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Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

Did you know that the upper tier art shows keep a "wait list"?  That list of a few artists who made it almost all the way through, to exhibitor status, but stopped just shy of a point or two.  Yours truly would be one of those folk, at Chicago's Old Town Art Fair's jury a couple of months ago.  Sometimes they need that substitute person, usually not.

But I got the call from Joan yesterday.  The wait list call.  And so our bags are packed.  More importantly, the paintings are packed. 

Hope to see you there.  Here are the details copied over from my schedule page:

Thanks for stopping by!  Hey:  now and this weekend!

Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where we are in the last stages of preparation for the Iowa Bicycle Festival.  Pray for a beautiful sunny May 25th in our corner of the world.

But the main push of this post is about art.  (isn't it always?)  Tied to the Iowa Bicycle Festival is an exhibit we fondly call Celebrate The Bicycle.  Bicycle art.  Yup, a juried art show of and about the bicycle.  And I am ever so pleased to tell you we have some amazing art work coming in this year.  Way cool.

But here's the interesting thing, I am seeing an art exhibit come together from the backside this time, the working/organizing side of the exhibit.  NOT the jury/send in your art side.  Whew!  What a different perspective.

I'm learning that it's quite possibly true that artists don't read anything.  Or at least not to the end of the page.  And artists seem to have an abundance of email addresses, and like to pick and choose which one to respond to.  And communication styles are all over the place.  Shew!  And the really annoying part is, I've made all these mistakes from the artist side of the equation myself.  Henceforth, let's agree on a few rules of conduct for entering/participating in an art exhibit.  No, this won't be an all inclusive list, just the pertinent tidbits I've run into the last 48-72 hours!

1.  Read the rules of entry page, clear to the bottom.  Boring yes, but they do hold helpful tidbits, like where to send the painting to, when you do get accepted.  Just a thought, possibly art calls should be pictorial, artists seem to do better with images, than text  :)

2.  Keep a calendar!  Entry deadline, jury date & notification, art arrival dates, opening reception, and exhibit dates.  That's a lot of dates.  Do you really think you can commit them to memory?  Seriously?  What about if you've entered two events?  That'd be double the dates.  Nah, you'd better use a calendar.  And regarding the jury date & notification date, yes, do keep tabs on that one.  If you don't hear results in an appropriate amount of time, it's perfectly okay to email or call.  Hey, they got your jury fee check, didn't they?

3.  Use one (1) (ONE!!!) email address.  How do you expect to read about your acceptance into the show, when the notification email was sent to the inbox that you only open twice a year??  (your truly performed this crime last year, caught it just in time)

4.  Communication is your friend.  Use it.  When you receive that blessing of an acceptance letter, respond with a thank you AND when/how your art will get there.  Crisis is so much easier to fix early in the game, instead of last minute.

There you have it.  Rules to make sending a painting off to the public, just a little easier.  I thought you'd like to know.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

It's been a fine Monday, and a good way to start out the week that will include the "first art fair of the season".  (Deb B, I am still waiting for that magic call from your fine institution saying you need your favorite wait-list artist on Saturday)  And definitely, we will be hanging some paintings in Des Moines, Iowa this weekend, Sunday, at Valley Junction Art Market.

Thinking about the first art fair of the summer, I would guess that most of you don't realize that it's possible to put an entire exhibit of paintings in a Chevy Venture.  Well, it is.  May I say that the title up at the top of this, is key?  Everything in it's place.  Absolutely.

Just a couple of times, I've contemplated a larger "art van".  One that would allow me to miss-pack an item or two.  And then I take a quick look at artists that DO deal with a larger van.  Heck, some do it with trucks.  And as I gaze at them in wonderment, I see that their vehicle is just as stuffed as mine.  Which leads one easily to the conclusion, that if you have more room, you put something in it.  So little Chevy Venture, I owe it to you that I pick and choose.  Only take the essentials.  No extra baggage.  No extra display frou-frou.  Stream-lined, that's the ticket.

