M. Pia De Girolamo

Gray Seashore by M. Pia De Girolamo 2012 © Acrylic on Canvas 36" x 36"

I do most of my work in the solitude of my studio. It is quiet; I don’t play music (except once in a great while). I do hear bird sounds and the wind or rain and I have large windows that look out onto some backyard woods. I am not a complete recluse, however; I very much enjoy the company of friends. They feed my soul and I hope I feed theirs.

Just a couple of days ago I caught up with an artist friend who I had not seen for many months and had not even talked to by phone or email, which was unusual. I knew she must have had a lot going on. She was on my “to call” list and I finally was able to cross that item off.  I found out that she had been deeply involved with helping her daughter who was anticipating the birth of a child. There had been some frightening moments but all was eventually resolved happily just a week or so ago.

My friend is a few years older than I am and has gone through some soul-trying times that have shaped her. I find her perspective invaluable. It is obvious that she has done the hard work of self-examination because when she speaks I know what she says sounds right and true. She is a joyful person and I’d call her an “enlightened” one as well. 

We speak about family, art, our former careers and our present calling. We’ll look at each other’s work, talk about the nitty gritty of technique, and swap info about the best places to look for deals on supplies. We examine artists whose work inspires us and investigate venues where we might show. Together, we weave a complex fabric of past, present and future that we can wrap around ourselves like a blanket as we go forward with our lives and work.

Friends do not just show up at one’s door announced these days. It takes a conscious effort to keep up with them. I have found that the throw away line “we’ll have to get together soon” must be accompanied by an immediate setting of a date, otherwise, the intended meeting never materializes. We’ve all got work to do, but good friends make our lives richer and I’m convinced that they make our work better too.

My friend, artist Tom Hlas has written 2 blog posts recently at http://tomhlas.com/blog/ that have got me thinking about the issue of originality in art. In his posts “Too Much Art” and “The Bigger Picture” he expresses the worry that his work (beautiful, by the way) may look too similar to that of another artist, and that looking at other artists’ work may be too influential on his own.  

Recalling Precious Moments w You by Tom Hlas © 2009 Acrylic on canvas 18" X 18"

We know that originality is a concern for even the most famous artists since they have left us many pronouncements on the subject.  For example, Picasso is quoted as saying  “…since of necessity my vision is quite different from that of the next man, my painting will interpret things in an entirely different manner even though it makes use of the same elements.”

Arshile Gorky deliberately imitated Picasso’s still lifes in order to understand the master’s work. "Gorky’s rejection of originality as a goal…also deeply affected [his good friend] de Kooning. "Aha, so you have ideas of your own", Gorky told de Kooning  when he first looked at his work. "Somehow," said de Kooning, "that didn’t seem so good." The critic, Harold Rosenberg notes that this exchange transformed de Kooning’s approach to painting and prompted the realization that “Even inventing a thing that had already been invented was an act of creation." (from de Kooning, An American Master, by Stevens and Swan, p. 103) 

There was a time when the ability to make art that looked like someone else’s was the paramount goal. It amazed me to find out that ancient Egyptian art remained essentially the same for about 5000 years! Imagine the poor ancient Egyptian artist who dared to draw someone’s full face; surely he was doomed to “swimming with the crocodiles”! Byzantine icon painters created highly stylized figures in a traditional manner. The apprentices in the ateliers of the great Renaissance painters had to learn to paint like their masters-so they could help finish their massive works. Even when the revolutionizing modernists came to the fore in the 20^th century, representational art was declared passé and many felt an artist had to paint abstractly in order to be taken seriously.

Sunflower by M. Pia De Girolamo © 2012 Monotype on paper 30" x 22"

Our society on the other hand imposes its own tyranny,ferociously prizing that which appears original, different and new--every few months, it seems.  Got the latest iPhone/iPhone app anyone? Again, an artist counters with a wise observation to keep things in perspective. Robert Rauschenberg reminds us that “Having to be different is the same trap as having to be the same.”  

(Robert Genn’s “The Painter’s Keys” http://quote.robertgenn.com/auth_search.php?authid=75  was the source of the quotes by Picasso and Rauschenberg).

Through the Veil by M. Pia De Girolamo © 2012 Acrylic on Canvas 36" x 36"

An artist, Joyce Wycoff, who I follow on Twitter and Facebook wrote a blog post http://joycewycoff.blogspot.com/2012/01/artist-statements-evaluation.html about creating a strong artist statement. We corresponded about ways to craft a good one and she suggested a helpful (and fun) exercise which consisted of writing down at least 15 sentences describing "why I am an artist".

