Mirrors into Thought

I’m busy painting koi these days, doing my own version of Monet’s Nympheas idea, living as it were in imaginary pools of water, becoming it sometimes seems a fish myself, so immersed I am in a world of blue.  So, it’s intriguing to reencounter a work like this drawing of flowers and to find so many similarities in it to the fishes and the pool. 

Though the colors are entirely different and the associations are quite opposite, this picture bears a mirror likeness to the koi ponds.  This similarity is made all the more mysterious by their oppositions.  One takes place outdoors, the other inside the house.  One is natural, the other is civilized and artificial.  One is vertical, the other horizontal.  But inside both pictures are formal means of ordering the visual idea.  Both images have a “swirl” of sorts as its schematic center.  The implicit visual movement of the flowers in their design, both the flowers in the vase and the ones arranged on the design of the cloth, echo the swimming motions of the fish in their pond. 

I’ve noticed this kind of visual metaphor before in my paintings.  I have no idea what it means.  Beneath the subject matter lies a process of ordering and arranging that is as much the subject of the painting as are the objects depicted.  Somehow in the precise ways I order things, my personality lies hidden. 

It might seem that a person’s way of ordering ideas would be the last thing about themselves that they would “hide,” and yet I only discover these facts of self-hood for myself by this very indirect means.  And without even realizing I was doing so, naturally I reveal something of myself to others also by these tacit devices.

We project ourselves outwards upon the world in myriad ways.  Just that sense one has of knowing people, of taking the measure of them, even of people that we just meet when we make those crucial “first impression” judgements — all these effects are signs of the self that is foisted out.  Even a shy self is thrust onto the stage of life despite one’s efforts to seek shelter. 

We are all actors on the stage as William Shakespeare once keenly observed.  For the artist the picture is but another kind of garment one wears to demonstrate and manifest the self to the world.

A picture is a strange mirror because it distorts as much as it reveals, pressing ideas outward into the world in a thousand disguises.  Yet behind all forms of concealment, one person peeks through.  Paint.  Do paint, and I guarantee you’ll gain self-knowledge though you may not always recognize the face you see in painting’s strange mirror.
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[Top of the post:  Drawing of Flowers in a Vase, by Aletha Kuschan, Caran d'ache on Canson paper]

I am in full fish-mode

A very pencil-y fish here, where lines wiggle like waves of motion in the stream of ideas.  This one has lovely dots, too.  When my daughter was a baby and got her first lessons in art, they consisted of me dotting a paper over which she crawled, which I did while saying, “dot, dot, dot, dot” as I watched her laugh and squeal with delight.

[Top of the post:  Drawing of a Fish I named Pixel, by Aletha Kuschan, pencil]

Fourth of July, Some Fireworks!

Look very closely to see why this is Fireworks. (See the landscape, the little house and trees on the dark horizon of this sunset scene with floral fireworks.)  I saw this wonderful painting by Donna Phipps Stout this past spring where it was still available for sale.  Can’t vouch for its availability now, but interested parties should contact the Jerald Melberg Gallery in Charlotte, NC.  Please mention that you saw Stout’s painting here!  I think her fireworks are lovely for celebrating this Fourth of July.  Our hot dogs (actually “Good Dogs by Yves” — we’re vegetarians) are heating up right now.  To all Americans finding this post, Happy Independence Day to you!  To visitor’s from other countries, wish you could be here for our party!  Please consider yourself a virtual guest!  And welcome!

[Top of the post:  Fireworks, by Donna Phipps Stout, oil on panel, 48 x 50 inches, Jerald Melberg Gallery, Charlotte, North Carolina]

Alice’s Mouse

As you can see she like’s it with hotsauce. Fish, of course, is the main course.  Alice has very nice decor, wouldn’t you agree?  Hmm, got milk?

[Top of the post:  Alice's Table, by the kid]

Bonnard’s white jug now mine

This is the third (and last) little copy I made while strolling among Bonnard’s paintings at an exhibit in 2003.  Now it’s a stroll down memory lane. 

The poignant thing about an exhibit like that, when it’s an artist whose works you really love, is the transcience of it.  Bonnard’s paintings will appear together in other future exhibits, sometime, somewhere. But each time you have a chance to see works together this way, you know that you are not likely to see them again — at least not in ensemble.  Some of them one is unlikely to ever see again, unless one happens to be the most assiduous globe trotter, for normally they are scattered everywhere.

