Posts Tagged ‘John A. Parks’

Faculty Updates

Thursday, May 26th, 2016

What have SVACE faculty members been up to? We have exciting updates from Jade Doskow, John A. Parks, Naomi Elena Ramirez, and Steve Brodner.

Montreal 1967 World's Fair, "Man and His World," Buckminster Fuller's Geodesic Dome With Solar Experimental House 2012. Image © Jade Doskow

Montreal 1967 World’s Fair, “Man and His World,” Buckminster Fuller’s Geodesic Dome With Solar Experimental House 2012. Image © Jade Doskow

Jade Doskow is featured at Slate and Smithsonian Magazine for her Lost Utopias project. Meanwhile, her successful Kickstarter campaign raised almost $15,000 to print a Lost Utopias monograph. Of Jade’s work, Smithsonian writes, “She has photographed the remnants of visions past, the architectural wonders and landscapes that celebrated human glory and potential.”

 

John A. Parks, "Union Square," 2014. Oil on Linen, 30 x 40

John A. Parks, “Union Square,” 2014. Oil on Linen, 30 x 40

John A. Parks was interviewed at Artists Network on the topic of painting New York City. Drawing from years of teaching wisdom, John observes that painting is “perceptual training, not the acquiring of a manual skill.” See our review of John’s recent solo show in Chelsea.

Naomi Elena Ramirez, "Detail of Choreography for Smartphone Gestures (score for solo performer)," 2016,

Naomi Elena Ramirez, “Detail of Choreography for Smartphone Gestures (score for solo performer),” 2016,

Naomi Elena Ramirez, a faculty member and alum of our Residency Programs, is a 2016-2017 A.I.R. Fellow.  The Fellowship is for underrepresented and emerging self-identified women artists and includes mentoring, professional development, and exhibition opportunities at A.I.R. Gallery. Naomi’s exhibition will open in July 2017. And more recently, her video, I Love You, was featured at Mountain Gallery in Bushwick.

 

Steve Brodner for the Boston Globe

Steve Brodner for the Boston Globe

Steve Brodner continues to chronicle the 2016 Presidential Election with his insightful illustrations. For the Boston Globe, he proposes a running mate and cabinets for Donald Trump. Are Brodner’s fictions any stranger than the truths?

See more updates on our FacebookTwitter, and Instagram pages!

 

Holiday Gift Guide

Monday, December 14th, 2015

For creatives, holiday shopping can be a breeze. No shopping! Artists and designers can make gifts, cards, prints, and more. Made well, these gifts can outlast many objects impulsively added to Amazon wish lists.

But for those who love creatives, holiday giving is tricky for several reasons.

Screen Shot 2015-12-14 at 12.15.22 PM

First, artists and designers work with a vast range of materials, devices, and programs.  Where does one begin? Sable brushes and ceramics glazes will always be great gifts for artists, but now we also might consider giving our artists fleets of acrylic paint additives, arsenals of markers, drafting pens or pen nibs, typeface licenses or Photoshop, Premiere or Unreal Engine, Arduino kits or Raspberry Pi, Wacom tablets or Apple Pencils.  And what about the books?

Second, and related to the first, we have to understand the creative pursuits of our artistic loved ones. A conceptually-driven artist might frown at a box of pastels. A rapid prototyping enthusiast might balk at a home silkscreen kit. Still, resourceful artists can work with anything, even disposable stuff.

With all of this in mind, we asked our faculty members about their own holiday gift experiences. “What gift(s) have you received that profoundly impacted your experience as an artist?” Read their responses below.

Elizabeth Sayles
Twitter: @LizSayles
When I was about 19, Milton Glaser came to speak at my college. I was a sophomore at what is now called the University of the Arts, but back then it was more specifically known as the Philadelphia College of Art.  No one in my class (including me) knew who Milton Glaser was, but apparently he was a “graphic designer.”  No one really knew what that was either.

