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Eugene Carriere was a French Symbolist painter who was originally trained in lithography. He studied under Alexandre Cabanel until he was taken prisoner during the Franco-Prussian war. His work largely went unnoticed until the Salon of 1884 where his work was noticed by Roger Marx, putting him further into the public eye.
I'm drawn to Carriere's work for a number of reasons. His pieces are often very dream-like, with withering textures and figures depicted in limited palettes of muted browns and tired beiges. At a glance, his work doesn't stand out against other paintings from this period, but upon further examination there's an otherworldly decay present in Carriere's work that is impossible to find elsewhere. I'm very interested by things that aren't what they seem, and his work is a great example of that.
Newborn in a Bonnet (1890) / Elise Laughing (1895)
My ultimate goal as an artist is to continue to create regardless of my circumstances. While my main source of creativity comes from more traditional sources like painting, drawing and photography, I also want to continue to use my creativity in places where it can be utilized by others. An example of this is in landscape design, something that I accidentally found myself passionate about.
To me, there's no greater honor than to be able to create collaboratively with nature. Building ecosystems that are well-designed and pleasing to the eye while serving humans, animals and insects alike is an extremely rewarding process that creates something beautiful while mending our broken relationship with the land. I feel like this practice can and should exist in tandem with my other forms of art, and there is great reward in doing so.
'What are you trying to communicate/do with your work? How does the form, material, style, structure, process- support your conceptual goals? In other words: how does form relate to content in your work?'
This is a difficult question for me to answer. I don't feel like I could ever try to communicate only one specific concept through my work, and I instead try to focus on many different things that can be vastly different depending on what I'm interested in at the time. At the same time, being into multiple different mediums lends itself to always trying to convey different concepts. I like not being tethered down by just one thing, be it in medium or what I'm trying to show through that medium. My work is constantly changing depending on what I'm interested in the time (paint, graphite, digital, etc), and that's reflected by the way my concepts and my ideas are always changing and shifting from one thing to the next.
At the end of the day, I think the form of my work has nothing to do with the work itself, it's just the medium that I chose to present it in. I choose these specific mediums not because I feel like they'll represent something within the work or that they represent my concepts, but because I enjoy the process of that medium. There is a huge connection between what we see and what we feel, and I believe in choosing the path of least resistance when it comes to reaching that feeling. Some feelings and concepts can only be broadcast through my digital art, where as others can only be captured through paint. One concept can be interpreted differently when viewed through different mediums; A quilt will yield different results than a painting, and so on.
Foliose - Mark Harmon ‐ Oil ‐ Panel ‐ 48cm 19" x 63cm 25"
One of the pieces that stuck out to me on our field trip to the River Arts District was this piece, titled 'Foliose' by Mark Harmon. I'm not really into realistic works, but I found the execution of texture and detail really drew me in. The cool blue-green of the lichen creates an alien world, and it quickly becomes less of a painting of an individual subject, but something more abstract. There's such a huge range of colors used here, and there's such a strong contrast between the cool highlights and the warm shadows.
I'm always inspired by nature photography that bothers to get in close and capture specific detail. There is a lot of beauty to capture in a photo of a mountain, but it takes time and effort to get up close and capture the life that happens on that mountain. Whenever I see photos or paintings of landscapes, I always find myself wondering about the little worlds within. This painting in specific, along with the others that Mark had hanging in his studio captured that feeling of wanting to get up close and personal. The amount of detail in his work makes me feel like I'm a little bug on an adventure.
It's hard to put my finger on just one artistic movement to align myself with when I think about my work. In a sense, I think my art can best be described as a marriage between the concepts surrounding the Surrealist and Art Brut movements. Both of these movements are deeply conceptual and spiritual, with a heavy emphasis on the unconscious and abstract. The Tate Gallery describes surrealist artists as 'magic and strange beauty in the unexpected and the uncanny, the disregarded and the unconventional.' This is something that I try to accomplish with my own work, seeking to tap into the things that lie in our subconsciousness that can only be unlocked through the realm of visual art. This is what makes art so important to me, because so much of what makes us human and part of the tapestry of the natural world are these disregarded and unconventional things. Surrealism is deeply human in the same way that Art Brut or Outsider Art is human.
