A Few (More) Words About Slow Art
- a study piece
It has been a while since I wrote about Slow Art. You can read that posting here. This subject is never far from my mind and you can find some slow blogs and web sites in the list on the right column of this page. Recently, I have been thinking about the relationship of taking time to make art and taking time to view art. Does it make a difference in one’s life? One thing viewing art slowly does is give you time to fine the subtleties of the work, the depth of the layers and the richness created over time. These are things that a quick glance cannot accomplish.
What does it take to create art slowly? Slow is different if you are working with watercolors than it is if you are working with oils, it is different if you are working with clay than it is if you are working with bronze. The materials obviously make a difference, but I am talking about something more. Mark Rothko apparently was once asked how long it took him to create one of his color field paintings. His quick response was, “57 years!” which was his age at the time! He used work and life experiences to reach his goals of a single painting. I think this was the right response. I know I pull from a lot of experiences to create and to live. It takes a great deal of work to “unearth” these lessons and experiences, too. I find, reflecting is often the best way, although it takes a lot of tools to bring those reflections to the surface.
In my last post, Suki reminded me of the importance of contemplation and not to worry about if anyone else thought you were working or not, because you know the truth. I knew she was right and was grateful for her wise words. It takes a great deal to get to our personal truths, create a piece of art and then to expose those truths to a public who may or may not understand the meaning or take the time to slowly view what you have so laboriously created over the expanse of your life. It seems to me, though, that with the slowness of creation the artist probably also recognizes many people cannot or are unwilling to really see.
In the presentation about Mark Rothko done by Simon Schama, I learned Rothko was also asked how far away someone should stand from one of his color field paintings and in a single breath, Rothko said, “18 inches”! If you have ever experienced one of these paintings and stood in front of them at that distance, you will understand why he did not hesitate! Last weekend I had the opportunity to do just that and was completely overwhelmed by the experience. Truly, it makes all the difference and drives home the truth that it took him 57 years to paint it!
Creating Slow Art and Viewing Art Slowly seem to go hand in hand to me. As many of you know, it takes me a long time to bring a canvas into its fullness as it has an incredible number of layers. Some of the reason for this is because I think I gain so much in this act! I wonder if these paintings cause people to slow down and really see any better? Do you life your life slowly when you can?
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
Related posts:
- Does Creativity Dry Up? This is the final product of the WIP in...
- Creating Your Own Inspiration Cache One of the things I am trying to do with...
- Creativity Management This morning we have the beginnings of the first...
- The Reflection in the Mirror I have just started reading Jackson Pollock: Energy Made Visible...
- Words from the Tea Bag Tag I shut my eyes in order to see. Paul Gauguin...
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
There are 6 Comments to "A Few (More) Words About Slow Art"
Thanks for mentioning me here Kim. You are so sweet. Slow. I definitely think my art process is usually slow, as is about everything else about me. But when I go through an art museum exhibit, I often go fast. Isnt that funny. I like to whirl through rooms just catching essences. Then, when something special draws me, I will pause and come closer. I love to look at paintings close to and far away. They do seem so different and generally the artist has been close to while painting unless he has a long long handled brush. I must add it has been many years since I’ve been to a museum though. a few small museums yes, but none of the bigger ones that I used to love to go to when younger. Maybe if I went to a big one now I would be much slower. And I also think that anything that slows us down is good. The world is Sooooooo fast nowadays.
Do you ever pay exact change in the shopping line? Much faster to hand over the money in bills. Supposedly faster to swipe a debit card, but it seems to me these often fail to work correctly and take more time than less. Whenever I count out the exact change I feel the folks in line and the cashier are thinking hurry up lady. This is not quite about art, but just about speed. Thanks Kim. I’d love to see some of your paintings in person and slow down and ponder the layers close up.
Well, of course I will mention you, Suki! You gave me some very wise advice when I really needed to hear it! It is funny, I am very slow and contemplative and in the world where I grew up it caused a lot of issues. Every single day I learn more and more about the power in slowness and I am grateful I stood by what felt right for me.
Oh, you asked about giving correct change…I absolutely do! Sometimes I get that feeling of people being irritated with me, but it also depends on where I am and the time of day. Normally, I would never do the exact change thing during rush hour at the grocery store – I figure those people just want to get home and maybe move slowly there!
At least that is what I tell myself!
Thank you, my dear, wise friend!
