Thursday, May 17, 2007

Drawing With Scissors







As I was sweeping my studio tonight, and wondering where I put my dust broom, my involvement with various sized paper shards— strewn about my floor and stubbornly refusing to be corralled— had me thinking about Mr. Henri Matisse.

Of course, by the time Matisse started “drawing with scissors” as they say, he was pretty successful, and actually worked from his bed, so he likely had an assistant or two to sweep up his discarded paper. See the picture above (from http://www.princetonol.com/groups/iad/peeves/petpeeves.html) for a view of Matisse working his magic on paper.

Specifically, I was thinking of my friend Kevin Murphy and his wife Rachel. Who, along with their capital “B” Beautiful daughter Mia came to visit my studio— 617 Midway— during Fort Point Spring Art Walk this year.

Rachel turned her head to me after looking at “Sources” and “Coast to Coast,” with Mia exploring the cookie plate under the watchful eyes of her Dad. “You must love Matisse,” Rachel said, and I smiled.

It is hard not to see Matisse’s ghost in these new works. I am cutting paper into shapes and affixing them to canvas after all— I am using bright, bright colors (Matisse is reported to have said “Seek the strongest color effect possible.. the content is of no importance”)— and I am rendering the female form at times, which Matisse did incredibly,

I have worked on and off on an essay— or a group of essays— tracing the true physical revolution of Modernist and Postmodernist art by analyzing the shifting relationships between artist, art, and audience. Matisse is a major component of this, as his shift to using scissors to draw is a major physical shift in how an artist would address new work.

Add in ideas like de Kooning drawing with his eyes closed, or Pollock painting “off” the canvas by dripping, and you begin to notice a dramatic shift in how art has been produced over the past 100 years versus the years and years before that.

Like it or not, this obvious shift in production methods (and then in approaching an audience a la Smithson’s “Spiral Jetty,” or Banksy’s “graffiti”) which goes on to include the further removal of the artist’s hand through conceptual art, assemblage, inclusion of “found” objects, etc., etc. (use of computers to have audiences “create” the art through making choices) and there is an obvious shift in the relationship between artist and art.

I believe that this shift of the artist moving further and further away from the “canvas” has actually created a greater intimacy between artist and audience. To demonstrate this, I always think of the Hans Namuth photos of Jackson Pollock painting becoming just as iconic of the artist as the paintings themselves. Audiences wanted to push beyond the art to find out what was going on with the artist, and this shift in relationship— much of it begun in some way by Matisse— has allowed this.

All that said, I don’t feel as connected to Matisse as with the influence philosophically and artistically I have with many American post-war artists. But, he is obviously incredible. See above for a picture of his “Snow Flowers,” from 1951, found at the Metropolitan Museum of Art website (http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/mati/ho_1999.363.46.htm).


I have looked everywhere and I can’t find it… but there is a quote by Matisse after he comes out of cancer surgery and is in recovery (which led to his paper cuts as a technique for continuing to produce art). Rather than being sad, he had this epiphany that not only was he alive and well, but he was actually the great artist, Henri Matisse… and he began a greater celebration of his work. The paper cuts that result bear this celebration of creativity and wonder. One of my favorites (and the photos of him working on this series from his bed are amazing) is his design for Interior of the Chapel of the Rosary, Vence from 1950. The picture of the chapel above is from http://www.centrepompidou.fr/education/ressources/ENS-matisse-EN/popup10.html, and the pictures of the designs in exhibition are from http://www.frankfurtlounge.de/highlightsMatisseEnglisch.htm. I always think of Rothko similarly designing the Rothko chapel at the end of his life, just as Matisse worked on his.

But, back to the paper cleanup. I am prepping to start my next piece, and like to begin with a reasonably clean studio. De Kooning used to wake up every Sunday and clean his studio mercilessly— scrubbing the floors, etc. etc.— which probably ties in to some other theme about artists and chapels and Sundays.

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