Block Prints and Fine Art

The philosophical problem of the day is centered around terminology.

They called Warhol’s soup cans pop art.

If I create something and in my mind I call it “art” how do I get to the place where I label it “fine art”?

Art with a capital A is something that I imagine we create in connection with a mandatory number of years in academia, a bachelors in Fine Art and probably, most important to the equation, the expectation that some agent will be taking a fairly large percentage from the sale of said Fine Art.

I have made paintings, portraits I should say, and they were all born of a passionate affection and deep appreciation for the work of the person I chose to paint. This is where you see me tapping my fist over the area of my chest beneath which my heart lies. Respect.

 This Andy portrait was painted out of love and admiration. I took great pains to make him beautiful and to try to catch the innocent, insouciant yet calculating seductiveness of his personality. Those qualities were steeped in a stew of old world catholic guilt and fear. Still, despite that ingrained sense that certain things were forbidden. Andy was the bravest of makers. He lived his life boldly. His “shyness” was, I think, rather a distaste for being controlled by anyone or anything mixed with a deep concern that he not give anyone the power to hurt him.

I think he asked this question. How does a flawed, less than perfect person transform themselves into a beacon? By what energy or algebra can I turn on that inner light and draw others to me? He was drawn to and studied people who managed to do this.

 He did a smashing job and he did it with the simplest tools. You could make the argument that he was the first recycler. He repurposed everything. He borrowed and rearranged and did the great art trick of making strange. He took the most common items and recontextualized them. And everytime in doing so raised the questions What is Art? and What are you willing to pay for it?

It was a game. He was fascinated by the psychology of Fine Art and celebrity which is sort of the Fine Art of bodies.

I must spend some time reading what others have to say on this subject. Art Blogs, here I come.

Let me get my head out of the clouds and back to Low Brow, another can of worms for later.

Today I posted a new batch of pix on Flickr. See them up there on the upper right hand corner of this blog?

And yesterday I got very into making stamps out of 50 cent polymer erasers. There is a size restriction in using them. They come in a standard eraser size, 1 x 2.50 inches. They cut like butter.

I stamp them and then make adjustments until I get what looks right.

This one is sort of a self-portrait profile. I later cut that eylash line on the far left a bit shorter so it looks less like the figure has an object impaled in the unseen eyeball.

Light and dark areas are read differently and subtle changes alter the meaning.

I ran out of room on the edges. I probably shouldn’t say such things.

I believe the artist can suffer from being too straightforward or too attached to telling the unvarnished truth. He/she will not do as well as the artist that consciously allows myth and mystique to carry them. My artistic temperament is born from the big, red hair of a flagrant fantasy. I made a world out of glitter and glam and gender-bender values and I’m still trying to squeeze into those platform boots.

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One Response to “Block Prints and Fine Art”

  1. what people fail to understand is that warhol was prophecying the advent of cell phones by reminding us of our soup can phones, with ten pound test ofcourse.

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