During the years that you were strengthening your skills as a realist painter, were you also reflecting on your next move to art education?

Quite frankly, at that point, I was consumed with learning all these skills myself and gaining capability.  I was aware that it was just completely incredulous that the teaching level was so pathetic that I just felt challenged to try to do something about it in my own way.  And I’ve had a compulsion to do that ever since, for the last 50 years. 

You have continued to teach. You generously established an art apprentice program in your home studio at no cost to the student and then considering the high demand for developing skills in painting realism; you founded Studio Incamminati in Philadelphia.  That was a huge investment of your time and energy. What support did you have to make that happen so successfully?     

Well, the students who came to me pleading that I teach in Philadelphia were my biggest, let’s say, fan club, and they were the most encouraging because they were very, very excited about the idea of something being created.  The first few years, I was the sole teacher, and so I was there teaching two or three days a week, all day.  And it was sort of holding back my own work.  So, as the years have gone by, I’ve had students whom I have trained become the teachers.  And this is part of the philosophy—that the students become teachers and start doing a little bit of teaching rather early on in their education.  Now we’ve developed some absolutely superb teachers and painters who are going around this country and the world teaching.  This is only the beginning of what will definitely be expanded. 

That’s sensational.  It’s really giving back. 

It’s working big time. 

Your portraits are rich in realistic life details and also carry a depth of soulfulness.  Who was your first well-known commissioned portrait? How did you receive that project?

Oh wow, I can barely remember.  I know that a businessman, an associate of my father’s, asked me to paint a portrait, but it was way too early.  I didn’t have that kind of confidence when I was about nineteen.  Then when I was in New York studying, I was asked to paint the head minister of the All Saints Unitarian Church on Madison Avenue in New York, and I painted Dr. Walter Donald Crane.  Right about that time, I also went to Europe—to Italy for a couple of years—so I painted a lot of friends and a lot of things but not high profile commissions.  So let’s see, oh gosh, it’s very hard to remember.  It's just been a question of slowly going up a staircase.  And it’s hard to know if there’s any one point where the light starts flashing and suddenly, oh boy, I’m painting some important people.  I don’t put that much into the celebrity status, because I’ve come to the conclusion that all people have depth, and all people have something that I would love to extrude and put into a painting.  And so, it’s not just kings and queens and princesses that I go into with depth.  It’s virtually everything I paint, frankly. 

Then again getting to know these people—some, I have become very good friends with.  Perhaps the deepest relationship might be with Diana, but I also had a wonderful relationship with Margaret Thatcher.  I painted her twice, so I spent many, many hours with her—both during the paintings and other times.  We were great friends. 

Generally speaking, we make friends.  And because I’m painting friends, their humanity is very much in the forefront.  It’s very gratifying that way because I don’t hide what I’m doing and then sort of flash it to them at the end.  They are part of the process, and they see what I’m doing the whole way.  And I think they really, really gain from it.  People I never would have expected would get excited and interested in the project do become interested and excited about the project.  So, that’s very gratifying.  I’m not just painting an object.  So, it makes a big difference. 

Now that you are famous and in museums, galleries and collections all over the world, do you have an agent(s) for your art or do commissions come to you directly?

Well, they normally come to me directly.  I run across so many people and so many people are aware of my work that I don’t need someone out there peddling it.  But often I’ll get, for example, a recommendation—someone will be sent to me by a museum director or museum curators or people that are in the art world or that kind of thing—or just because of connections that have somehow or other been attained over the last half-century.   But selling paintings—I just run across people that really want them, and that’s very gratifying. 

Occasionally, I will have a show with an exhibition, for example I just had two very, very important exhibitions in Russia.  I was invited by the Russian Academy of Art to have a major exhibition there, and I did, two years ago.  And then the State Russian Museum in St. Petersburg wanted the same show and got it.  So, I showed at the two very major Russian Museums.  And that was I guess word of mouth, people heard about me, or whatever, and they approached me. 
 

You have said that “You cannot make a major difference doing things in a minor way”. Has that belief driven you to succeed?

With the major things in my life, my painting, and therefore my teaching—and of course my family—there is no element of complacency as I approach these things, and that might be represented by calling it in a minor way.  So for example—the teaching—I could teach a few students or have a few apprentices here living with me around the house, but actually I think reaching a greater number of people and influencing art worldwide is my ambition. I think we’re well on the road.  I think art needs some major changes.  And what they call modern art is just ridiculous.  I think it’s time to reset the clock and reset the direction of art, and we’re doing that.   But it’s a big responsibility to teach people not just talk about it. 