(Can you smell the leap over to painting land?!)  Yup.  You know it.  Just as less is more in the art of stuffing a Chevy Venture art van, it happens on the canvas too.  We have to pick and choose.  Carefully.  No extra baggage.  Leave out the unnecessary.  Less is more. And all that.  But you knew that, didn't you?!  Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

and here's the current easel occupant, wondering if I will have the aha moment (hour)(day!) that get's it finished in time...

 Sack Lunch, an acrylic painting with a ways to go before the signature :)

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

I am not a fan of television, but once in a while I do sit down in front of one.  Ironically, two commercials are what caught my eye.

The first was for a robotic vacuum cleaner.  A woman in a hallway - hallway, all white.  The vacuum was grey-ish, of course.  The woman was dressed in a dark grey suit.  Everything, black white and shades of grey, hard lines, hard edges, emotionless face.

The next commercial was of a woman who walks into a store full of color.  Everywhere.  The woman was dressed in color.  She was smiling.  And as she sat down in a chair in the scene, she laughed.

And we need to study things to see if color makes us feel good?  Really?  I think that's what we call a foregone conclusion.

I'm sticking with color. :)

Later, Cooper

This specific bit of feel good color?  People Watching, an acrylic painting on an 18 x 30 inch canvas.

And a link to give you that ever so loveable zoom feature: http://cooper.fineartstudioonline.com/works/1162352/people-watching

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

I have a fact for you.  We are a people watching society.  EVERYBODY does it.  Why do you think the fashion industry does what it does, dollars speaking.  Why do you think people have multiple televisions in their house?  Why do you think cars can be sold on the power of the image alone?   Everybody wants to look good, because they're pretty sure everyone else is watching.  Yeah, so that last sentence is likely erroneous, but the rest are solid.

So that was the FACT paragraph, next up, the CONFESSION paragraph.

I came to grips with it a long time ago.  I watch people more than the average people.  I am a no-holds-barred people watcher.

Because, not only do I people watch for all the normal reasons that everybody else uses, but I people watch, because I don't want to miss the next great opportunity for a painting.  That's it, the bottom line.

And if you are wondering, yes, sometimes it can cause me distress.  Sunday afternoon, husband and I delivered paintings to the Wine Bar Art Gallery in Arnolds Park, one of my favorite places in one of my favorite places.  Arnolds Park/Okoboji is almost due north of Jefferson, and guess what?  There were still a few patches of snow in the road ditches.  Whew!  But no impact on our day, because as we sat down to a sunny table at The Wharf cafe, the signboard out at the end of Mau Marine's pier read 75 degrees.  Perfect.  

And of course, after lunch we had to stroll around some.  Always keeping the camera at the ready in such situations, I spotted a couple of women standing by their bicycles.  I instantly recognized a perfect painting.  I immediately went into the fakey pose where my "target" is supposed to think I'm shooting something behind them.  Only to realize, I knew these people.  Friends we hadn't seen for several years!  Dios mio.  My gig was up, they both laughed, and asked if they made it into the next painting.

People watching.  What an adventure it is.

Later, Cooper

And of course you'll want to know that People Watching is quite likely going to be the title of the canvas, currently parked on the easel.  And to prove my points, all of 'em, note that the people I'm watching are watching someone too... people watching.  What an adventure it is.

Greetings,

     Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  And you saw that title, "Husband Talks Halfway Points".  

     Let's get real, I'm the painter, not him.  

     But it's caused me to wonder:  do I talk about composition a lot?  Has my non-artist husband heard me murmur thoughts about composing a canvas, in my sleep?  Am I too obsessive about composition?  Soooooo obsessive that my agricultural career husband now talks halfway points, and how it affects the current easel resident?  Just like a crazy artist?

     Is it even possible to spend too much time on composition?  Nah.

     Husband has just been around this gig long enough that it's rubbing off on him.  Hey, I know cows and pigs, too  :)

     And by now, surely you need to see the current painting on the easel, and cause of his line of compositional reasoning about it.