Hi Kim,
Another wonderful post! I agree that you can get so much more from art if you take the time to really look at it. I say this having rushed around London like a demon looking at thousands of pieces of work during “Art Month”. When Frieze is in town the whole place goes crazy but you don’t get a chance to take individual pieces in properly. Such a shame! When I’m in crits I really enjoy the unravelling of a work. At first the group looks at a piece and doesn’t know what to say but then we analyse it layer by layer and get more and more out of it. And yes, until you see a Rothko in real life, you really haven’t seen it. I’ve heard people complain about it but they’ve probably only seen it in reproduction.
I’m doing a painting at the moment with many layers and am really enjoying building them up and seeing how they affect each other.
Even when I make quick paintings they are often slow in their totality because I’m particularly enjoying mixing my own oil paints from the raw pigments nowadays. It reall gets you in touch with how each one behaves and puts you more in touch with the paint. I like cooking from scratch and I’m finding the same with my painting now too. Slow is good!
Hello Fiona, I have been thinking of you running all over London lately trying to get in as much as you possibly can during art Month and I hear things are going quite well with the Frieze considering the economy! I can imagine it is brutal to even be able to really “see” individual pieces much less allow yourself the time to truly contemplate them. Well, if all is as well as I am hearing in due time you will probably have the opportunity to see some of those artists up close and personal over the next years. That is cool, too.
You are right, there is nothing like taking the time to allow all of that art to come out and play as you stand there and really see it! Of course, living with it is even better, right? No you absolutely must “experience” a Rothko! Then again, I think that just might be true of all excellent fine art. Don’t you? While you can see some amazing things through images and you can feel that part of the artist that truly unleashes themself on the work, it has to be more powerful in person. That is the challenge of this medium, I think.
There is nothing like taking the time to build up those layers, allowing them the time to reveal themselves and play on the canvas before you place the strokes where they need to go! It is an experience I crave with each painting.
Even your quick paintings take a lot longer than you think because you have to bring so much to the surface before you even begin! I understand Rothko would contemplate the blank canvas for weeks on end when he was doing the Seagram’s paintings, then he would paint them in a day…those HUGE canvases! What a great thing to be mixing your own oils now. It does teach you so much. The challenge comes in when you are using the dry pigments…so be very careful! I am eager to see what you are working on these days, Fiona!
Slow Is So Good!
Thank You So Much!
Hey Kim! I’ve been mulling this post over for days now, wondering how to reply. I absolutley agree with you that an artwork takes an artists whole life to create. We bring everything we know, everything we’ve ever done into each piece, whether it’s visible or not. Every experience I’ve had informs my art-making.
I also think that viewing art slowly is absolutely necessary. It’s the only way to really absorb the presence and feeling of the piece, and to see the subtle nuances that you would miss if you just breezed by. I think this is especially true in the case of the Abstract Expressionists. I had a similar experience this summer in front of a Barnett Newman piece as you did with the Rothko piece. It was the piece at the Tate Modern, I think it’s called Eve. Anyways, if you saw this on the computer screen or a book, you’d think it was nothing special. But standing in front of it was such an amazing experience! It was a big rectangle canvas covered in this intense vibrating red hue. It sucked me right into it, almost as if it was hypnotizing! I kept going back to stand in front of it… my boyfriend thought I was crazy, haha!!
As for creating slowly…. that’s something I just can’t relate to, haha! When people see my portraits, they always think I’m such a patient person. The truth is that I’m actually very impatient and I love things that are fast and immediate. Then again, as I say this, I’m realizing that while my process for my abstract work is made up of fast and furious steps, the entire process could be thought of as very methodical. I guess it depends on your interpretation of the word slow! I don’t consider myself to be a slow artist, though. One of the pieces I’m working on now is one with oil washes that take days to dry, which annoys me no end!
Now that I’m done writing my book here, haha, I need to go get ready for work. Thanks again for a great conversation!
Hello Miranda…even this commenting here is a slow process for both of us. What I have learned is that is often a very good thing!
I love the story you share about the Newman painting. I completely understand the experience you had with your boyfriend, too. My husband was with me and wondered how long I might be able to stand there and look at that piece! People were starting to watch me in a funny way, too. Tee hee, it is as if you and Newman (or in my case, Rothko) had some kind of conversation going on they were not privy to…and I think that is just what it was! As for crazy, I imagine that is part of what he loves about you!
Well, my process is long and fiddly, so I call it slow. It is also very meditative for me, so I call it slow. I think, however, slow also includes everything from beginning to the end. You are right, sometimes it is the medium of choice which slows down the process, but I have a feeling you gain different things from the variety of the mediums, and so you get from each what you need to gain at that moment. Sometimes, it takes those fast pieces to gain information for the slow ones or vice versa.
You come here to write a book any time at all! I love to hear your thougts and opinions and creating these conversations is what I hope to accomplish here, and that is why I leave posts up for days on end!
Thanks so much, Miranda!