I've always disliked the term 'outsider art', but I've found that lately I've been drawn to the concept of what it means to be someone outside of the realm of high art or traditionally trained artists. I was homeschooled growing up, so I had little to no access to artistic training beyond whatever books I could find at the library and whatever materials I had at home. With outsider art, there's a common thread of a spiritual awakening or a divine calling to art that I think extends itself to Surrealism. While I wouldn't go as far as to say my art is born out of any sort of divinity, it comes from the same somewhere that outsider art comes from; out of an innate desire to imagine and create that lies within all of us. Both of these movements are about the spiritual side of humanity, and my art is deeply entwined with my own humanity and spirituality.
There is also the aspect of material in outsider art that I find not only interesting, but encouraging. When I first got into creating digital art at 10 years old, an artist I looked up to explained to me that it wasn't about the tools that I had, but how I used them. While I use a lot of things that can be considered the artistic 'standard' (oil paints, industry software, etc.) I find myself constantly returning to the things that we're always told to avoid if we want to make 'good' art. Microsoft Paint is an example of this, a program which is widely considered as a joke or rough is something that I have been able to use to create intricate and meaningful art. When you create art that comes from instinct, the subconscious, and the spiritual, it doesn't matter what you have access to. Anything can and will act as a medium when asked to.
As my work is so deeply connected to me both spiritually and internally, it acts as the only doorway that I have to my self and the way that I interpret the world both inside and beyond the veil. I want for others to be able to use it as a bridge to see and experience these worlds for themselves.
Henry Darger (1892-1973)
Below are the notes for our first peer review:
It's hard for me to know where to start with Berlinde De Bruyckere's artwork, there are many pieces of hers that inspire me on such a deep level. She works with several different mediums, but her sculptural work inspires me to the point where I feel almost desperate to create something. She works with local farms and vet offices to source the pelts that are used in her works and puts a lot of complex thought and meditation onto the animals that she works with.
Actaeon (Beijing) IV, Berlinde De Bruyckere, 2012
Actaeon immediately demands your attention with its sheer size, spanning 10 feet long and 4 feet wide. This piece is a rare instance of De Bruyckere using epoxy instead of actual animal parts themselves. A pile of antlers and what looks like small cloth sacks form a sweeping arch on the workbench that they sit on, a gentle swell that gives it an almost aerodynamic appearance. There is something so organic about the colors used in this piece, the pinks and reds make it feel as though it exists as one living being, sick and injured and laid bare on the table for us to see.
The title comes from the Ancient Greek myth where the hunter Actaeon was transformed into a stag as punishment for violating the sacred pool of the goddess Artemis. His own hunting dogs would in turn hunt him down and ultimately tear him apart, killing their master without realising. This context adds a distinct raw feeling to the piece, it really feels as though some sort of horrible and painful transformation has taken place here. There are separate, distinct feelings of both death, birth, and rebirth that I can feel when I stare at this piece, and it's not clear where one ends and the other begins.
Lost, Berlinde De Bruyckere, 2006
De Bruyckere's horseskin sculptures are what initially led me to discover her a few years ago. The way she takes the horse, an animal which is seen in art normally as an image of freedom, grace, or triumph and places it in these very fragile and delicate scenes grabs me. There is so much weight to this piece, the way the limbs are stiff and splayed in the awkwardness of rigor mortis, but the neck and head hangs heavy and wilted. There's so much contrast between the organic nature of the rope and the hide against the cold steel platform and the pole that it hangs from, yet there is a through line drawn from the color of the horse and the rust on the platform. They are two very distinct things from one another, but they're connected in a way that makes them one.