     See how the path takes a left turn and runs right off the canvas, almost exactly at the halfway point?  And can you feel how uncomfortable that is?  No wonder we're not supposed to cut a canvas in half with the paint brush!  (what was I thinking!)  And if you look really close, there's a sketch line, below it, where the path will probably be tomorrow.  Just the sketchy line already makes it feel better.      Who'd a thunk it, eh?

     It all became blatantly obvious the moment I turned canvas upside down.....Dios mio.

     Stay tuned for the finish!

Later, Cooper

     Oh.  And it already has a name.  "I Like Your Music, Mister"

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today we will discuss Omaha, Nebraska.  Sort of.

You'll note that my online portfolio often mentions the Dundee Gallery, in Omaha, and yes, of course, they show my paintings.  As of Friday, they have new & more to show.  

Would you like their link?  But of course!

http://dundeegallery.com/

-Located in historic Dundee—Omaha, Nebraska, the Dundee Gallery is home to an outstanding collection of paintings, sculpture, ceramics, glass, and jewelry. Our artists’ works range from great gifts for friends to a piece trans­forming your home or business-

And there are several excellent places to eat right in the district, so make a day of it!

And the painting attached to this post?  Walking The Neighborhood.  And the neighborhood they're walking?  Dundee.  Naturally!

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

Scanning.  In our techno-modern world, scanning really is a multi use word, but the title and focus of this post is going to settle on Webster 2B:  

 to glance from point to point often hastily, casually, or in search of a particular item

I've mentioned in recent posts that my current job description includes 2 hours of research for my spouse's work, scheduled to happen during non studio hours.  Makes for a full day, and encourages excellent use of each hour.  Shew!  That said, my scanning speed has picked up considerably over the last several months.  My eyes attack that screen with a vengeance, picking out only the necessary stuff.

Okay, so to continue this post, we need to veer over to the Jefferson Public Library  (one of my fav city institutions by the way!)  I finally got my email address added to my patron account, which among many benefits is that helpful email about "your books are due".  Have I mentioned that Jefferson's library is actually two buildings with a connector atrium?  Children's section on the east, adults in the west wing.  And it only makes sense that the books due warning comes with labels designating which wing your stuff is due at.  Until.  Speed scan that line and what do ya' get?  Adult books, Jefferson Library.  Dios mio.  Yes, I backed up, slowed down and reread that one.  And made a mental note to get the almost delinquent one up there yet this morning.  

But really, you've got to admit, scanning is normally a good thing.  Scanning is usually a self tool to absorb just the information you need.  Brief.  To the point.  Concise.  Narrows the finish to a powerful, compelling result.

I am reading Landscape Painting, Inside and Out, Macpherson.

"Quickly glance at your subject, then shut your eyes.  What harmony, mood and overall color quality does the scene exude?   What one color is predominant?  Trust yourself."

"Choose your color notes.  Look at the subject for one second, then look away from it.  React to your first impression.  If you stare too long into the scene, the colors and values can start to bleach out from overanalyzing.  Trust your impression of the color."

I think he means trust your scan.

So you have 53 tubes of paint on your table, and a desire to use them all - one scene, one canvas.  May I suggest that would be a perfect time to do a little scanning?  Pick and choose.   And the forest scene?  Better if you don't paint in every tree you see.  Survey that scene with a scanner eye - you'll catch the important ones, the one's you should paint in.  The street scene is more intriguing if you don't paint in every single sign, every brick in the building, every person on the sidewalk.

Right??

Scan.  Find the good stuff and get it on the canvas.  Leave the rest by the wayside.  Scan.  Yup, part of an artist's job description is to pick and choose.  Who knew?!

Later, Cooper

And tomorrow a new painting to post.  Stay tuned.

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Yup, that same Jefferson, Iowa that hosts the Iowa Bicycle Festival.

All Ability Cycles, also in Jefferson, lives in a beautifully restored building on the courthouse town square of Jefferson.  Did I mention they gained some beautiful walls with their renovation?  And putting the walls to good work, they host the art show that goes along with the Iowa Bicycle Festival.

