Cy Twombly 1928 – 2011

Yesterday the notable artist Cy Twombly passed away at the age of 83. His career began at a time post World War II where American artists delved into the world of the abstract. Where artists placed their canvas on the floor, created works entirely of blocks of color and where the real was communicated through shape, line and form in a way which it hadn’t been by artists on American soil.

Cy Twombly, Tiznit, 1953, white lead, house paint, crayon, and pencil on canvas

With the death of Twombly, we are now at a moment in history where many of these great artists have passed on. Their impact on the art world shifted the geographic focus to the US and paved the way for other movements such as Pop Art, Minimalism and the contemporary work we find today.

Having just started at 13FOREST Gallery, I couldn’t help but think of how the abstract work of Twombly and his contemporaries has led to the work showing in our current exhibition Space/Light/City.

Kenji Nakayama, QTP, 2011, enamel on MDF board

The pieces in Space/Light/City are abstract. Lynda Schlosberg works with layer over layer of acrylic brushstrokes, defined lines, dots, and circles that create a certain flux, a space within which the work itself moves. Dana Woulfe’s brushstrokes and use of spray paint emit a kinetic movement, seen in his use of black in his Cerulean Tree pieces. Wade Aaron’s work in the exhibition focuses on abstracted geometry while Kenji Nakayama utilizes script as his medium. Each artist meticulously creates the energy and atmosphere of their work, using abstraction as a way to communicate their message.

Wade Aaron, Semi-Precious 1, 2011, graphite, metal leaf on MDO plywood

There is no way to compare these works to those of the mid-20^th century without placing intention where there may be none (something which tends to happen regularly when discussing art). Their inspiration, intent, and process all differ from each other and from the work created in our recent history. Their brushstrokes and lines, their shadows and space, are all unique. Their existence, however, and their position as innovative contemporary artists working with the abstract, could perhaps be brought back to the motion of Pollock’s ‘drips’, the space and structure created by the Geometric abstraction of Newman’s ‘zips’, and the loops and script of Cy Twombly.

Dana Woulfe, Cerulean Tree 1 and 2, 2011, spray paint, ink & latex on board

By making their home in the abstract, the post-war artists, with their fluid brushstrokes, fields of color, and chaotic processes opened the door for a similar exploration of depicting the real through the abstract to be done today in exhibitions such as Space/Light/City.

Lynda Schlosberg, Falling, 2011, acrylic on panel

Jump in, the water's fine...

Fish Out Of Water opened Thursday, May 19. Above: Linda Cordner's encaustics.

Cordner's encaustics and Stephanie Mason's gyotaku fish rubbings with watercolor on rice paper.



A river of Jobi Pottery.

Defrost Artist Talk

On Thursday, April 21, three of the four artists represented in our current exhibition Defrost visited the gallery for a public talk and reception. The artists took time to describe their process and inspiration, and gave everyone greater insight into the show’s featured works.

Scott Francoeur spoke of how his interests in humanitarianism and historic events converged to form unlikely subject combinations in his work. In Defrost half of Francoeur’s paintings hint at experiences he had while performing relief work in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina; the other half stem from his interest in tsarist Russia and the mystic Grigori Rasputin. Once explained, the subject matter becomes evident in the artist’s abstract landforms and geometric grids.

Deborah Davidson described her conviction to limiting the means of art production as a way of clearing her brain. In other words, she told the crowd, she prevents herself from being consumed by the artistic process by using just a few materials and implements, such as vellum, sandpaper and old household scissors. In Defrost one of the results is Catalyst, in which layers of hand-cut, sanded vellum and paint build a surface that suggests words either fading from a wall or dangling midair like bundles of wisteria.


Maryalice Johnston recounted how breaking one of her arms in mid-2010 renewed her appreciation for silkscreening. While the injury affected her ability to paint, silkscreening became a convenient alternative because she could do it one handed. Bevy Scroll was born of chance during that period. Printed on a 2’x40’ roll of unused wallpaper, the work began as nothing more than a surface on which Johnston cleaned silkscreen stencils. Now suspended between two rollers, it emerged as a wonderful procession of human, animal and stellar images.