I'm inspired a lot by art that features animals as I believe that there are some concepts and feelings that can only be captured through images of animals. It creates a feeling of empathy and unity between us and the worlds of other creatures, creating a connection to the ecosystem that we often forget that we're apart of. I'm really drawn artistically to horses since they're such unnatural looking creatures and despite being known for their power and strength, they're very fragile animals. De Bruyckere choosing to use horses in her work gives it a feeling that I don't believe that she would've been able to capture if she had chosen to depict human figures instead. I don't think that there would be the same kind of weight, or feeling of loss and desperation.
Short-term goals:
- Studio time every Friday
- Create social media page for art
- Figure out specifics for project (areas to set up cameras for wildlife photos, etc.)
Long-term goals:
- Find happy medium between work & art
- Make income from art
- Have in-home space to create art
Instagram | YouTube
questions + answers here
Vill is someone I've looked up to artistically for a long time now, not just because their art is beautiful, but because of the deep spiritual connection that they
share with their work. For Vill, creating art is not about making a living and instead is something that is intrinsic to their inner being and their spiritual beliefs,
resulting in something really powerful. I admire their skill in both 2D illustration and 3DCG, as well as their full and complete dedication to the world that they've
let us take a look inside of.
Click here to view my interview with Vill.
'Write about the book you finished reading this semester. How has this book inspired the form, content, or methodology of your work? Be specific.'
Storytelling has always played a huge role in creating art for me. This is true mostly for the narrative pieces and projects that I've worked on over the years,
but it's also proved to be a huge source of inspiration regardless of if whatever I'm working on has a narrative theme or not. I first heard about this book through herbalist Rebecca Beyer when she mentioned it as one of her go-to books in her library. In the past, I've always turned to my Foxfire books as they're filled with tons of personal accounts on just about anything from an age long gone. 'Witches, Ghosts and Signs' is very similar to the Foxfire series as Gainer records these traditional folk tales straight from the source, keeping these stories alive by passing them on.
In the beginning of the book, he explains that the popularization of radio made the act of storytelling almost obsolete. Most of these stories were passed down orally through generations, and Gainer was eager to keep them alive by going out and collecting them in a book. I'm drawn to putting references to folk tales or mythology in my work as it can add another layer to the piece and give it meaning while also keeping pieces of these stories alive as when we give thought to something, it continues to live on. When we channel things that we want to remember in the form of visual art, they can live on for sometimes millenia.
Another aspect of 'Witches, Ghosts and Signs' that led me to choose it for this class was the enormous wealth of knowledge that is referenced in the stories and in the side chapters of the book. Gainer takes great care to provide a glossary of terms and an explanation of old-time Southern Appalachian culture in the beginning of the book in order to provide context to pieces of some stories. There is also a vast amount of herbal cures, as well as reference to folk magic practices and witchcraft. My creative process starts with interest and inspiration that has to be explored further before an idea can fully come to light. For example, I might not have had the idea to create a piece about the alchemical relationship between toads and horses had I not researched deeper into the Toadmen of 19th century English magic.
For myself, the most meaningful way for me to create is to let the ideas come to me like something surfacing to the top of a pond. This means that creating is a give and take process, I have to take the time to give my attention to the world around me, to give my time to nature and other humans or cultures to learn from the world around me. As a result, I'm given a new concept or idea to work with and to create from. While I make a wide variety of work covering different themes, I've always been drawn to things like horror and the unknown, ceremonial magic, the occult, and the generally bothersome, so choosing this book satisfied multiple areas of interest for my creative research.
'What questions are you asking your viewer/audience with your senior show pieces? What do you want people to take away from this work?'
The main question that I want whoever views my senior show work to ask is simply 'What is it that I'm missing?'. It's so easy for us to separate ourselves from nature in the modern age, and we often forget that we're part of the fabric of the environment around us. The business of modern day life demands our entire attention and our time has been made into a commodity, forcing us to go about our lives all while missing out on the intricate worlds around us. There are so many things that we dismiss as being insignificant because they seem so much smaller than our own selves, or the trivial things in our lives.
