Velazquez, Juan de Pareja, 1650

Detail. What does it mean? We tend to think of it as small parts, articulated bits that add flavor. As the saying goes, “The Devil is in the details”, which interestingly comes from an older phrase, “God is in the detail”, meaning, details are important. But in painting, I would suggest that the word should be liberated from its cliched context and our definition not be limited to finessed particulars of description. In short, detail is what or where the artist brings the viewers attention, either articulated on a large or small scale. The Thesaurus uses such words as ‘particular’,’ specific’, ‘fine point’,  and more negatively, ‘triviality’, ‘nicety’, and ‘incidental’. But the words that more closely evoke what I’m writing about are,  ‘subtlety’, ‘feature’, and ‘precision’.

The masters understood this. Velazquez is the epitome of an artist who bore down into a subjects marrow. The paintings evoke identification through representation, but are not about adding incidentals of realism. They are about stripping away all unnecessary triviality and cutting to the core of form in light, where souls are revealed. It is the simplicity and essence of description that takes my breath away when looking at his work. That is where the genius is found. Painters who feel compelled to spoon feed viewers with unedited answers and who assume this increases the value of a work are giving no room for the imagination and are not seeing to a deeper level. This is not about the favoring of a particular stylistic approach, but instead, penetrating through banality into the heart of the matter. It is in fact more difficult to choose what to leave out, than to carelessly add what isn’t necessary.

Canaletto, The Stonemasons Yard, 1726-30

One of the supreme realists of the 17th century was Canaletto . Trained in a guild as a stage painter, he was one of the most renowned painters of his generation and became a favorite of the British Royalty for his scenes. Here is a painter who put in an abundance of facts, right down to the cornice of a far away building. Though on close inspection, one can see that his love for the plasticity of marks and their expressive potential far surpass mimicry. His masterful insight was in how he orchestrated this plethora of information into a synthesized whole that transcends the particulars. Miraculously, while one may be wowed by his technique, you are never left thinking that the parts are unnecessary.

Giacometti, 1960

That is the key, understanding how to coalesce the whole from a synthesized matrix of well selected parts. This is where the magic is found and is no trivial task to create. Giacometti obsessively worked over and over a canvas striving for what he felt to be expressively essential in a portrait. The detail was in the synergistic gathering of attempts! Color was stripped to neutrality and marks cut and slashed hunting to find dynamic relationships that only he could feel the rightness of. That search for his emotional response to his subject created a timeless vision.

Where is your attention when you paint? What information is essential and what is extemporaneous? What are you choosing to emphasize? What relationships add to the whole and which distract? That is the question of detail.

Paul King - detail, Empty Handed Leap

Common word, complex subject. Painters deal with surface every time they apply a mark. But the real understanding of this subject is an issue that seems to be less and less appreciated along with the understanding that first and foremost, painting is a visual experience. In oil painting, ‘surface’ refers to the quality of the paint, its texture, transparency/opacity, luminosity and viscosity. What creates the variety of experiences is in how the painter manipulates his brush, what kind of brush or tool is used, how she utilizes her medium, what surface is painted on and ultimately what the intention of the painter is in how they want light to read through or on the paint layer. Terms like scumbling, velatura, glaze, and impasto all refer to different ways the paint is applied to create different effects. Not wanting to get too technical, my aim here is to speak of an appreciation for a too little considered quality that is often at the heart of how we see a work of art.

Surface is not merely a byproduct of the act of painting, but can and should be a conscious quality that is sought while creating layers of beauty and complexity. An appreciation and manipulation of surface is not limited to any mode of painting or genre. But too often it is forgotten in the rush to describe subject matter or concept. One of the primary reasons oil paint has been the choice of masters for centuries is because of its versatility. When there is a command of oil, the variety of surface qualities is practically unlimited. Rembrandt would utilize underpainting with additional glazes and velaturas to create a pulsating quality to flesh and then only a few inches away, would employ thick impasto to describe a ruffled collar. This dexterity and manipulation of surface effects how the light interacts with the paint layer creating luminosity, density and texture, all with conscious direction towards the effect he wanted to create in a particular area. Every means was employed to create the astounding qualities he achieved.

Paul King - detail, Phoenix

What I’m ultimately speaking about here is a deep sensitivity to craft, that is, the craftsmanship in building a painting. Whether appreciating or creating, look at how the paint feels and what effect this evokes. Does the mark drag off leaving a trail of the underlying layer that the weave of the linen imposes, or is the paint put down thickly with a painting knife where most of the mark is smooth allowing the light to penetrate deeply but leaving a ridge on the top of the mark that the light hits as a shelve creating an effect of ‘thingness’. Or is the paint put down in a creamy way with a smooth brush on a smooth surface or more dryly with a stiff brush on a rough canvas mixing color in an ocular way.