Words almost become meaningless.  But I think we can change some things, but there has to be better art out there for people to grasp on to.  And with great hope and luck, I and some of these students will provide that.  So that’s what I mean by doing something in a big way.  But I don’t mean that you should make—when you fix breakfast—spend a lifetime on it.  I think you do have to select the most important things to address your time with. 
 

At 75, you remain very active by painting almost daily and continuing to teach at Studio Incamminati. Do you have daily routines? Do you still have any unfulfilled goals?

I have exactly the same routine I think I’ve always had, but maybe it’s more of a routine than it ever was.  I get up early, often its dark and I’ll come to the studio very early in the morning, and I will paint without sitting down often for ten or eleven or even twelve hours. 

And, it’s no more difficult for me to do that now, in fact perhaps easier than it ever was because it’s become quite a habit.  I do know that many of my students fall on the floor in exhaustion after about an hour, and I’m like the little battery that keeps on going.  And I feel I have every bit as much energy and a whole lot more experience and ability than I had when I was much younger. 
 

Do you work out?  Do you do some physical exercises that help you maintain this incredible routine? 

A little, but I have little, little ambition to become an Arnold Schwarzenegger. 
 

Do you possibly have any unfulfilled goals at this point? 

Just more and better paintings—I think my paintings are almost becoming more ambitious in the last five or six years than they’ve ever been—and more complicated.  I think they’re more competent.  I think they have greater appeal visually, and I think they’re more exciting.  I think they have greater depth, and so this is all an accumulation of knowledge that I’ve gained over all these years.  And I’m enjoying the heck out of being competent.   

But, there is nothing like knowledge, and one of my statements that I would make, unsolicited from you, is that “show me somebody that is self-taught, and I’ll show you someone who is incompetent and ignorant.”  Because there is such a vast, vast, vast resource in art history and those paintings and painters that have come before, that somebody who has not seen those—because if they’ve seen those at all and studied them at all, then they’re not self-taught—they’re getting it from—self-taught means total ignorance, and I’m not for that at all.  I think the more you know, the greater the creativity. 

 

An Interview with BENNETT BEAN: Creating a Continuum of Art

 

 

I understand that you migrated to art as a college student. I assume that there were early creative experiences that paved the way. Was your artful spirit hibernating, were you aware of it?

First, it was the way I was brought up and given a sense by my mother that I was astonishingly wonderful. This is a perfect gift to give a child. Second, third grade was amazingly important.  I went to a university experimental school where their experiment was to provide a project then point to the back of the room where there were plenty of books and materials to find a solution. I still approach my art that way; I have a project and then I search for the solution. So much is about curiosity.

I was dyslexic before they invented dyslexia so I was considered stupid; but, I was so well armored by my mother’s spirit that I could not be crushed. I think of dyslexia as an advantage, and I feel sorry for artists who think in linear terms; I enjoy thinking in terms of a relational field of elements spun in space.

Becoming an artist was not a very popular thought when I was growing up in the 50s. In any event, my mother said that I could be an artist but had to finish school first so in that way she gave me permission and restrictions.

 

It’s interesting that your mother was the one to encourage you to take the leap in Art studies since often most parents place an emphatic push on traditional careers.  She must have been a very intuitive person with good instincts.

My mother was fabulous with great instincts and very smart. I had a great childhood with only standard suffering such as occasional bullying. It was idyllic to grow up in the Midwest in the 50’s.

 

You traveled through initial career journeys as an archaeologist then an architect to solidly planting yourself as an artist. How have these studies shaped your thinking in making your art?

I was really shopping for a way to make a living. I was very lucky to have gone to Grinnell, which was a liberal arts college where I was forced to explore a variety of studies. Their core curriculum was really good. I was just trying to figure it out and then I received permission from my mother to study Art and left Grinnell. I enrolled in the University of Iowa which was like a huge art factory and a wonderful place to be; an ideal situation with many types of students.

 

You write:“The things I make influence what I buy and the things I buy influence what I make…..  It’s a dance where ideas are applied in different ways depending on the medium.” This integrative approach must trigger a whole inner circle of visual and intellectual thought. When did you become conscious of this unique way of relating to the objects around you?