Now more than ever it's crucial that people stop to take a closer look at the world around them. One has to involve themselves in nature and remember that they're part of it, not separate if we're to make meaningful progress towards fixing the climate crisis that we're in. Finding the beauty in things that are normally overlooked or hidden away is just one step toward getting people to care a little more.
I want people to take away the fact that there's a beautiful world out there that's full of mystery and knowledge, and that the fabric of this world is made up of thousands of tiny threads. You have to pursue it and recognize it to keep the entire thing from unraveling.
Tobin on my work:
- Ephemeral quality with b/w photos, decay/splitting adding to it.
- Overexposure lending itself to the idea of the 'unseen' concept.
Me on Tobin's work:
- Very intentional with motion/shape of figures.
- So much thought put into everything, from the intricate small carvings to the big gestural series.
Elina Merenmies is an artist from Helsinki, Finland. Most of her work is painting and drawing and focuses heavily on figures or natural imagery. i randomly stumbled on Elina's art about 5 or 6 years ago, and I was instantly pulled in by the terrifying, dark, captivating figures that she depicts in her work. There's a whimsical and almost child-like sense of playfulness to her pieces that's juxtaposed to a feeling of creeping darkness with the figures and textures that she focuses on.
'Shinning' - Elina Merenmies, 2011
'Everything Shows' - Elina Merenmies, 2023
Elina has this powerful ability to capture radiance in a way that makes you feel sick. There's such a strong sense of nature and the human spirit (and how they both intertwine) in her work. It can often be frightening to look at, but there's this powerful feeling of comfort and solace that can also be found in these works as well. There's a storybook illustrative quality to her work that lends to the way her pieces often feel narrative as well as symbolic.
Her work also explores her orthodox faith and upbringing, and there's often religious references and imagery in her pieces (such as the reference to St. Peter's inverted crucifixion in the above piece 'Everything Shows'). Her work mirrors the way that religion provides both beauty, fear, and comfort all at the same time, translating this back-and-forth into a visual format for us. Nature itself also provides this juxtaposition of beauty and terror as well, and the concepts marry each other wonderfully through her pieces.
"How do the formal aspects of your work support your conceptual intent?
(What are you trying to communicate/do with your work? How does the form -material, style, structure, process- support your conceptual goals? // How does form relate to content in your work?)
My senior project focuses heavily around the theme of revelation, seeing what is normally left hidden, and things that can only be seen or appreciated under certain conditions. I've found that a lot of this has translated itself into the actual process of trying to condense this concept down into an image, especially with my darkroom pieces. One of the points that I make is sometimes, the things that scare us the most hold beauty that we don't get to see because we're too scared to look. I'm terrified of the dark, which makes developing film difficult when you have to be in total darkness.
I've found myself rushing to get the film off of the roll in the dark, struggling to get it into the cannister and dropping everything on the floor then having to start all over again. In my rush to get away from what I was scared of, I was ironically proving my own point. There came a time when I stepped out of the darkroom to take a deep breath, compose myself, then went back inside and remembered that it's only the dark.
I came back to this concept again when I was developing prints of the negatives that I had developed. Once the photopaper is in the developer just before you stop and fix it, you finally get to see your image. However, you can only see it under the very specific conditions that's been created in the darkroom. If you were to turn the light on at this stage to make yourself feel more comfortable and to escape the dark, you'd expose your image again and it would disappear into a black void. The light has to stay off until the end, and only then through your discomfort will you have earned the beauty that you now get to admire.
This reminds me of when I used to live in a rural area and I'd go walking late at night. There were no lights around, but your eyes would adjust to the dark and there was no sense of fear. The only time I would ever feel afraid was when I'd come up on the single streetlight at a small crossroads, as the light would suddenly plunge everything else around you into complete darkness. The light has to go out for you to actually be able to see what's in the dark, to admire all the detail and to capture it.
