Those politicians that take money from the gun lobby have blood on their hands. After the slaughter in Florida this week the can consider themselves accomplices. They are child killers. Despicable people who until they stop taking money from the gun lobby will have children’s
I am suffering from Trump overdose. Forget opioids. His St of the Union depressed me. I’m not sure art and politics mix. America has taken hundreds of years to put it’s self together and along comes an idiot and tears things apart. He does not have the ability to create. But he a penchant for destroying. I’m not sure the damage he is doing is repairable. There may be some viewers that read my blog that are republicans. If this offends you I’m sorry. Art is a search for the truth and Trump ignores the truth. What bothers me more is that the republican senators and representatives follow him blindly as if he has them hypnotized.
I have always enjoyed the shapes of pianos. Have had two. Someone gave me an upright many moons ago. It was painted red. Had it twenty three years. Moved and had it broken up. The one I have now is a baby grand. A tenant did a moonlight flit and left it in the apartment. Now it sits in my loft looking grand. By now you must think I play piano, but I don’t. I am tone deaf. But my grand son has taken to playing it and is quiet good. We had a piano tuner come to tune it but he said it was hopeless as something was twisted inside. So it sits looking fine and ends up in a painting now and then or at least in this painting , the key board.
Ah the bliss of the Caribbean.
The colour of the water the beauty
of the sky and the pink colour of
of the gentle coral sand that embraces
our knurly feet The wind that whispers
in ones ears and lures one to the
azure waters that harbor gentle
waves. To have the pleasure of a
full moon night and the plankton
sparkling around your toes.
But alas here I sit in the frozen
north with nose aglow and signs of
snow and winds that freeze one’s
ears and toes. With darkness that
never seems to leave.
Oh I enjoyed my days in the warm
winter sun in 73 74 75 and squirled
away fond memories of those old
St Barth’s days to warm me in such
times as now. Bleak winter.
For information on my work call 610 330 9925.
I always remember back in 1960 going to a gallery in NY City and seeing a giant Franz Kline. It’s title was ” New Year”. Apparently. he did not go out to party on New Years eve but painted instead. He was a great painter. Met him a couple of times . Actually I worked for him when he bought a house in Provincetown. He had two refrigerators. One for food the other for Black Label beer.. He would take off for New York and he would say, ” Help yourselves to the beer ” . I had a gallery at that time and he came by with a jug of cheap Tavola wine. We stood around chatting and taking slugs of wine right from the bottle. It was a funny scene. Everyone’s lips were purple.
Happy New year one and all. My site went flat this week. Thought it was the holidays, but no, my annual payment was due. So here I go again into the New Year. Here is an Oldenburg that I have owned since 1960. I took over the Sun gallery and he was one of the artists I showed. It was his first show. He had gone to the dump and constructed about a dozen small works. On the day of the opening he hung and rehung his work. We opened at 7. We liked to surprise viewers as to what we were showing so the windows were covered. People were beginning to assemble on the street. It was about five minutes to seven and Claus had all the work down on the floor. I told him he had five minutes.He got it all hung again in time and we opened. Many years later I realized he was a performance artist and would have enjoyed hanging the show with the viewers in the gallery. Each work was $200.00. We did not sell a single work.
Later when I closed the gallery this work slid out from behind the desk. Many years later I bumped into him in coming out of a cleaners on Downing St in the Village. We had a long chat about old times and I told him about this work. He said ” send me a picrure of it and I’ll give you a letter of ownership. He sent a beautiful signed letter and even gave it a name. Bag Flag. It is 6 x 8 IN
Merry Christmas one and all.
Enjoy the winter winds enjoy
the snow ski the mountains
high and low. Make a snowman
with a carrot nose pile up
snowballs above his nose
then have a battle until
nose is blue and fingers froze
then run inside for rum.
There seems to be a constant struggle between good and evil. One always hopes good will win out. Right now in this country, USA , there is a tremendous struggle going on between the two. The tax bill is close to passing. The poor will suffer and the rich will get richer. Why you may ask. Well wealth is power and the rich have undermined the system with money buying of senators and congress people. Every other industrial country in the world takes care of it’s poor. The US has taken away a safety net for the poor. Children will suffer from health problems and their education will be endangered. The problem is greed. The Us prides it’s self on being a Christian country. How come the Christian right wing can be so cruel. They seem to have lost their way when it comes to empathy for the have not’s. I am not a religious person. I went to Sunday school as a kid. The one parable I remember clearly and practice is the story of ” The good Samaritan.” It is time for todays Christians to read a few of those parables and put them into play.
My brain is worn and torn from all the news. I get relief by going into the studio, the problems in painting are less wearing than Trump mania. I rummaged through some old work and rested my worn out brain on ” Diane the huntress” she had her problems but not political.
I was recently given a catalogue of a show of paintings by Marcia Marcus. Her daughter Kate Prendergast helped put the catalogue and show together at the Firestone gallery. She is a fine artist and has been under appreciated for years. She come from the same period as Alex Katz and the same teacher Edward Dickenson. Both her work and the work of Katz is flat. But what we have to remember is that all painting is two dimensional so I feel flat is not the correct description. All painting is two dimensional and over the centuries artists have used all kids of approaches like perspective to achieve space. But space in painting does not exist. You want space look at sculpture. So for Marcus’s work to be called flat is wrong.
Hans Hoffman used the term ” Push and pull” Now that does not work to make a work three dimensional it, is optical in effect that brings the work to life, but not optical as in op-art that makes ones eyes jump all over the place. Push and pull makes not just the eye work but also the senses. Marcus’s comes to life through bringing a moment to life by catching a moment in time a moment we can all share.
I was working on a hotel roof over looking the dunes with a bunch of guys in Truro Cape Cod one summer day in 1958. One of hose guys was my brother Terry. It was a bright sunny day and across the dunes came a woman striding like a goddess with two Russian wolf hounds There was some hooting and whistling. Terry looked and said that’s gonna be my wife. He jumped from the roof and took after her. They met and they did get married and had two beautiful daughters Kate and Jane. My work here reminds me of that occasion though I did not paint it with that in mind. Women at one time where seen as Goddesses. With the current situation with women that time may be coming around again.
figurative expressionist artist …………………………………………………………… This is a blog by the artist expressing thoughts on his own paintings as well as experiences with others relating to his daily life and life of painting since the 1950s. …………………………………………………………………. Paintings are posted with words from Bill that are as varied as extolling on the successes of his children, JZ and Liza, to the milestones of his grandchildren and on to his memories of fellow artists, collectors and shows. His art and words touch on things like politics, religion and the weather. ……………………………………………… For Bill, art and life are interwoven. ……………………………………. …………………………………