 

It is kind of a circle; each feeds the other. We’re making rugs in Nepal and using images of pots in the design, and as the rugs change it goes back and influences my pots again. Now I am making a new line of furniture which is taking imagery from both the pots and the rugs. It is a kind of interior discussion based on curiosity of what happens if I take this thing from here……stealing one thing from one place to see how it may fit in another . It’s an approach of transforming one thing to another.

 

Your approach to creating art is dynamic. You respond with flexibility, shifting your initial values to embrace a more complex view that hosts many elements of thought to bring down barriers of distinction among those elements. Do you consider yourself a flexible open person in life as well?

 

I have been a practicing Buddhist for many years; one of the things this leads to is that one becomes less interested in the distinctions between this and that.  I’m not interested in barriers, so I can move between things that others may find think of as very different. And a lot of what I do is to show up to the problem with whatever point of view I have and apply it.

I probably consider myself more open and flexible than others do. 

 

Also I may be more open than flexible because the way I do things requires discipline so it means that I may have to say “No” to people who want me to do something else.

 

Having created in many mediums (clay, paint, steel, fiber) and produced many objects/items, what do you still yearn to do now at 72?

I have way more ideas than I could ever actually physically execute. I would like to have a big pile of money so I could hire a bunch of people to do them. And what I would really like to make is big sculpture, monster steel things with gold inside. That would be fun. Also it would be interesting to revisit utilitarian ceramics because it is where I started.

It’s almost a continuation of all things and of course there is an economic piece to all of it since I stopped teaching 40 years ago and now I am focused on sustaining my studio.

As I get older, I clearly have less energy. I am slowly deteriorating physically although I still suffer from attacks of euphoria.

An Interview with DONNA MC CULLOUGH: Creative Recycling through Artful Welding

 

You started drawing early. What do you most remember about your beginning creative years?

I remember seeing Degas bronze dancer with the fabric skirt at the Baltimore Museum of Art. That piece definitely influenced my work!

Grand mom taught us how to cross stitch and other needlework. We were always working on something and have many ribbons from submitting our art work in the County Fairs. I also loved to draw horses and sketched all over my notebooks and art pads. Now I have horses and do sculptures of them.

My mom painted and gave art classes in our home and Dad did woodworking. Art was everywhere around us. She sewed and taught me to sew and I began making my own clothes in 9^th grade.

Your female artistic influencers as you grew up were family since your grandmother, mother and sister were artists. Did everyone work differently in different mediums or in a similar venue?

My sister and I were encouraged early on. My mother, grandmother and great grandmother were all artists. One of my great grandmother’s paintings of strawberries in a wooden bowl hung in my grandmother’s dining room. Grand mom painted china and did needlework. Mom painted and now makes jewelry also. My sister was a graphic designer and painter and now teaches painting and drawing at Youngstown University. I started painting and drawing and ended up doing sculpture.

You were employed as a staff designer working in retail packaging for many years before having a “aha” moment which triggered your study of welding and ushered you in the world of 3 dimensions. In a way, this also revealed your talents similar to your father’s in carpentry. How did you take that artistic leap from 2 D to 3D, from creating classic art to creating mechanical art?

I still am a graphic designer/art director three days a week. These are very long days with a very long commute.

I never realized that connection to my dad’s carpentry. I can figure out most projects on my own; I somehow have the three dimensional sense to work forms out. I don’t need to draw or build diagrams or miniatures.Perhaps it's because I know my subjects well: female forms and animals…horses, dogs and chickens.

As far as making the leap, it took me a bit to overcome the fear factor of welding. I started doing oxy acetylene which has an open flame and looks much scarier than mig (metal inert gas) welding which I do now. But, I knew that this was a core need that I developed so I stuck to it. I work by myself and sometimes just the weight of some of the pieces makes it difficult to deal with. Those are the times I think I should go back to painting! I do all the hauling and installations for my shows also and wonder how long I will be able to do it.

Many of your female dress pieces depict contradictions in elements. It could be a metal bodice and a tulle skirt or a metal bodice and an unfilled metal frame skirt or the drill team series which plays on the concepts of both an oil drill and a cheerleader drill. Do you think of these concepts before beginning your piece? Do you sketch or plan your form before creating it?