The points each artist touched upon allowed visitors to see these magnificent works, focusing on color and abstraction, in a fresh new light. Everyone at the reception agreed that it generated great admiration for the work presented in Defrost.

The Boston Printmakers Biennial

The Boston Printmakers 2011 North American Print Biennial featuring juror Jim Dine, at Framingham State University, February 27^th, running through May 1^st at The Danforth Museum of Art. Framingham, Massachusetts.

The event began with an interview conducted by MFA curator Clifford Ackley. After the interview, numerous questions were raised from the audience, one being:

“Mr. Dine, Seeing as how you are very successful and have homes in all sorts of places, do you find it difficult to create in those spaces, even though they are not your typical studio environment?”

To which he replied: “Well, luckily no... There is always a Home Depot within 15 miles..”

After listening to the interview of Jim Dine in the Dwight Hall auditorium of Framingham State University, I was left with a profound sense of unity between art and man. Jim Dine, in his aged esteem, peers over his scholarly spectacles and revisits past experiences in his artistic career with humorous anecdotes about friends, lovers, and materials with the audience. His commitment to producing art is an important aspect of his personality; never alluding to how much work is involved in achieving a given effect or how long something has taken to finally be in a finished state.

Jim Dine is an ordinary man, with extraordinary ability in printmaking. He is impatient and eagerly seeks out shortcuts/reduced methods of achieving effects. He even admits to having dabbled in the digital world of printmaking. However, his impetuous nature does not thwart his creative conscience; he never trashes a printing block, and constantly is revisiting older blocks for new inspiration

Having to choose 149 prints out of 2,064 works submitted by 811 artists, with little more than a rectangular digital jpeg image to reference, was no doubt exhausting. Of the work that Jim Dine chose to be in the Biennial, he chose nothing ordinary or that followed a trend—works that were unique and something that he could picture himself doing were paramount. Although there were no presuppositions of a theme present in the show, there are certain patterns. Naturalism (the beauty of form in nature) and the beauty of architecture in man-made spaces resonate through the show of prints.

Also on view is an artist that we show here at 13Forest Gallery, Susan Jaworski-Stranc whose reduction linoleum print Harbinger, was selected by Jim Dine as winner of the Legion Paper-East Award. It is a great “patina of a by-gone era” piece fitting of the theme of naturalistic form.

Thanks to the leadership of the Boston Printmakers president, Marc Cote, who also displays work at 13Forest Gallery, the biennial was a great success and showcased many artists, both known and unknown to the general public, giving printmaking an esteemed platform to showcase.

Public Art at Porter Square Station

Twice a week, I take public transportation from Brookline to Arlington to get to work at 13Forest. With such a long commute I have to plan my time perfectly, looking up train and bus times for the most efficient travel. While most MBTA users are worried about buses and trains running late, I've learned that I should be primarily concerned with how long it takes me to get off the T at Porter and make it to street level.

The Porter Square T stop is the deepest station in the Boston area, descending 105 feet below ground. The station contains three levels, connected by escalators and stairs. Together, the escalators reach 143 feet, and the stairs next to them contain 199 steps. The first time I discovered how far below I was I stared at the escalators in disbelief and became annoyed at how tedious the ascent would be. But over the past few weeks I have noticed the public art in the station, and now the walk up the escalator isn't so bad.

The public art featured in the station is titled Glove Cycle, by Mags Harries. The piece is an installation of bronze castings of lost gloves flowing down the escalator and scattered throughout the station. The work is part of the Arts on the Line program, created by the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, and was commissioned for $30,000. The gloves are placed all around the station, on the escalators, in a corner pile, and even incorporated into the platform floor. Harries' statement on the piece notes that "the subway station is a daily ritual; a controlled pathway designed to move commuters as efficiently as possible. The positioning of the cast-bronze glove pieces echo the pattern and pauses of this ritual to make a sculptural narrative. The narrative begins at the subway’s token booth and ends on the train platform, a subway life cycle. The cycle brings commuters a sense of continuity as they go underground and return to the surface." The artist has also mentioned that the piece reflects abandoned gloves that get lost under winter snow and are revealed again in the spring. I believe this comment on the arrival of spring and renewal is something everyone in New England can appreciate.