Now, pay attention here:  the Iowa Bicycle Festival is a one day event, but the ART SHOW itself, while opening on that festival day, stays up through the end of June, so a full month plus of exhibit.  I suppose I should mention there is also an opening the prior evening for bicycle aficionados.  Hey, people who ride bicycles like wine and cheese, too!

Any way, here's the part that might interest you.  The art show is a juried competition for bicycle art.  All about the bicycle.  Do you want the link?  But of course:

http://www.iowabicyclefestival.com/Juried_Art_Show.html         (or click here)

Now don't ever say I never gave you anything :)  Happy painting.  And bicycling.

Later, Cooper

oh, and there are links on Professional Artist's "calls to artists" page,

http://www.professionalartistmag.com

as well as at:  Artshow.com

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where the current painting is at a crossroads.  It's pushing and pulling my thought processes around.  Back and forth.  This way and that way.  Yes or no, and then a no and yes.  And YOU thought painting was easy?  Dios mio!

Focus-wise, when it comes to a painting, just like a lot of artists, I like to break the canvas into thirds.  And I think the larger the canvas, the more important that becomes.  This one's a 30 x 30.

And the focus is definitely hanging on that upper horizontal 1/3 mark.  As you might guess, the bottom 2/3 is the portion that has me saying "whaaaaat?!"

Yes, it's present and accounted for, the story continues there, but the details, what about those critters?  Can I leave them out?  What about the light that shoots between her elbow and her side?  Can the painting live without that?  Can the light and shadows on that lower portion go absent if that's what the composition wants?  That's the "back" of back & forth.  The "forth" says put those details in there. Make it work.  Put those critters in with such finesse, just the right touch to point to the true focus.  Accentuate it.  Go for it!  Whew.  Back & forth.  

That title?  Figurative.  Literal Or Figurative.  I sometimes think of literal as photo realism in the painting world.  Figurative then would be an impression.  A translation of the reality..

As you surely know by now, I am a figurative painter.  Hooked on painting people.  If you paint a landscape, leaving a branch out of your favorite tree (for compositional purposes!) who's to know?  Or care?

If you're painting three women walking up the street, and you leave off the bottom of their shirts, or the fingers off a hand - whoa.  Now you start to offend folks.

Push, pull.  Literal or figurative.  Back & forth.  And you though it was just painting and canvas and brushes.  Ha.

Thanks for stopping by!

Later, Cooper

And before the blog gets posted, we have a post script!  Your really did want the rest of the story, right??!  Add the bottom of the shirts, don't pay much attention to the fingers, and forget the shaft of light shooting between her elbow and shirt.  That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  It's signed and I like it  :)

   Hottest Ride Ever, an acrylic painting on a remarkable 30 x 30 inch canvas, making ALL of us wish for summer...

Oh, and the linkable for that ever desirable zoom-able view, right here.  Enjoy!

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

The name of that kid's book came to mind as I looked out the studio window this morning.  Planes, Trains, And Automobiles.

First, I suppose you need the weather report.  Jefferson got whammed by a winter storm this past weekend.  10" of really heavy white stuff & lots o' wind.  Whew!

But, if you are a landscape artist (nope, not me) that does winter (really not me) there is a great lesson right out my studio window. Planes.  

Planes.  Yeah, so lose the train & auto part, focus on the planes.  While I don't relish the study of painting an evergreen tree all that much, I know there are people who do.  And by the number of them done with something lacking, I'll bet a look at the trees across the street for my studio window would help.  Planes.  Evergreen trees are full of them.  Not just a big triangle pointed at the sky, but a shape full of planes.  All shapes and sizes of planes shoved together into that big shape.   And, look what a great job of highlighting those planes that snow did!  Wowza!

I am currently in the middle of "Power Color" by Caroline Jasper, which includes a segment from the studio of Camille Przewodek.  (At the risk of oversimplification) I was captivated by how her approach to color is managed by surface planes.

Fellow 2 D artists:  we live in a 3 D world.  It's a world full of planes, and sometimes they are just begging to be noticed.  We, of all people, probably should  :)  Thanks for stopping by, and have a lovely day!