I do not normally sketch out dresses. I do have ideas when I start a project. Sometimes a piece starts when I choose an interesting piece of metal that I feel lends itself to a bodice and start from there. Sometimes I do the top part and then decide what would work best as the skirt. Each piece is totally different. The pieces I do actually plan are the Drill Team girls (the oil and gas can pieces). The material (oil cans) is difficult to find so I really think before I start cutting the metal. I also try to figure out what I will use for the skirt before I start the top part.

One example of how things begin is a piece called Belle Epoche. This is a horse piece. I was cleaning out my locker in a studio that I rent and found two pieces of metal from an old grass catcher from a commercial lawn mower. These pieces were what was left from another time I had used part of it. The shape of the pieces reminded me of a horse neck. So, that is how that piece was born.

Do you actively seek to recycle elements in your art or is it serendipitous?

I think the answer to the question is both. I love to create new objects out of totally unusual materials. I have a dress in my current show called Heat Wave. She is created from an old oil heater that a friend was throwing out. I actually jumped into the large dumpster and hauled it out! I attached the label from the oil heater to the back of her dress. A bit of humor.

I started using what I found because I did not have the money or know how to find or buy what I needed. This directed the style of my pieces and now I am known for that look. I acquire pieces by finding them on the road, scrap yards, friends, goodwill, ebay etc.

Your love of animals is reflected in your art of horses, dogs and various fowl. Do you prefer to work in a series like the female form or to create individual sculptures like the animals?

I mostly create the dress series because they are often what the galleries want. I used to do some dresses, then work on animals. I enjoy trying to plan on creating dresses/animals/dresses/animals alternatively.

Looking ahead, what are you visions and goals for further developing your art now that you are only months away from being 60?

I plan on working on life size horse pieces. I also anticipate creating more pieces that will actually hang on the wall. I want to expand my reach, get my work into more galleries, and somehow combine art and traveling.

An Interview with MARILYN PAPPAS: Fiber Artist Stitches in Time

How did your early years shape your role as an artist? At what point in time did you realize that art would be your path?

 Art was my first love from as far back as I can remember. I loved to draw and always wanted to be an artist so, for me, there was no adolescent dilemma about how to spend my life. I wanted to study art at a professional art school and did just that. However, I did not become interested in teaching until I started to work at summer camps while in art school.


You studied Art Education and received a BA and MS in that area. Subsequently you taught Art in public schools and then brought your expertise to college students where you are currently Professor Emeritus at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Can you talk about your teaching?

 Looking back at a very long teaching career, 41 years covering virtually every level from kindergarten through graduate studies, I feel extremely fortunate to have experienced those years. While I love being a full time artist now, I feel that the years in academia were continually rich in creativity, inspiration and learning from my students as well as from the actual teaching. My last 20 years of teaching, at MassArt, were particularly rewarding as well as demanding. The level of students was extremely high. I also served as Chair of the 3Dimensional Fine Arts Department for 9 of those years, a challenge and an opportunity to interact with faculty, administrators and students in another way. Perhaps all of these layers of learning gave me discipline, organization and patience – all important qualities for an artist – as well as creativity and a continuing love of art, old and new. I think it is important to note that I always continued working on my own art, through all of these demanding years.


Your work today is based on the technique of laborious and intensive stitching used to generate a complex tonal pictorial effect. What other art techniques did you explore before developing these pieces?

My adult artwork began with woodcuts, moved on through fabric assemblage to collage and papermaking  and finally, as my retirement from teaching approached, I returned to my interest in fabric, stitching and drawing, turning toward my travels, especially to Mediterranian countries and, gradually, to classical sculptures of goddesses. Still powerful, although broken and worn, these images inspire me to interpretations that express their strength, feminism, beauty and vulnerability – universal characteristics that remain important to women today.


In creating unique and intricate stitched art that replicates women in antiquity, how do you approach each project? Do you work from your own initial drawings or reference prints?  On paper first or directly on the linen fabric that you use as your canvas?

I usually choose a sculpture that interests me, often because I have actually seen it and somehow it strikes a chord. From photographs of the sculpture, I make full scale sketches that I often cut out and then I draw the outline on linen. Most of the rest of the drawing is done directly with thread , on the background linen. My recent work, that will be shown in Philadelphia at Snyderman-Works Galleries in October, deals mainly with the colors and patterns that originally covered these sculptures that we see as white marble today. I try to imagine how these bright and often garish colors eroded over time and how the life of the colors and the beauty of the figures kept changing.