This white jug (that’s what it is) appears in the same painting as the orange jug, on the table in the Dining Room overlooking the Garden of the Museum of Modern Art in New York.  My copy of the white jug turned out to be rather less legible than the orange jug.  (The yellow circle is the rim of the jug, and its bright interior is blue.) However, the fuzziness is Bonnardesque in its own way.  This little jug is a very tender keepsake to me.  From it rises up memories of veils of color from Bonnard’s scintillating and chalky colored surfaces, of his dining room and its primeval forest beyond.

[Top of the post:  Notebook drawing after Bonnard, by Aletha Kuschan]

I’m an Artist

Strictly entre nous, I paint and draw, and I post my work here.  In some circles, however, that would not be enough.  In certain fancy art circles, drawing and painting is not what makes one an artist.  And it is so unfair that one has to defend oneself this way.  I can do conceptual art if I so desire.  It’s just rarely that I desire. 

In fact, I posted pictures of my parents’ refrigerator once at another site and offered it for sale.  The price was very reasonable.  Unfortunately, before I could get the marketing thing really rolling, the refrigerator broke and had to be replaced.  The heavy art object had to be turned over to someone who wasn’t even a collector — certainly he was no connoisseur.

Thus alas, the deal fell apart before ArtNews ever even got wind of it.  Well, sometimes we have to suffer for art.  But on the upside, at least my parents have cold milk and vegetables again.

I may yet sell the refrigerator in my apartment.  It doesn’t belong to me, but that’s merely a minor detail.  In art lingo, we call that “appropriation.”  I hear Jeff Koons does it all the time.

If after reading this, you find your heart set upon owning one of these works, contact me.  I’m sure I can work something out.  After all, I’m an artist.  We’re “creative.”

[Top of the post:  Conceptual Refrigerator Art, by Aletha Kuschan]

Ants on the March

Of course, with summer you’re going to get some close encounters with insects.  It simply goes with the territory.  Might as well just invite them to the picnic. 

[Top of the post:  Child's Drawing of Ants along with Ant Stickers, collage detail, by Aletha Kuschan and kid]

Vertical Flowers

I love summer.  Some people complain about the heat.  Not me.  I complain about people who complain about the heat.  I love the heat.  I bask in the heat like a turtle.  I’m not talking about getting a suntan, mind you.  That’s bad for your health.  I’m talking about a sitting in deep shade, sweat still pouring off me, sweltering in the 90% humidity and loving it kind of appreciation of summer.  I’ll admit: a breeze can be good too.

So, I love to paint summer pictures.  I’m not the only one enjoying humidity.  Plants love humidity, and they grow like crazy, and I like to see them grow.  When summer gets really maniac with stuff growing everywhere, I’m in heaven.

I love the round, billowing forms of folliage on trees.  I love fonds of grass, the scribbly texture of weeds growing with abandon.  I love the texture, the layers, the depths, the color, and the long hours of daylight.  Consequently I enjoy painting images like the one above, summers of fact, and summers of imagination.

[Top of the post:  Crepe Myrtles in August, by Aletha Kuschan, acrylic on canvas]

 

Free For All

I’m so pooped.  Been drawing in a way I’m not accustomed to, making a rather detailed drawing in colored pencil.  Included in the picture I worked on today are rows of fonds of Rousseau-esque tropical plants.  I have to count the leaves to keep track of what I’m doing, and it’s just about driving me bonkers!

A good antidote would be something like the above.  I made this collage in my studio one afternoon for the sake of a photograph and then disassembled it, keeping the better fragments and consigning the remainder to the dumpster.  It was something fun to do.  Things like this make good designs for kids’ murals.  This one has some genuine kids’ drawings in it.  It was physical and fast, measuring about 80 x 80 inches.

In contrast, the drawing that’s driving me bonkers measures 11 x 14 inches!  I’m still working on it.  Not ready to post yet.

[Top of the post:  Design for a Child's Mural, by Aletha Kuschan, collage of drawing fragments stapled to the studio wall]

Cabinet of Curiosities, More Curiosities

Once upon a time, long long ago, Smithsonian magazine did a story on the Chinese soldier statues that were being unearthed near the ancient capital of Xi’an.  Based on a photograph in the magazine I sculpted this soldier torso in clay.  It’s never been baked and sits atop this dresser where it’s sat undisturbed for about 25 years.

Over the years it has attracted a number of friends, some of whom are visible in the photograph — including a wooden duck, that stands guard over it.

[Top of the post:  Dresser top of Curio Objects, photography by Aletha Kuschan, sculpture of Chinese soldier by Aletha Kuschan]