In my work, I invite the viewer to participate in the variety of my surfaces that hopefully elicits a rich visual experience. Relationships of space, form, color and light weave together to form a whole that has both mystery and definition. It is in the friction of these elements that a lasting impression unfolds to reveal depth and layered experience.

Awakening, 2011, Oil on Linen, 36 x 36"

This is the title of my show at Seraphin Gallery at 1108 Pine St. in Philadelphia. The show runs from April 29th till the end of June, 2011. Two and a half years of work is represented revealing exciting new directions. I’m appreciative of Tony and Lorraine Seraphin for including both monotypes and oils because the language between the two has been pivotal in my recent development. My work has naturally evolved towards abstraction. I have always been enthralled with the interface that exists with a marks journey between its uniqueness as pure expression and its jump into illusion with its neighbors. This exploration has matured into a nuanced dance between form, surface and content.

As I have moved through different subject matter and processes, what has become excitingly apparent is the mystery that is involved in enticing the viewer into a unique world that is both foreign but strangely familiar in its primordial connection. In order to do this, I have had to utilize my experience as a representational painter, while simultaneously letting go of descriptive association. Through my tuned eye and hand, the openness and vulnerability of this process enables a channeling of expression that is greater than the parts, a symbiosis of factors that I cannot control, but let happen through me. An interesting balance indeed!

Painting improvisationally, there is a constant dialogue between a figurative tease while simultaneously letting go of form. This thin edge is where the provocation transpires. If all association is extracted, the result becomes decorative, vapid of connection. Conversely, if even for a moment, representation becomes too deliberate, the painting diminishes and fails to transcend. This is a maddening process, but for now, for me, there is no other place to exist as an artist. Happily, this tension is providing fertile ground from which to create.

Lean, 2011, Monotype, 16 x 12"

In her review of the show in the May 27th issue of the Philadelphia Inquirer, Victoria Donohue states, “. . .King traffics in the once strictly delineated terrain where painting was painting and drawing was drawing and they seldom met, much less joined. He smartly combines the two, seamlessly and with ardor. King’s is a type of abstract painting that informs and reveals our humanist traditions as well as the art of painting itself. He’s making it work.”

Elaborating on her comments, embracing a drawing sensibility with painterly concerns relates directly to the stylistic collaboration between my monotypes and oils. Monotypes provide me with a direct path to explore my vision with intimate immediacy, which is after all, at the core of what drawing is. This has flowed naturally into my language of painting. The subjects that emerge relate to my passionate convictions of our unity and conversely, to the tragic follies of self importance. If I can speak clearly to this, while moving the cultural expression forward, then it will have been a good day.

Elegy to the Spanish Republic, No. 126

“The more anonymous a work, the less universal, because in some paradoxical way, we understand the universal through the personal”.

This is the first in a series of reflections and musing on Robert Motherwell’s writings. Motherwell was one of the foundational abstract expressionists and was pivotal in forming the New York School in the forties and fifties. Aside from his work being profoundly influential, he was a brilliant writer and became in a sense, the literate voice of his generations experience and artistic priorities. My intention here is not to critique, but speak to how his words connect with me and my process and in the creation of art in general.

A commonly heard tenant of writers is, “write from what you know-” I would posit that this truth holds true no matter the medium. But so often visual artists feel compelled to paint an idea, or as Tom Wolfe so eloquently put it in his analysis of the later 20th century art, to muck around in the “Painted Word.” This speaks to how in the reprioritzation towards conceptualization, artists drew further and further away from a visual experience to become more illustrators of concepts, in essence, creating depictions of one-liners. This is why so often contemporary work does not have staying power, does not transcend time and culture to speak to universal connection, does not create a mutli-leveled experience that unfolds itself slowly.

As I paint these days, there is a constant lean towards the expression of an impassioned release. Works are created from a primal intuition that has been honed through years of sensitizing myself to visual relationships, whether the intention was illusionist or not. Listening to Motherwell’s words, you understand that to create significance, you cannot be immersed with out-thereness, separatist notions of things or self conscious illusions of self importance that are either hackneyed or redundant, or worse, merely decorative. You may paint the land, object or human, but let it come from a source that you call your own. Mimicry is just that, and is a shallow vessel that at best creates a pleasantry to be viewed, not experienced.