You have stated that “I am interested in the beauty of imperfection and the imperfection of beauty” and you also explore this in relation to the concepts of vulnerability, dignity and the ravages of time. These are underlying philosophies behind your art that may be understood as an approach to feminism and social politics. Can you discuss this?

 As a woman who had a career and raised a family at a time when most women were stay at home moms, I experienced all the benefits and drawbacks of a working woman. Feminism grew during those years and while I was not an activist, I was always interested in working toward and supporting the ideals expressed by the feminist movement.


You have received many awards, are in numerous collections, and have shown your work internationally in museums and exhibitions. At 82, what are you still looking to explore with your art?

 At the age of 82 I am grateful to be fit and able to work continuously as an artist. I do not know what will come next, but I do know that I look forward to and expect to keep searching, discovering and developing new ideas that translate into new work.
 

An Interview with ED BING LEE: Never Not Knotting Fiber Art

Photographer: Ken Yanoviak

 

As a child of Chinese immigrants, Ed has taken his craft to the art world. He creates hand knotted small artful objects and the series “Delectable” is a charming and beautifully crafted replication of American junk food.

As a child of Chinese immigrants whose father died young and mother worked in a sewing factory, your roots were humble. You were fortunately recognized for your artistic talent in grade school and later went on to earn two Master Degrees and become a successful fiber artist.  Do you reflect on your achievement and the roads that paved the path to where you are now?

As I look back on the 50 odd years of working in the "arts", the experience has afforded me with much pleasure, some surprises, few disappointments and even regrets.   One regret is that I never took the time to explore a large scale knotted pieces,  a point of view undergoing revision in my current work as well as in future projects.


Your creative experience using knotting began around 1970 while you were teaching off loom techniques. What you say about knotting is that “You can go two-dimensional, three-dimensional, or you can do both at the same time. And there’s no machinery.” Certainly knotting does not require any machinery and it does not require tools either.  Since it is relegated to your hands only, do you treat your hands with special creams, gloves, or exercises to keep them nimble and able to handle all your creative ideas?

I have been fortunate in that I have not experienced any extreme trauma with the use of my hands. I don't have any special routine for their care. Of late I try to minimize any straining motions and have slowed my pace considerably. Mostly, I rest frequently and try to vary hand actions so that I'm not repeating the same motion endlessly.


Is all your work entirely fiber? That is to say, you primarily work with waxed linen, embroidery floss and synthetic ribbons although you have included paper and shoelaces in your Chawan series. Do you often explore using other linear or fibrous elements?

Linen and embroidery floss were the only materials I used when I started knotting. The two dimensional pieces as in the PICNIC series and as in the art history inspired figural pieces were made exclusively in these two materials. The warp was linen and embroidery floss and served to create the pictorial images, all in an effort to simulate a tapestry.

I started using waxed linen in my EARTHCRUST series because it allowed me to incorporate three dimensional projections as in a bas-relief. The structural character of the waxed linen also facilitated the making of free standing sculptural images which I  combined with the richer palette of the embroidery floss, the wellspring of the DELECTABLE series.

The CHAWAN series was a period of learning and experimentation for me.  I started to use new materials: ribbons, shoe laces, costume trimming and paper cords and ribbons. More importantly, I started to use a wider variety of knots and combined materials of different weights and textures within a single piece. To date the CHAWAN was my largest series numbering some fifty items.


In developing your art, you appear to have launched yourself from your knowledge as a painter and skill as a fiber architect. By interpreting the pointillism of Seurat, you created a knotted translation. In your “Delectables” series, your work is an interpretation of popular iconic American foods.  Each one is a series to build upon and consider. Are you currently working on another thematic project?

Currently I'm considering two distinct series. In the works are large sculptural pieces which contain aspects from the DELECTABLE series. The treatment is more abstract. The form, color and texture of the images in the DELECTABLES relied heavily on their actual counterparts. But in the new food series, I'm trying to center my attention on the elements of design and composition.   I would like these new pieces to have a presence as Art independent of their source.

The second series exists mostly in my imagination but I am beginning to see definable outlines. Possibly a series of miniatures combining art historical and contemporary images within a single pictorial format.


In the process of creating a new piece, do you plan for it by rendering sketches? If so, do you include structural elements?