He blew us all away. He spoke about his failures.  He showed us projects that looked pretty great to us, that the art directors hated and he had to do over. He did graphic work, but also really interesting illustrations. He didn’t fit into any neat category, and he opened my eyes to the possibilities.  He showed us that even professionals who had enough credentials to come speak at a college didn’t always get their artwork approved.  But mainly he showed us that you didn’t have to fit in a box.  You could do design AND illustration AND store design, etc…  He has become the Picasso of our time.

In the school bookstore was a large tome with a very understated, yet flamboyant portrait of Bob Dylan on the cover entitled Milton Glaser: Graphic Design. It is all I wanted that year.  And I got it!  Still have it.  Dog-eared and falling apart. Love it.

sayles

Adam Meyers:
“I don’t know about profound. But I used to work in a dark and dirty rock club. Yeah! All the employees were creatives, artists, actors, etc. Each holiday, we would have a party and the bosses would give us a gift based on our medium. I’m a renaissance man. But I would get a canvas each year. We would then have a spring show with our holiday gifts.

Being an artist can be quite lonely. But I guess the profound thing was being a part of a family of artists.”

Keren Moscovitch:
Twitter: @kerenmoscovitch
“I love getting vintage books that somehow relate to whatever ideas I’m knocking around in the studio. My collaborator Marianna Olinger recently gave me a first US edition of Albert Camus’ Resistance, Rebellion and Death since I’ve been looking at the ways that creative practices disrupt dominant modes of thinking, acting and loving. I’m inspired by not just the words on the cover, but also the physical object itself, with its rich personal and collective history and all the impact it has had on movements of social and political resistance.”

“On the ridge where the great artist moves forward, every step is an adventure, an extreme risk. In that risk, however, and only there, lies the freedom of art.” – Camus

Camus Book Keren

Mark Burk:
Twitter: @brandnv
“WRITING BOOK: A NET FOR IDEAS. There’s nothing more delicious than a new notebook, and no thinker (writer, artist, art director) should ever be without one.

My very first writing teacher – an enigmatic David Foster Wallace kind of guy – gave me a great piece of advice: “Get a notebook and keep it with you always. The best ideas always come when you’re not at your desk.”

So that’s the advice I’m passing on to all creative thinkers because you never know when an idea will fall out of your brain that you want to capture.

Using Notes on a phone is fine in a pinch, but what you miss is the opportunity to use that moment to create, because the act of getting an idea almost always begets more ideas — scenes, bits of dialogue, a sketch or written fragment that captures the poetry of a visual moment…

Here are a few of the books I’ve filled over the years that have captured thousands and thousands of ideas for fiction, film, wedding speeches, condolence notes, and lots and lots of ad ideas. I’ve written them in museums, on trains, in line at the grocery, at laundromats. Everywhere. Even at a funeral (I was discreet.)
I just got the book in the middle as a gift. In a few months it will be filled with all kinds of stuff  – most of it garbage – but all of it necessary.”

msb notebooks


Martin Abrahams:
“In the 1950’s, for Christmas, I received the Jon Gnagy famous ‘How to Draw Kit!’ Jon Gnagy was on television teaching drawing, so now I thought if I had this I can draw like him!

This ‘How to Draw Kit’ was filled with great drawing tools: erasers, pencils, chalk sticks, things to blend with, drawing tools I never knew existed! A book with lessons on how to draw, still life, landscapes, and portraits.

Of course, it was too much of a regimented technique! So I explored making my own expressionistic drawings, instead! Hey, I was only 7! I thought Gnagy was cool! He wore a plaid shirt! And looked like an artist! Happy Holidays!”

SVACE blog gift

 

Ruth Marten:
“When I was about 9, I received from the family of my father’s Navy buddy an 8-inch tall stack of white drawing paper and a pack of Venus water-soluble colored pencils in a case that had a snap closure. This was a great gift.”

