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!

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!

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!

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!

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!

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.