When Motherwell speaks of “The personal”, these words go far past narcissistic indulgence. ‘Personal’ here refers to an inward journey of self revelation and exploration, where brutal honesty, even faith, lights the path. It is here, down here, from whence we all come, and it is here that universally connective truths can be revealed.

making books on the veranda

Creativity Unbound is the name of the workshop that Bridget Morris and I created to combine the artistic disciplines of Painting and Bookbinding. We had nine participants in a week-long feast of fun and enrichment. We designed the workshop to be creatively stimulating and full of adventure. Elizabeth Seltzer was our host at her beautiful Calabash Guest House located in Treasure Beach. This is a southwest province located near Jakes of The Harder They Come movie fame. It’s a wonderful rural community, with a laid back artistic quality. Bridget and I had traveled there in December to become acclimated to the vibrant scene and met many beautiful people, some of whom have become good friends. There is a genuineness and openness that we felt particularly drawn to with many Jamaicans. So refreshing to be with people who are giving in spirit with no pretension.

Lisa painting under the Bugenvalia

Guests learned several bookbinding techniques which were then incorporated with paintings produced during the week in various aqueous mediums. Painting instruction focused on experimentation and was given in both representational and abstract approaches. Experienced and novice alike soaked in the joy of personal growth, getting past inhibitions and taking sifnificant steps forward in their creative expression.

Exciting adventures included trips to the Pelican Bar, an oasis built on stilts far out on the ocean and Y S Falls, beautiful waterfalls cascading down ancient volcanic rock flows. We also enjoyed live Reggae music at night and dinning in cool restaurants on the beach! Bridget and I are now planning the 2011 workshop with new adventures and anticipate full enrollment. Cant wait. As the Jamaicans say, to full joy!

The Pelican Bar!

Y S Falls

Creativity Unbound!

Table setting at In Situ: 628

Eileen Tognini is one of those people who’s energy is infectious and productive! She is a curator and connector. As she put it to me, she loves bringing art and people together and has been doing so very successfully for over ten years. She hosted the highly successful “Gallery in the Garden” events at her families beautiful historic farm home at Hawk Mountain, in rural Pennsylvania at the foot hills of the Pocono Mountains. I call them events because hundreds of people would attend the annual, two weekend-long parties with high quality art being displayed from all over the country. Ever searching for new ways to express her talents as a coordinator of artistic vision while educating new audiences to the significance and warmth of original art,  she has since created and been involved in dynamic  new projects. This past summer I was invited to participate in her in-home show entitled In Situ: 628. For this event she completely redesigned the first floor of her family’s Fishtown home in Philadelphia to create unique settings for art and invited guests. With over twenty artists participating, there was a spectacular diversity all held together by Eileen’s vision and taste. Imagine a chandelier made from antique trumpets over a visionary dinning room setting, combined with ceramic wall sculpture and one of a kind installation art pieces, all organized in a festive party environment with artists and art appreciators.

I also had the good fortune of attending her curated exhibition entitled “The Titan and the Fireflies”, by New York sculptor Jasen Hackenwerth at the newly renovated space for artists, 2424 Studios, also in Fishtown, Philadelphia. Heckenwerth creates fantastical sculptures out of balloons! In typical Eileen style, this was a beautifully presented affair with great music and catering. The exhibition space is a two story exhibition/performance area perfectly suited for Hackenwerth’s imagination. Giant creations of bug-like forms filled the darkened space to create amazing effects and an enveloping experience for the quests.

Heckenwerth's, The Titan and the Fireflies

There has long been a tradition in Modern and Post Modern movements, of art as performance, and in the investigation of art created as ephemeral expressions with  a purposeful negation of longevity. Environmental art that is meant to kinetically deteriorate with time is a prime example. But I question a contemporary mindset that is tailored by the bombardment of mass media and the need to entertain. Tom Wolfs brilliant treatise, The Painted Word, has been an anchor in my thinking for years. His basic tenant is that for much of modern art to be understood, it needs to have a written explanation to support it, that is, an idea first and the expression of it, almost secondary. That critics like Greenberg and Rosenberg sanctified worth by theory became the norm, and mountains of verbiage have been written to support many slights of hand that masquerade as art. On a certain level, all art has a degree of entertainment to it and Heckenswerth’s balloon installation was certainly that. It had the wow factor. But for me, entertained as I was, I couldn’t help feeling that the effects and experience were shallow, a show piece for the MTV mentality. There was little that will be of lasting impact, few layers of meaning to be revealed, and no mystery to mine over the years. But it was fun and exciting to be a part of!

But to you Ms. Tognini, thank you for your passion and positive spirit. Your beautiful intention gives so much to so many.