Later,

KCooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

Saturday, I got an email.  It was from the company I order garden seed from.  Yes, I had already ordered for 2013.  The seed was sitting in the box in the kitchen cupboard, waiting for the proper time.  So Saturday, came the email from Johnny's:  Start Your Tomatoes.  And so I did.  That little email was welcome on several different counts, but today we'll focus on one.

I think it highly appropriate to make a list at this point.  Here goes:

Gentlemen, Start your engines!

Anchors Away!

On your mark, get set!

Rev On the Red Line!

Well, it's one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, now go, cat, go.

Hoist those sails!

Go Big Red!

Step on the gas!

Kick it into gear!

Come On Baby Light My Fire!

Play ball!

Aaaand, they're off!

Blast off!

Sunny Days, Chasing Those Clouds Away!

and of course, Start your tomatoes!

Words to get us moving, surely.  Talk of phrases that start something.  At the start of something.  In fact, maybe at the start of a BIG something.

Yesterday, I was thinking about words like that.  Tis the season for summer art fair artists.  "Wait" you say.  "I still see snow/slush/brown in my yard.  Summer art fair?  Pshaw." 

However, for those un-indoctrinated amongst us, truly, tis the season.  The "A" tier festivals have juried and notifications have spewed forth.  Level B show apps are due NOW and maybe even yesterday.  (Let's not talk about level C, maybe they'll go away if we ignore them, aaach, but a story for another day)

"Now where is she going with this?" I'm sure you're beginning to wonder.  Here:  have you ever noticed what a starting phrase does for you? 

On your mark, get set, and the adrenaline kicks in.  Sunny days, chasing those clouds away, while a friendly, happy kids program shows up on IPTV, and kids young and old smile.  Go Big Red, and the stadium erupts with "Their Is No Place Like Nebraska".  Start you tomatoes, and it's a new gardening season, spring is surely just around the corner.

Drats.  We seem to have omitted one. 

Congratulations, you've been accepted...

Oh-oh.   I need more paintings.  What on earth have I been doing with my time all winter long?  Kick it into gear!  Blast off!  Come on baby light my fire!  Rev on the red line!

Sometimes we just need a few words to inspire us.  Launch us into action.  At the start of something.  In fact, maybe at the start of a BIG something.  I'd like to think so.

Cooper

PS:  as we have already talked about "Congratulations you've been accepted", may I direct your attention to my calendar page?  Yup, the beginning of the summer art fair season for the Cooper camp.  And a new little painting to help you think summer even more:

  Sunny Days, Chasing Those Clouds Away, a nicely sized 12 x 12 inch canvas, and yes, for your viewing pleasure, in my website portfolio.  The place  with that uber-cool zoom feature...

Greetings, 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Yup, it's still winter in Jefferson.  Last week we got about 5 inches of snow, and no, this is NOT a weather report.  It's more of a commentary on winter.  An opinionated commentary.  

See, we have this problem around here, I'm not sure I was made to handle winter.  When I was a kid I don't think it was such an issue, but now that I know better - give me that summer sun!

When winter starts to show it's big cold presence, I go into full dress regalia.  I own a really great collection of turtlenecks and sweaters.  I often catch myself wondering, when I see other people out in the world during the winter months, with exposed skin.  No matter the amount of exposed, I inwardly shudder as I think, "whoa, that's got to be so uncomfortable".  Unpleasant. Chill unwanted.  

I am ALL OVER the layered look.  All about sweaters over turtlenecks, hoods over headwarmers, sweatpants over running pants.  I like warm, 'nuff said.

Surely by now, you all know this blog always takes the story line back to painting-land.  Well, surprise!  This layered line of thinking actually came from painting land.  I was at the easel, self-marveling at the number of layers of paint on the canvas du jour.  May I say they are becoming lovely?  And so, we really need to talk a moment about the layered look on a painting, a piece of canvas.