I now look forward to walking through Porter and spotting the gloves. I've noticed that each time I walk through I discover a hidden glove that I had not seen the previous time. This element of surprise is something I believe is very important in art. Just like a painting that keeps drawing you in with hidden details, this sculpture and concept created by Harries continues to amaze me every week.

Print Editioning

Most art collectors have become familiar with the numbers written at the bottom of prints. These scribbles are edition numbers, referring to the amount of prints an artist chooses to make of a single image. There are two ways to approach making an edition, either with a numbered edition or a limited edition. Numbered editions do not set a predetermined number of prints; whereas a limited edition sets a finite amount of prints that will be produced. Each approach has its own advantages and disadvantages. So how does an artist choose which approach to use in his/her art making? And if they choose a limited edition, how do they choose the number of prints to make?

In printmaking, limited editions are necessary due to the nature of production. Printmaking plates (done on surfaces such as copper, wood, and stone) must be inked and run through a press for every print and, in turn, causes a deterioration of the plate and lower quality of the image. In contrast, the purpose of limited editions in photography can cause confusion. The process of using a negative to make a photograph poses no damage to the negative. Since no degradation is caused to the negative, why does the artist only print a limited amount of images?

Usually, these limited editions have more to do with artistic choice than artistic necessity. It's simple: the higher the price of a print, the fewer buyers there will be. The number of prints in an edition greatly depends on the artists intent for the life of the image and how widespread they want their image to be. If a large amount of prints are made, the cheaper they will be and this results in more available buyers. This allows the art to be seen by a wider audience and to sell quicker. But some artists have developed a more finite approach, where they make fewer prints for more money. The artist chooses a set number of prints to make and will not go back on their choice. Some photographers even destroy their negatives after making their limited edition to ensure that no new prints can be made. Once these prints are sold if a new buyer really wants the image they must now buy from a private owner. This process drives up the price even more.

Deciding the number of the edition can be based on a variety of factors such as size, intricacy, deadlines, and how much time making a print will consume. It is important for consumers to understand that an artists puts manual labor into every individual print, and the number of prints made greatly depends on the available time and energy of the artist. Artists are constantly on a schedule to produce work so deadlines become a deciding component in the amount of prints made. The number of prints an artist chooses to make also depends on the purpose they intend for their art. If the intent is to be more exclusive, they will produce fewer prints, but for a higher price per print. If the intent is to provide their art to a larger market of viewers then they will create more prints at a more affordable price. Overall, there is no standard, no rules, and no guide when it comes to editioning prints. Artists must contemplate how they wish their art to be perceived and bought before making their final decision.

Blu in Los Angeles

The LA Museum of Contemporary Art recently asked Italian artist Blu to paint a mural on its exterior walls. The partnership made sense given MOCA's stated interest in contemporary artists and Blu's widely popular graffiti aesthetic as a painter and videographer. And how timely! The mural would be in place in time for MOCA's exhibition of street art scheduled to open in April.

Go, Blu! He worked diligently on the mural as the museum's leaders were attending an international art event in Miami, and was nearly done by the time they returned. But therein was a problem - they returned. With only a few days left before Blu could finish loading the walls up with images of coffin-hugging dollar bills, MOCA Director Jeffrey Deitch handed him a cease-and-desist order. A few days later, what had been shaping up as a potent anti-war statement was whitewashed out of existence. Unfortunately for the museum, the whitewashing has left it apparently veiled in gentle sheets of toilet paper (see below).

In the wake of this, people are debating whether the museum is guilty of censorship. It's an interesting discussion...I suppose...for those who have a distaste for evidence. There's a broader, more interesting question to be asked, one that kicks at the shins of art as a commodity. Would any museum present contemporary art (particularly street art) if the museum couldn't blunt its political power with contextualizing placards and docent tours? This was asked by quite a few people in Boston during last year's ICA mega-exhibition of work by street artist Shepard Fairey.

Read what Fairey, on whose coaster your coffee mug might now be resting, has to say about the incident in the December 14 edition of the LA Times. Better yet, for a worthwhile read, bookmark Blu's blog and read it every once in a while. Also, watch the short video Muto for an example of his work. Quite amazing is he.