I made my list and recently while  revisiting it, I noticed certain words and phrases which jumped off the page and I highlighted them. Here they are:

Energized

Euphoric

Connected

Delight

Powerful

Sharing

Interacting

Extraordinary

Enriched

Insight

Heightened awareness

Precious gift

Accepting

Bursting to come out

I'm sure the artists among you will claim all or some of these powerful words but I think that many apply to the experience of the viewers of art as well. The viewer, when really engaged with the art, will feel the same things as the artist who created it.

"Pompeii" by M. Pia De Girolamo © 2012. From sketchbook. 

Acrylic paint, Mixed Media, 9" x 12"

When I was a kid, there were few things I liked better than buying a new sketchpad. I’d feel the paper, testing the weight and texture between my fingers. It had to be not too thin, not too thick, not too smooth, not too rough-as in the Goldilocks story, it had to be “just right”.  I relished seeing the clean white pages and couldn’t wait to mark them up with the drawing pencil or pen and ink.

Nowadays, I like to be able to use a variety of media like watercolor, acrylic, and glues in my sketchpads. I can also be pretty strenuous in making marks on the paper with pencil, pen or water-soluble wax crayon  (Caran D’Ache crayons are wonderful-pricey but worth it). The paper has to withstand the handling without tearing and with minimal warping, if I use liquid media. 

After testing a bunch, over the years I’ve hit on 2 sketchpad brands that I use consistently. The first is Canson’s Mix Media (yes, it says Mix Media and not Mixed Media, maybe it’s a translational thing because I think they’re French) in 9” x 12” size. The second is Aquabee‘s Super Deluxe pad in 9” x 6” size, which is great to fit in a pocketbook or if I’m traveling and bringing only a small bag. Both are designed for wet and dry media. The larger Canson pad has perforations so you can easily rip out a nice drawing and give it to someone as a gift! Both papers are acid free and so should not yellow over time. 

"Ship" by M. Pia De Girolamo © 2012. From sketchbook.

Caran D'Ache water soluble crayons. 6" x 9".

It’s fun to experiment with different surfaces but it makes life easier when you have  “go-to” items that you can reach for time and again and be assured of consistent results. 

Door to the Desert by M. Pia De Girolamo 2012©

Acrylic on Canvas 36' x 36'

In my last blog post I mentioned starting a group of paintings and monotypes that “talk to each other” and mesh texture, graphics, color, form and space. 

Windows by M. Pia De Girolamo 2012©

Monotype 30' x 22'

I’ve been working with earth tones, reds/oranges and complementary blues. The Akua soy-based inks I use for the monotypes layer beautifully like glazes in painting and really glow. I am using a variety of techniques in the paintings including some glazing, sgraffitto, addition of texture mediums and collage.

You can see the first results here http://www.piadegirolamo.com/gallery/78721/New%20Work.

Door and Boat (working title) by M. Pia De Girolamo © 2012.

36" x 36" Acrylic and found objects on canvas. 

I’ve been making a lot of monoprints lately, having set up a space in my basement and also working at Main Line Art Center on the big etching or roller press.  However I am also committed to getting into the studio to paint. My goal is to make a group of prints and paintings that “talk to each other” as it were.  What they’ll be talking about concerns meshing texture, graphics, color, form and space.  Much to my delight, "Door and Boat" emerged yesterday on canvas! In case you were wondering, "door" is piece of canvas and "boat" an incised cardboard packing material.

I’ll keep you posted on new work in this evolving group of paintings and prints….

Labyrinth at St. Thomas Church, Whitemarsh, PA

For reasons now forgotten, a few weeks ago I was looking up labyrinths on the internet and found to my surprise there was a large one installed practically “in my own backyard”, on the grounds of St. Thomas’ Church in Whitemarsh, PA.  It is a replica of a labyrinth that is inlaid in the floor of Chartres Cathedral in France. It is speculated that the medieval labyrinth may have provided a path for prayerful walking but from what I gather, this is not conclusive. Today, however, walking a labyrinth is put forth as a meditative exercise. You follow the same path into the center as it twists and turns and follow the same path out. There are no dead ends or branches. The process is said to quiet the mind.