John A. Parks:
Twitter: @skrappy3
A Christmas Gift

My very first set of oil paints was a Christmas gift, secured from my parents after a short campaign.  The inspiration came about through the visit of a clergyman the previous summer, a single man in early middle age who had been invited to my father’s church to preach.  Being asked to give a sermon was one of the few perks available to a Church of England clergyman back in the gloomy early sixties in Northern England.  Congregations apparently tired of a steady diet of their own vicars and craved the novelty of a stranger’s voice.  Some of the men even made small reputations for themselves as preachers and were much in demand. Not that there was any money involved.  What they had to look forward to was a stay in another man’s vicarage, where they would face the inquisitive children, eat the simple food offered, and get a night in a damp guest bed before receiving the polite attention of a congregation ranged in a chilly church the following morning.  After a roast beef Sunday lunch and an exchange of ecclesiastical gossip the visitor could get the train back to his own parish refreshed and invigorated, his ego propped and bolstered by the attention.

This particular clergyman, whose name I have long forgotten, deviated from the usual Christian small talk on his arrival by beginning to tell us about a new interest. This was over tea.  He had, he said, recently been on a painting tour given by a well-known artist.  They had stayed at several large country houses and had begun to use oil paint. Our clergyman spoke in a rich Oxbridge accent and his voice grew animated as he talked about the pleasures of painting outdoors and the wonder of spending so many hours simply looking at things.  He mentioned a few painters he admired and asked if we knew the French Impressionists.  My parents looked somewhat put out, being generally interested only in saving the world for Christ.  Their involvement with the arts began and ended with hymn tunes, and if my father ever mentioned art at all it was only to say that it was “merely the icing on the cake.”   But our visitor was not to be deterred from his new passion.    He ran off upstairs to the guest room and returned a few minutes later with a large portfolio.    From this he produced a canvas which he put before us with a flourish.

There were three of us children and of course we pushed forward to see what was so interesting.  The scene was blurry, a sort of stone gate house behind a swath of lawn framed by some rather rubbery looking trees and backed by an overly blue sky.  No doubt it was a terribly amateur shot at painting but I was transfixed, overtaken by the way in which the world had been transformed.  The building in the painting seemed unstable, almost dissolving, while the lawn heaved and the sky hung like an old shawl in the heavens.  It was a world that was recognizable and yet bizarrely different.  Suddenly painting a picture seemed like the most exciting and magical thing in the world.

So on Christmas morning I was presented with a wooden box containing a small set of tubes, a tiny glass bottle of turpentine and an even smaller one of linseed oil.  There was a wooden palette, a couple of brushes and several canvas boards.  I was beside myself to begin work but an enormous obstacle stood in my way: I would first have to attend church.

Christmas morning in my father’s church was a full dress affair, with the entire service of Morning Prayer from the 1662 prayer book and a sermon delivered by my father on the meaning of Christ’s birth, the promise of regeneration, and the importance of charity.

Nothing could match the overwhelming dreariness of this prospect.

I announced, therefore, that I didn’t feel well, that I was desperately, perhaps mortally sick.  I insisted that I couldn’t possibly go to church.  My mother was skeptical, but I was not to be moved and at last I achieved the almost impossible, I was excused a church service.   Suddenly the house was empty, my siblings gone, and the only sounds the dull sizzle of the turkey in the oven and the rustle and tinkle of Christmas decorations shifted by the frigid drafts of the old vicarage.

Within minutes I was squeezing great dollops of paint onto the palette, breathing in the heady smell of linseed and turpentine and deciding what to paint.  I thought I would begin with a picture of a candle.  I’m not sure why, although perhaps I had seen such a picture somewhere.  The paint seemed impossibly sticky and when I loaded my brush it splurged around unpredictably, climbed up the silver ferrule onto my fingers and generally fetched up on the wrong parts of the canvas.   Still, I managed to establish a white candle with a bright yellow flame and then a wall behind in a dark green.  It was immensely difficult pushing the paint around without getting the colors to all mix together.  The yellow seemed to find its way into everything.  Somehow I managed to get a dark red patch on my mother’s dining room table and a swatch of green on my shoe.  But by the time my family returned, my mother anxious to check on the turkey, I was able to present them with a recognizable picture of a burning candle sitting on a table top in an old-fashioned holder.