As a preface to this question, the actual making of a knotted object is a long (emphasize long) process. Several months is not out of the question and a few select pieces require a more substantial block of time. My process is to picture the finished piece in my mind; consider the construction (materials, size, color and most importantly, the starting point); followed by visualizations in drawings with appropriate remarks and notations; then start knotting. It is very rare that the completed piece is like what I had imagined. A large part of the cause for rethink and adjustments is precipitated by the fact that all my sculptural pieces are hollow, which affects the design, the type of material and certainly the construction.  A case in point, I like my pieces to be self supporting which may entail reinforcing the walls.

Common practice for most sculptural knotters is to use a supporting form around which they knot. When finished, the support would be completely covered. This practice renders a much smoother and uniform surface.


You were honored to receive the Pew Fellowships in the Arts award, exhibited widely and your art is in esteemed collections. Does this success fuel your creative energy?

This question gave me a pause. All too often achievements are measured as a linear unfolding. as one milestone after another. However I feel the term achievement is bit too formal for me, preferring to think of the different stages as beads of different sizes, significances and magnitude of importance being strung together, representing the whole of my work while continue to I add beads. The following lines by Rudyard Kipling in his poem IF captures my sentiments very succinctly:
     "If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
     And treat those two impostors just the same:…”


You say that “challenge moves my work forward”. You have certainly used challenge to move your life forward; now at 80 what creative challenge lies ahead?

I believe that what I have done in the past is an integral part of what I am doing now.  When starting a new series I seek to present these selfsame "borrowings" in a different light, it is a process of deconstructing and revitalizing my artistic vision.

Another aspect that I would like to see embodied in my work is what has been described by Hanneke Grootenboor  in his RHETORIC OF PERSPECTIVE that Art is capable of presenting complex thoughts that are often contradictory, so Art can represent..."thinking in a way that is superficial and profound, empty and meaningful, playful and serious."

Finally, I would like to have enough work for a solo in my mid 80's.  Is it possible to have it all?



 

An Interview with TOBI ZAUSNER: Extraordinary Painter, Psychologist, Writer

Tobi, you began making art at a very young age. Do you remember some of your first experiences? Your first paintings?

I began making art in earnest when I was about three and a half years old. I don’t remember the pieces of art I produced but what I do remember is the process, the thrill of focusing on something and watching it change before my eyes. Each piece of art was its own world that would emerge as I created it. This wonderful feeling has stayed with me today.

Often exceptional talent generates acclaim. What awards, prizes and other notable distinctions have you received for your art? Which are particularly special to you and why?

Like many people I have won prizes but I think the greatest prize is within. It is the feeling of accomplishment that comes with creating a work of art or writing an article on psychology that I believe communicates its message to others and comes up to a standard that gives me joy. We are all capable of doing something that brings us great satisfaction and this happiness with accomplishment is a prize available to everyone.

Over the years as an artist and then as a psychologist, you became interested in artists who continued to be creative despite difficult obstacles. In your book, When Walls Become Doorways: Creativity and the Transforming Illness, you profile many of these amazing artists. Can you talk about your personal impetus for writing this book and the value for everyone?

The impetus for writing When Walls Become Doorways was my personal experience with major illnesses that became turning points in my life. When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 1989 my doctor did not expect me to survive but I did and my life transformed. After this illness, in addition to being an artist I also became a psychologist. In the 1970’s I was sick for seven years as a result of being poisoned by an insecticide. Yet it was during this period that my mature style of painting emerged and I began to show my work professionally. Having had this happen to me, I became sensitive to the same dynamic in others. In When Walls Become Doorways I feature artists, who have vision problems, hearing loss, cancer, neurological illnesses, and disabling accidents among other conditions, yet all of these artists transformed their work and their lives. What is initially viewed as a tragedy can instead become an opportunity.

You became involved in psychology research in graduate school and then received a doctorate combining art and psychology. How did this happen and what are you investigating?

I actually believe I got a doctorate by accident because I had no concept of getting a PhD when I started graduate school. My intended goal was to get a Masters in art. Then I started taking classes in the psychology department and a whole new way of thinking became available. One course in particular on the psychology of art changed my life and defined my path by combining psychology and art. My work in psychology focuses on the creative process. I have investigated how creativity can be used as a tool for resilience, helping us to bounce back from difficulties, and now I am researching the altered states of consciousness that can occur during times of creativity. These states are not related to any drugs but occur as part of the rapture of creating something new.