Today, feeling cooped up, a little irritable, and in need of a walk despite the gloomy, drizzly day, I took myself over to St. Thomas’ and located the labyrinth on the grounds.  Walking at a regular pace, I made my way in.  I found I was just the slightest bit off balance when it came to the switch-back turns, which made me focus on the walk. I think that because of that focus my head was cleared of the cobwebs I had brought in with me. I became aware of the reflections of surrounding trees in the puddles on the ground, the abstract patterns made by horse chestnuts and oak leaves strewn across the path, and the sounds of birds and distant traffic. 

I got home and began to get to work in the studio. I made a small collage but I spent most of the time preparing for new projects by writing an art supply shopping list, collecting materials I already had, and building stretcher frames.  Do I think the labyrinth walk helped me focus on getting that preparatory phase going?  Very possibly. Was it enjoyable and calming and did it provide a little exercise, balance training, and fresh air? Definitely. Will I do it again? Yes, I will.

The Backyard Monotype by M. Pia De Girolamo ©2012

If you’ve seen my posts on my Facebook artist page you’ll know I’ve recently been working on monotypes. A few years ago I learned printmaking techniques from instructor Christine Stoughton at the Main Line Art Center, Haverford, PA.  Being a painter, I gravitated toward the monotype or monoprint as it is also sometimes called, because it combined what is essentially painting with printmaking technique and aesthetic.

Several years ago before I learned the technique, I bought a large monotype and in talking to the gallery owner about how it was made I had trouble visualizing the process.  It was a print but it was marked "1/1" meaning there was only one and it was not part of an edition (a limited run of multiple prints made using a wood- or linocut block or etching plate.) But if that was the case, how was it a print and not a painting? The image had not been incised but rather painted on a plexiglass plate, applied to paper and run through a hand-cranked roller press. 

If I once had trouble picturing the process, you might too so I thought I’d walk you through and show some photographs of the basic steps.  Because I am working in my home studio and do not own a manual printing press I am using a burnishing tool (the back of a flat wooden spoon).   If you have an Art Center nearby you can often pay a small fee for open studio time using their full-size press.  

Mixing the inks

Using Akua (non-toxic, soy-based) inks from Rostow and Jung, I use a palette knife, paintbrush and/or roller to apply the ink to a plexiglass plate (buy at art supply store or ask Home Depot to cut to size). I have found that mixing a little release agent into the paint helps the inks transfer more easily when home printing. I also use blending agent when brushing on paint to blend strokes.

Applying the ink

Inked plate with scraped off negative spaces

I may scrape off ink in areas to allow the white of the paper to show through and be part of the composition.  Using other scraping “tools” like sponges, brushes, pieces of netting, etc. will create textured effects.

A key point to remember is that what you paint on the plate will be reversed when you print! Even when working in a very abstract and spontaneous way there may be a consistent pattern in which you apply your paint that is satisfying to you. If you don’t take this into account, you will be surprised, pleasantly or unpleasantly as the case may be, by the resulting composition of your piece. The print-making process can thus reveal an aspect of your practice previously unknown to you.

Plate inkside down on paper

 Flipped inked plate and paper

After painting and scraping, I very carefully place the plate ink side down on special printing paper (I got a good deal from Utrecht; BFK Rives and Arches make excellent papers), press down, then carefully flip over the plate and paper together.

With strong downward pressure, I begin to burnish the back of the paper with the flat of the spoon and sometimes use a pin press (like a very heavy rolling pin) to get maximal transference of ink to paper. I lift up the corners to peek and rub some more until satisfied with the result.  I can repeat the process by re-inking the same other plates and layering on color if I choose, or stop there.  If there is enough ink on the plate I might be able to eke out one more print called a “ghost”, due to its delicate, ephemeral look. 

Plate with re-inked areas at the bottom

Unforeseen results occur as the ink gets “squished” onto the paper. It takes time and practice to be able to control the transfer of ink. The print can turn out too light if there’s not enough ink, or “blobby” in areas of too much ink. Here I have added more ink to the plate and then I re-printed. I did this several times with this print. The finished monotype is at the start of the blog post. It helps to start with easy compositions and smaller papers before attempting more complex subjects and larger sizes.