After deciding not to hang out with 30,000 bikers rallying in Taos in honor of Vietnam Veterans for the Memorial Day weekend, we headed instead to Chaco Canyon, an amazing and sacred place for the Puebloan cultures of Native Americans some1200 years ago. The land and air is so heavily imbued with their spirit, it felt as if we were drinking in the essence of their culture. Rainbows shown in the evening and the arch of the Milky Way greeted us at three in the morning. After hiking in Chaco Canyon the next day we then reversed our travels heading back towards Santa Fe and went luxury, soaking in wonderful mineral springs at the Spa in Ojo Caliente, which was deeply healing. Next day was spent in Abiquiu to pay homage to Georgia O’Keefe. As fortune would have it, while on tour of her house, a passing thunderstorm forced the tour guide to improvise, and took us into O’Keefe’s bedroom, rarely scene by visitors, which is adjacent to her Studio. The humble nobility of the room and its embracing of the spectacular environment beyond, with its two floor to ceiling windows on a corner of the house, was an unforgettable experience. She was sixty two when she first moved into that house, but made so much of her mark as an artist after that point. Her drive, and singular connection with the land and her art where incredibly moving and inspiring.

The rest of the trip brought us to Bandelier National Forest and the Jemez Mountains for more camping, incredible landscape and appreciation of cultures past. Don’t want to sound like an over enthused tourist showing any one who will listen pictures, but it was an incredible time. Big sky and rugged land mixed with Latin, Mexican and contemporary New York/Euro culture all living under the shadow of the original peoples of this land, both past and present. Amazing!

My good friend Stuart Shils once said to me, “We’re just old dinosaurs. . . “  He, in his usual way, was ranting about what is the painters role in this day and age, when “virtual” is the norm. What is it we do, us painters, but smear pigmented oils on various surfaces in  a six hundred year old tradition. To do what? To emote,  express, decorate, illustrate, conjure, impress, earn a living? Not happy with those descriptions? OK then, lets bring this to a higher level. How about to inspire, to connect, to elevate, to evolve, to touch . . . one or any combination of these might be the painters motivation, but in terms of process, ultimately it always  gets down to the mechanics, creating marks on surfaces for whatever end. And so to this simple but all encompassing vehicle of communication, I would like to elaborate on the power of its magic.

The first image posted here is a detail of a colorful throw that is put over a woman’s lap in my painting, Waiting Woman, 1993. This painting was done from life on birch panel and was executed with both knife and brush. But without the clue of my description, you might simply have enjoyed the evocative power of its abstraction. What has always inspired me is thinking about the intention of the mark, what it is saying in relationship to its neighbors and when does it magically cross over into illusion. It’s this thin edge between a marks expressive power for its own sake and the conjuring of the thing it might be trying to evoke, that has always been the grist in my mill, the oil in my lamp. I remember in graduate school, my most influential teacher, Robert D’ Arista, talking about a painting I had done of a man. He pointed to the forehead in the painting and said, “Paul is never satisfied with the illusion, and there is a constant tug of war going on.” He was pointing to a mark that had not quite jumped, had not turned the corner and succumbed to the control of the illusion, a mark that I loved because it challenged the viewer to decide its fate.  Of course this notion is nothing new. Think Tintoretto, Rembrandt, Giacometti, Cezanne and on. The point being that marks are ultimately just that, marks, and nothing more. It is only when they are infused with intention that they are transformed, with skill and some luck,  into their designated role.

Here is another part of the same painting. Now the intention is to depict the figurative form, the pallet is more restrained and the calligraphy more docile, but the marks voices are still expressive and vibrant. Marks here are clearly meaning to convey an illusionistic resonance, with hue and value being managed in such a way as to provide the viewer with enough clues to decipher eyes, nose, mouth etc. It is ultimately though, simply a different arrangement of marks, still an abstraction, but with a illusionists slight of hand.

With every mark, there should be an intention. It can be improvisational and free of restraint, but its force needs to be rated in balance to the whole. Relationships between color and value, speed and direction, texture and density, all these characteristics with the additional illusion of space are manipulated to evoke an experience for the viewer. How poignant this becomes is dependent not only on the skill of the creator of these marks but the viewers personal and cultural predisposition. As with any artist, mastering the use of his tools is critical if the intended communication is to be understood. At a certain point, these tools become subconscious extensions of their muse creating pure expression, like Rostropovich’s bow, or Updike’s words. They are not thought of in isolation but are fluid manifestations of our creativity that can connect and inspire us on the deepest levels.

For the painter, slashes of pigment coalesce in the imagination, igniting percetions of common experience but in places we’ve never been, bonding viewer and creator in a synthesis of vision with endless potential. Such is the humble power of marks.