They were immediately critical.  “Well it’s all rather yellow,” frowned my mother.

My sister sniffed.  “It’s not very good,” she said.  “You’re not much of an artist. And anyway you should have been in church.”

My father said “My word,” and wandered off to his study, but then his eyesight was so poor, his eyes swimming behind his enormous spectacles, that I knew he could scarcely see the picture anyway.

And so I received a second and quite invaluable gift from my family that Christmas morning, the knowledge of what an artist will always face more often than not; rejection, disinterest and dismissal.  It didn’t bother me in the slightest; I was already hooked for life.

Portrait Time

Thursday, December 10th, 2015

John A. Parks is today’s guest blog writer. John is a longtime faculty member, teaching the Fine Arts and Illustration painting courses, Portrait Painting and Making it Real. John’s book, Universal Principles of Art (Rockport Publishers) is available through major retailers and has been published in French by Pyramyd Editions. His recent exhibitions at 532 Gallery Thomas Jaeckel, such as In New York and Paint and Memory, have been reviewed in numerous outlets, including the New York Times and this blog. Read more about John and see his paintings at his website.

We asked John to share his response to a painted portrait of Angela Merkel currently on the cover of Time Magazine’s Person of the Year issue (“Chancellor of the Free World”). Read his response:

Angela Merkel on TIME

Angela Merkel on TIME

Time Magazine’s cover portrait of Angela Merkel was commissioned from the Belfast-based artist Colin Davidson who is known for his large-scale portraits of celebrities.  He said of this one: “Although likeness is vital in my practice, it is my hope that a sense of the German Chancellor’s dignity, compassion and humanity is woven into the paint.”

Only it isn’t.

Instead we have a cheaply dramatic painting of the chancellor suffering what appears to be a terminal skin condition.

Usually I’m a huge fan of painterly portraits in which the viewer gets to see how the paint itself stands in for flesh.  Sargent, Sorolla and Zorn were masterly at this approach, which goes back to the great painters, Titian, Rembrandt and Velasquez.

Unfortunately in the Time cover painting, the ‘noise’ of the brush-strokes has taken over.  Instead of reinforcing our comprehension of the volumes of the head and its fleshy substance, it suggests a surface that is disintegrating.  This is particularly noticeable on the sides of the face and the neck where the flesh looks as though it is simply falling away from the form.  Meanwhile, the center of the face and the hair appear to closely follow photographic reference, focusing on the eyes which are rendered with a very pedestrian point-for-point realism.  This device of carefully rendered eyes and mouth with loose painting elsewhere has long been part of the tradecraft of romance cover artists and other genre illustrators. As illustration, however, this piece is simply rather unfortunate.  It portrays the German chancellor in a way that is frankly ugly. This is all the more unpleasant given the widespread negative bias that the public tends to bring to images of women who are not somehow deemed ‘attractive’.  It’s hard to fathom why the editors of Time wanted to go with such an image. Perhaps they don’t really like Chancellor Merkel after all.

-John A. Parks, December 2015

Follow John A. Parks on Twitter: @skrappy3

 

Faculty Updates

Wednesday, December 9th, 2015

What have SVACE faculty members been up to? We have exciting updates from Felipe GalindoOfri Cnaani, John A. Parks, and Matt Rota!

Felipe Galindo at Mark Miller Gallery

Felipe Galindo at Mark Miller Gallery

Mark Miller Gallery and Felipe Galindo (aka Feggo) open New York Stories, a solo exhibition of artwork created on disposable objects, like packaging and take-out containers, and three decades’  worth of sketches of life in New York City.  New York Stories is Galindo’s second solo show with Mark Miller Gallery.