A great printmaking resource: Rostow and Jungs website http://www.waterbasedinks.com/

One of my Christmas presents this year was a Japanese fountain pen. You can see it in the photo above. There are two cranes on it. The word for crane in Japanese is “tsuru”-don’t ask me how I remember this. I learned the word sometime in childhood and it got stuck in the folds of my brain somewhere. I think it’s because it’s fun to say. There is also the iconic Mt. Fuji, and at the bottom of the pen, a glistening blue stream, hinting perhaps at the flow of writing that is to issue forth from the golden nib.

It is a “fine writing instrument”, a Lexus of pens so to speak. I took it out for a test drive on some really nice thick paper in one of those leather-bound notebooks and indeed it worked beautifully. Well-balanced, it is a nice size for my hand. The ink flows easily; the line is a little thicker than I would have chosen for myself but it is “juicy” and that’s fun too.

Just before the holidays I was browsing in a used bookstore and found a copy of Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, which is a creativity jump-starter and aid for blocked artists.  I had skimmed it a couple of years ago and found it interesting but never felt the need to do any of the exercises.  Not that I was blocked creatively now, but just before and after Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s getting into the studio can get a little tricky so I figured I’d pick and choose and try some of the exercises. Since I like writing and find it also helps me clarify direction in the studio, I decided to start Cameron’s recommended  “morning pages”. Every morning you pour forth three pages about anything and everything, being as honest as possible with all your hopes, fears, plans, ideas etc.

The morning pages function as a sort of meditation or even prayer, if you will.  You are supposed to write these pages out in long hand as opposed to on the computer. My guess is it's because it mimics that act of mark-making in painting, and therefore is probably connected to firing up the area of the brain that executes that task.

Initially, I put the “The Japanese Pen” aside as it was the kind of pen one reserves for greeting cards or lovely leather-bound notebooks and not for writing on the cheapo paper I was calligraphically regurgitating onto every morning. Moreover, the notebook I was using was one of my sons’ old school notebooks from last year that still had lots of paper in it. Cameron says to go out and treat yourself to a beautiful notebook for this purpose but I figured it was better to use what was at hand rather than procrastinate ‘til I went out to hunt for a special one.

Then I realized that not using the pen was like that tendency not to use “the good dishes”, reserving them for the company that comes every blue moon. We used our “good dishes” every day so why shouldn’t I use “the good pen”?!  So I did and am now happily “wasting ink” every morning. I notice my hand and arm aren’t getting writer's cramp and the ideas are flowing. I may not have followed Julia’s advice to get a special notebook but at least I am using a special pen!!

Study for a Commission, Brushes program on iPad

It’s January 6, so happy Epiphany to you!  In Italy, on the eve of the Epiphany, La Befana, a magical old lady, brings gifts to the children in commemoration of the gifts of the Magi to the Christ child in the stable.

I love the word, “epiphany” as in “I’ve had an epiphany!” used to describe an “aha!” moment.  From the Greek word meaning “to reveal”, an epiphany is, in the words of Wikipedia, “the result of significant labor on the part of the discoverer …so surprising because one cannot predict when one’s labor will bear fruit”.  When epiphanies are discussed, the “significant labor” part is often forgotten! 

It’s interesting to contrast the underlying meaning of the Epiphany with the New Year’s holiday. At New Year’s we are encouraged to “make resolutions” as if we could will these goals into being by our own conscious ferocious effort alone. Epiphany instead seems to imply an act of receptivity but not in a passive way; the hard work has got to come first and you have to have faith that the “aha” moment will arrive when it’s good and ready and not necessarily when you want it to. 

It is like this in the studio.  How many times does a painting “problem” arise and only to be resolved when you “play” with it and see what happens as opposed to imposing a solution. Sometimes it’s months or years later that the solution arrives.

In wishing you Happy New Year I also wish you many great epiphanies for 2012!

• Blog Home
• Archives
• Subscribe To This Blog

• The Art of Friendship
• How to drive yourself crazy as an artist: obsess about originality
• Powerful Words
• Tools of the Trade: Sketchpads
• Fresh Work-Come and Get It!
• Sneak Peek
• Lost and Found in a Labyrinth?
• So, What is a Monotype?
• The Japanese Pen and "The Artist's Way"
• Painting Epiphanies.

• Insights [10]
• Travel and Art [3]
• Painting Technique [2]
• Monotype Technique [1]
• Abstract Painting [6]
• Review of Exhibit [2]
• Exhibiting Art [1]
• General [1]
• Art Education [1]
• Art Show Review [0]