Paul Schumann and Viewing Contrasts

Spring is not officially here, but in Pennsylvania the colors associated with spring are starting to arrive. It seems like overnight the cherry blossoms have appeared and soon apple blossoms will follow. I am seeing the ending of winter contrasted by the start of spring. Below is an image from one of my walks through my neighborhood.

Cherry Blossoms, March 2012

I feel like my blog went into hibernation over the winter because of my less than frequent posts. Here I am highlighting another “Viewfinder” and the artwork of Paul Schumann. I think of Paul as a thoughtful and serious person, but he also has a sharp if hidden sense of humor.  Although he was educated as an artist and printmaker, he later went through training to become an army chaplain. Paul has a patient and steady personality that has allowed him to handle the stresses of recent tours in Afganistan. His patience is also evident in his artwork which merges observation with other worldly visions.

An image from Paul Schumann’s website.

Paul sent me a “Viewfinder” that seems to focus on observation (for information about the first “Viewfinder” and this project click here). However, what I found compelling was how it was juxtaposed with an ad for ornamental hunting knives that he also sent me. Of course he was joking about making this kind of object but it does point to a kind of conceptual chiaroscuro. This is also compelling because in a more literal way Schumann does focus on contrasts between light and dark values in much of his other work (example above). Wether it is the push and pull of seasonal change or the shift between contrasting color, seeing these extremes allow us to appreciate all that is between.

The ad that Paul sent to me.
Paul Schumann, Viewfinder, 6″ x 4 1/4″, Graphite, 2006

7:00 a.m. Start

I awoke this morning at 7:00 a.m. with acute anxiety (not exactly panic but likely related). My exhibit at Saint Joseph’s University is set to begin in 20 days. The opening is the first Thursday in March. Although tired from restless sleep, I was also jolted by racing thoughts. Building on earlier plans, I began to recall unrecorded details (Why didn’t I write this down sooner?). Now at 7:00 p.m. the picture frames have been ordered, artwork has been chosen, and a delivery plan has been considered. It’s a start, and now the postcard has arrived. Below is an image of my morning notes (a grab at order) as well as exhibit details from the postcard.


Here & Now: A View From Home

(To learn more about the “Viewfinder Project” see the original post.)

To the right of the computer is an Alvin Cutting Mat (for me this doubles as a mouse pad). Here I noticed the coordinates and measurements and realize my place. I am home.

Detail: Alvin Cutting Mat

Two “Viewfinders” that for me point to home are a house image by Pamela Delaura and a painting describing a map by Kariann Fuqua. Especially in the latter case, these images may not be directly connect to a sense of home. However, for me they have stirred a narrative. Images become transformed by what the viewer (in this case myself)  brings to the picture. Without the viewer’s interpretation an image lacks meaning. In a similar way, home is a place but it is also a collection of ideas and is built on personal connections.

Pamela Delaura, Sacked, Collograph & screen-print, 6in. x 4 1/4in., 2006

The interior of Pamela Delaura’s print (seen above) seems to refer to a microscopic or biological perspective. In this regard, I see the body as our most earthly home.

Kariann Fuqua, Viewfinder, painting, 6in. x 4 1/4in., 2006

Kariann’s “Viewfinder” (seen above) refers to a map where the curving dotted lines seem to indicate travel or hopping from island to island. I wonder if one can land and feel at home or is this a temporary sensation? Gazing back at the coordinates on my cutting mat, I consider how I decide an exact position. I suspect that thinking we are in the right spot (even if this is our illusion) is more comforting then aimlessness.

A View of Thanksgiving and Beyond

(To learn more about the “Viewfinder Project” see the original post.)

The Winter Solstice will take place (Thursday December 22, 2011) in a little over a month. This has allowed me to consider the qualities of darkness and its psychological range. Darkness will often illicit fear because it obscures sight and represents the unknown. However, darkness also provides the critical function of allowing the eyes to rest. Any relationship with light is bound to darkness (In a broader philosophical way this is expressed in yin and yang). This can become apparent when people pray. Often one’s eyes are closed, in this case putting oneself in darkness, in order to find an inner light.