Ofri Cnaani, File Under: ? at Equity Gallery

Ofri Cnaani, File Under: ? at Equity Gallery

Ofri Cnaani opens File Under: ?a solo show at Equity Gallery in New York. For the duration of the show, Ofri invites artists to submit personal or professional questions via email and social media. In a “help desk marathon” performance on January 16, 2016, Ofri and her team will answer many of these questions, archive them, and apply them to Equity’s future programming. Anyone can submit questions, so now is your chance to get answers!

John A. Parks' new book

John A. Parks’ new book

Pyramyd Editions has published a French translation of Universal Principles of Art by John A. Parks.  It’s a great book for artists who want to expand their own artwork with focused concepts, techniques, and history.

"The Art of Ballpoint" by Matt Rota

“The Art of Ballpoint” by Matt Rota

Illustration Age reviewed The Art of Ballpoint by Matt Rota. Reviewer Marc Scheff writes: “You can read it either as a tool and resource for technique, a history book, or a deep cross-section of stylistic choices for the use of this oft-overlooked medium.”

See more updates on our Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram pages!

 

Only in New York

Monday, April 20th, 2015

One of the many great things about New York Paintings, a solo show by John A. Parks at 532 Gallery Thomas Jaeckel, is how the show combines the New York one might want with the New York one actually has.  That is, the New York that attracts tourists and ensnares ambitious young people often eludes the New Yorkers who actually live there.

Metropolitan-Museum-2014.-Oil-on-Linen-30-x40

John A. Parks, “Metropolitan Museum,” 2014

For example, in Metropolitan Museum, groups of museum visitors seem to enjoy an enriching, leisurely experience as they stroll through the Petrie Sculpture Court and snap photos.  As wonderful as this experience may be, it can be difficult for a New Yorker to achieve it.  Just look at the guard, who hides behind a sculpture.  Instead, a New Yorker’s experience, at least in parts of Manhattan, is closer to the frustratingly mundane affairs we see in Trader Joe’s.  (I often imagine calling my memoir A Life In Laundry.)  In Trader Joe’s, shoppers appear hurried, burdened, and moments away from chaos at the Chelsea branch of that grocery chain.  Indeed, that store can feel like rioting at Altamont – but still more peaceable than its Union Square competitor.

Trader-Joes-2014-Oil-on-Linen-30x-42

John A. Parks, “Trader Joe’s,” 2014

And between the ideal New York and the actual New York, this show manages a uniquely blended combination. Madison Square Park (Shake Shack Line) is a good example.  A mostly random lunchtime crowd lines up for burgers, acceding to a substantial inconvenience because doing so is a bold expression of preference.  “Ideal” would mean facing no line, but the “Actual” line is part of the experience.  It’s kind of like battling crowds at the Farmers Market (“You wouldn’t believe what i had to do to get this watercress.”), or lining up at 6am for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park.  Of this mixed experience, what one wants versus what one has, John A. Parks seems to relish both sides of the equation – a bit like his willingly delayed subjects.

svablogparks

Maybe it’s that ambivalence that opens up his panoramic richness.  Without judging the scenes he depicts, Parks avoids leaning into a “mood” and instead keeps his palette at a keenly-aware full spectrum.  Bright daylight suffuses his crowded scenes and unifies individuals on autonomous and exclusive trajectories.  Pictorially, there isn’t much more to really bring them together.  Compositions are loosened enough to almost defy gravity, scale seems unpredictable, and perspective does little more than establish a surveying eye level.  Which is great.  By untethering himself from these restraints, Parks is free to play with brilliant color and eccentrically rendered forms, like the leaning and wobbly Madison Square Park office buildings bowing around Shake Shack.

         Stock-Exchange.-2015-Oil-on-Linen-30-x-42

The notable exception to these lively observations of Manhattan is Stock Exchange, which makes a literal dramatization of the otherwise invisibly indiscriminate destruction of day trading.  Parks imagines day trading as a doughier Rape of the Sabine Women comprising mostly men.  The brawl is funny, but what’s more interesting is the phalanx of terminal towers that preside over the violence.  They seem indifferent, even as one seems to fall over, as if they are part of a network that plays a longer game than today’s thrilling 6.5 hours of trading.