To be dedicated as an artist and as a psychologist is very demanding life work. How do you balance that?

Art and psychology balance each other and in doing so they balance me. I have always had a very demanding life and work is the fire that runs through my veins. It is a life force and it is a road that I can never really predict no matter how hard I try. So in response I just keep going.

Now at 70, what are your expectations, visions, dreams?

I want to keep working. Artists die with their boots on and I also have no plans to retire as a psychologist. About expectations - we can expect what we want but what we most often receive is the unexpected and this unexpected result, this unplanned for harvest, this undreamt of situation is often greater, more interesting, more challenging and more transformational than having one’s previously intended plans and dreams come true. It is the dreams you didn’t realize you could dream that take you down paths you never imagined you would be able to travel.

 

 

Disclaimer: Tobi Zausner is my sister.

An Interview with KAFFE FASSETT: The Passionate Art of Coloring our World

Courtesy of STC Craft | A Melanie Falick Book

Photograph by Debbie Patterson

Kaffe Fassett is a world renowned artist and designer who uses color to change the ordinary to the extraordinary. Born in California, he has lived in London for more than 40 years.

At what point did you realize that art was your passion? What did you do before you became successful?

At the age of 4 years old I was given a set of oil paints and an easel, so I guess I must have shown promise - I was always attracted to the visual in life. Before I became successful as a textile artist I concentrated on fine art painting.


Your parents have utilized their creative skills in the restaurant business in California. Were you encouraged creatively at a young age?

My mother was the creative one in our family and she encouraged me always – sending me off to any visiting theatre, or dance group or classic films like The Red Shoes and Olivier’s Henry the 5th.and supplying me with art books.


What prompted your decision at 19 years old to leave Boston Fine Arts where you had a scholarship? At what point in time after that did you choose to live in England and why?

I didn’t get to England until I was 27 but left art school because I felt I could educate myself by drawing and painting everyday and going to exhibitions. I came to England because of a chance meeting with the British author Christopher Isherwood and was encouraged by some worldly friends.

While returning from visiting a Scottish wool mill, you learned to knit on a train from another passenger. Do you sometimes reflect on this serendipitous encounter?

Absolutely - especially since that woman turned out to be the mother of my 4th sister - of course I do!
            

Now with over 36 books in print, are there still more in development?

Always! I design printed fabric to put into quilts, then included in books to show my fans how I use them. Books explain my elaborate visual thinking so will always be part of my life unless, film can do the same job and I have access to a good film-maker.


With your projects spanning Fabric, Knitting, Needlepoint, Patchwork, Painting, Rugs, Mosaics and recently Ribbons, you have traversed categories that are used daily by design sensitive consumers and creative individuals.  Do you manage a library of your own work?

It is difficult to keep track but I do try to keep scrapbooks of my design work and of course, my printed books are a record. I also have a huge collection of source books for inspiration in design.


You have had tremendous international acclaim by being the first living textile artist to having a one person show at the Victoria and Albert Museum to your recent award of the Turner Medal given by the Colour Group in Great Britain. Do you consider that your success is in large part due to your extraordinary sense of color or your design elements that carry colorways so well?

A sharpened colour sense and ways of showing that through design go hand in hand – I am lucky that I get a free hand to develop my books and designs to be able to showcase my ideas. Some people with great ideas and colour sense don’t get that unimpeded chance to prove themselves.


Through your books, workshops, lectures, exhibitions as well as television and radio appearances and your new film on Creative Bug, you have explored media effectively to reach people all over the world. Do you prefer being in the front line with people or being creative in your studio?

I love the stage and audiences, but the energy it takes to present myself is huge and is gathered through many hours of creative work in my studio, or when travelling on tours, in my hotel room quietly working on projects to inspire me. So I love both – but the creative hours are essential.


Given the enormity of your work, even the samples must take a great deal of time. Do you contract people who can follow your prototypes to completion?

Occasionally I hire some help, but my urge to see work develop in my own hands usually wins – designing as I go and years of experience gives me a speed that enables me to do most of my own sampling.


Now in your 70s, are there textile/fiber/art concepts or techniques that you still want to explore?

I am sure there are but I’d like to keep refining what I already do – producing better colours, more exciting forms and patterns etc in knitting, needlepoint, surface pattern and quilts. There is so much more to explore and develop. Perhaps larger scale is where I’d like to go next.