Rotting Leaf: Sunshine Coast
- One of my “Loves”: Rock Surfaces, The Squamish Chief
American poet Ruth Whitman once said:
“In every art beginners start with models of those who have practiced the same art before them. And it is not only a matter of looking at the drawings, paintings, musical compositions, and poems that have been and are being created; it is a matter of being drawn into the individual work of art, of realizing that it has been made by a real human being, and trying to discover the secret of its creation”.
Mark Rothko was my model during my highschool years. I was obsessed with ”Red On Maroon. circa 1959″ in my art textbook and even folded the top corner page so I could have a glance at “Red On Maroon. circa 1959″ in math class and maybe sneak a peek before noon hour lunch. It was just an image. An image printed in thousands of art textbooks all over the world but for some strange reason this image marked the beginning of an unknown mysterious obsession with colour fields and the rendering of surfaces for me.
Clients have frequently asked me, “How did you find your artistic voice?” I believe that simply diving into our genuine passions keep the work personalized and creative discipline allow the work to evolve on a regular basis. Mentors or other artists who share the same sensibilities are also key. I have been fortunate enough to have many mentors in my life that have always passed on their words of wisdom.
In my previous post I stated why I chose ‘Motorcycles and Jellybeans’ as a title for my blog. In University, one professor told me to paint like you are riding on a Harley – to enjoy the process and freedom of art-making. Another professor, noticing that I had a love for colour encouraged me to paint in such a way where you are able to “taste” the piece. Years later I still remember these words but it was my experience in Japan that really helped me find my own technique and help me discover why I love to paint.
In Japan I was fortunate to have three mentors who taught me the importance of finding who you are as an artist. At our monthly visits to their studio spaces and coffee shops they shared many stories and many personal experiences as working artists and I thank them for their guidance. A printmaker – Shegheki Tomura, a painter – Eiichi Sugimura and a painter and printmaker – Hisashi Momose. All were forty years older and have been professional artists for more then two decades.
Eiichi Sugimura grew up in a small fishing town and was fascinated with the ocean, the colour turquoise, ultramarine blue and collecting beehives. His warm smile and caring demenor was contagious. His paintings evoked a strange sense of calmness and in others a sense of claustrophobia. Sugimura-san’s studio had quite high ceilings and as you looked upward you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious as the ceiling was covered in abandoned beehives. He was fascinated with beehives – small and large and had an enormous collection of them.
Hisashii Momose was obsessed with colour gradation and the patterned grid. He implied printmaking and painting techniques onto hand made Japanese rice paper. His studio was filled with trinkets from the hyaku yen shop (the japanese dollar store) all placed in a preferred coloured order. On one shelf, Sir Isaac Newton’s colour wheel of rubber bouncy balls, and on another a gradiant of white to black polished stones. Momose-san had a keen sense and passion for colour.
Shigheki Tomoura was a printmaker who loved nature. As a little boy he wanted to become two things: an artist and an astronaut. He lived behind a quiet and secluded forest where he walked through everyday before he worked on his prints. ”The mind and body are one” he would say, “how can one make wonderful work if they are not mentally and physically well…exercise and discipline are key to one’s artistic practice and success”. He was obsessed with the printmaking techniques of the Old Masters. When looking at his prints you felt like you were walking with him in the same forest, experiencing the same emotions he did that day. Tomura-san’s prints evoked such a strong sense of silence and awe. These three artists all shared their passions with me and enabled me to learn the importance of finding one’s genuine passions in artmaking.
Another mentor once told me to find “the butterflies in your gut”. This is what Mark Rothko’s “Red on Maroon. circa 1959″ would give me – those “butterflies in my gut.” Finally in 2007, almost fifteen years later, I stood frozen in front of “Red On Maroon. circa 1959″ at The Tate Modern in London, England. I will never discover the secret behind the creation of my beloved Mark Rothko painting but this is the quest for artists, the challenge – in trying to discover what you are drawn to in a work of art and finding in your own art making what gives you those “butterflies in your gut.” Eric Maisel states “Finding your voice may be as simple and straightforward as making a list of your loves.” What gives you “butterflies in you gut?” A gestural line, an expressive portrait, an urban landscape, a highly saturated colour, a glossy surface…? I would love to hear your comments.
Karen Bagayawa