Julie Mecoli’s “Viewfinder” (seen below) presents darkness in a multifaceted way. It contains cultural references and a range of material applications.  She explained to me that this piece reveals a view from her bathroom window of a cathedral. Cathedrals were built to bring in light through stain glass windows and to present devinity through architecture. Ironically, light often casts the exterior of these buildings as a less colorful compared to the surroundings.

Julie Mecoli, Viewfinder, 4 1/4 inches x 6 inches, (Media: ink, photocopy, tape), 2006

Another element in Mecoli’s “Viewfinder” is the portrait. In this case it is self-portraiture developed from observational drawings made using her bathroom mirror. Julie begins by making daily drawings on post-it notes. Then she photocopies them so that one portrait overlaps the next. This means that she feeds the same piece of paper through the copy machine multiple times. Thus, eventually the features of the figure begin to vanish into darkness. Julie told me that the copier can only take this procedure 10 times before it jams.

The layering process that occurs demonstrates how self observation can be intense and at times be destructive while also being a force for positive creative self realization. The portrait is but a representation of one side of ourselves and these portraits serve as reminder that we have a being and a likeness even in darkness.

Julie Mecoli, Dark Matter Gateway, 34cm x 16cm x 4cm, cast bitumen, 2009

Many of Mecoli’s other works feature a contrast between dark and light including a series of sculptures cast in bitumen (an example is seen above). These sculptures slowly change form over time and serve as a reminder that no matter how solid a form or idea it is subject to change depending on the right conditions. Julie has also made a series of drawings and blog posts related to the rehabilitation of her hand (one is featured below). Several of her fingers were crushed in an accident. I am happy to report that Julie is on the mend but do check out her drawings and writing.

Julie Mecoli, 18 January 2010 Post therapy New device to Bend fingers not cooperating crushed hand + wire cube

A Working View

(To learn more about the “Viewfinder Project” see the original post.)

Sometimes it is difficult to have a clear view or perspective. One’s mind may be so clouded with thoughts and worries that it is hard to stop and see what is immediate in front of oneself. Relief from this overly stimulated mind may include meditation techniques which center a person in the present. Art making can also shift a persons attention toward specific tasks and away from an overwhelming sense. Creative endeavors can lead to a sense of satisfaction brought about through focus, change, and invention. The key is to be engaged and to work. When doubt is set aside the results can be surprising.

For me, the following “Viewfinders” reflect these artists’ desire to work through problems in order to generate a less predetermined view. I say this because the layering of ink and paint in these examples point toward exploration rather than a succinct resolution. In the first two cases the work literally shows through to the other side of the paper

Eric Huebsch, Viewfinder, mixed media, 6in x 4 1/4in, 2006

Eric Huebsch shows a deftness when drawing a figure wearing rollerblades but the neck and head appear out of control (above). Not only is the neck elongated but I observe at least seven layers of media are used to create this part (e.g. ink, paint, collage,…). At the bottom is the statement “I knew you were no good”. Disturbing as this depiction may seems to be, I know some there is some “good”. No matter how painful a subject may appear the act of making art ultimately is a construction and an imagined representation that can become a focal point for dialogue.

Rebecca Vicars, Viewfinder, 4 1/4in x 6in, 2006

In the image above, Rebecca Vicars creates a view of a lush world full of growth. The description of space is loose and the painterly approach gives it the sense of a swampy wetland. A sense of control is tenuous; watercolor is applied here to provide unpredictable results. There has to be trust by the artist that through a committed effort the picture will come into focus.

Jennifer Peters, Viewfinder, monoprint, 2006

Jennifer Peters Viewfinder combines relief printing with what appears to be a monotype technique. The relief print requires carving to make a matrix that produces the print. What is carved here is premeditated, in the sense that the shapes are clearly defined, but how the shapes come together is less certain to me. The yellow marking, would make the final image a monoprint, was layered last as if to add an exclamation point. It seems to beg the question of when and what is too much? However, doing enough work to get to a point where this question becomes relavent is paramount.