What is it about the build up of paint layers that is so enticing?  The brush strokes, undoubtedly, and surely the impasto touches that grow the textural feel.  Then there's that happiness where you can see dabs of the previous color layer, and maybe even the one before that, showing through, gleaming like the gems they are.  And then, don't deny it, there is a richness there in those multiple layers - how can you put down a layer of cad yellow, cover it with violet, and still feel the warmth?  Amazing, truly amazing.

The layered look.  It's even better on your painting, than a sweater over a turtleneck in a Jefferson, Iowa winter.  Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

and the updated image of the aforementioned canvas?  But of course:

  still on the easel but progress is happening - oh, and some insider info:  in my head & mental vision, she's already pushing a bike.  You'll get that visual reality soon :)

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I've been catching up on some reading.  Don't you love it when I do that - it always sparks an interesting blog post or two :)

But today, I just want to share.  I'll give you a couple of paragraphs from the article I just read, and applauded, and then you can decide for yourself, if you want to click on the link and finish the article!  

The people who are splashing paint on a canvas in pretty patterns, or brushing it on in aesthetically pleasing color combinations, are not doing anything abstract. They are merely depositing little tangible blobs of paint that do not stand in for anything at all.

I genuinely believe that people have derived a sense of aesthetic pleasure from some of their creations. But they are not in fact works of art. The most beautiful of their color fields cannot compare to a field of primroses. They are not works of art, no matter how beautiful, because there are no real abstractions in them, there are no meaningful selections from nature, no great activity of mind. They may mix colors prettily as they please (most of them aim for ugliness) but without selection based on knowledge of the forms of the real world they do not make works of art - and they are not artists.

the author:  

Fred Ross, Chairman of the Art Renewal Center

and where it can be found:

http://www.artrenewal.org/articles/2005/Abstract/Ross.php

I think I wrote a blog post about this before, but it does bring to mind the old Hans Christian Anderson story, The Emperor's New Clothes, eh?  Enjoy the article, and have a lovely weekend!

Cooper

Oh look, and I found that Emperor's New Clothes post:  click here

And since Fred, up there, was talking color, would you like to see how my easel looks at the moment??  :)

It's already sporting a name:  Last Full Weekend In July, and all good Iowans (and a host of others!) know what that means.  RAGBRAI.  Stay tuned.  It's going to be a fun one...

Greetings, 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today we're talking about muscles...

You saw that title, right?  Put Some Muscle Into It.

Some people run and hide (or attempt to) when they hear that phrase.  Most of us associate it with a task that requires some heavy lifting:

-Honey, let's rearrange the living room furniture

-Hey friend, we're moving on Saturday

-or the worst:  Buddy, I've got this piano...

No matter the subject/object, when someone tells you to "put some muscle into it" they are usually thinking about your back muscles, and their hope that you're willing to apply some extra effort on their behalf.

Hopefully in most crowds of exuberant back muscle flexers is a health professional who reminds everyone to "lift with your knees, not your back".  Aaaah, wise muscle usage.  Intelligent application of effort.  Putting some muscle into it - with thought.

I should probably interject here, that last night was life drawing group, and my side of the room studied back muscles...

As you know, by now, this blog invariably applies every "moral of the story" back to painting & art.  And why on earth would we allow this singular post to be an exception?  Here goes:

1.  So you can expend effort, put some muscle into it, go about "making" art.  You can throw paint at a canvas and hope it all lands in a good place.  Or that you can find an important person willing to tell the world that your paint always lands in the right place.

2.  Or you approach your canvas, with wise effort.  Flex your brain, before you put your muscle into it.  Fill your brain with some knowledge before you put some muscle into it, showing the world your art.

It's hard to be an expert at much of anything, if you don't know what you're talking about, eh?

Thanks for stopping by!

Later, Cooper

  And a quick peak at Wednesday night's study - also in my portfolio, with that lovely zoom feature for a better look.  Click here for that.

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

My current library book is Colour And Light In Oils, Nicholas Verral.  I am just barely started and whamo!!!  There it is.  The key phrase.  The basic premise.  The "this is so simple, surely you get it, right?"

"What I'm trying to achieve is a flow of light from some outside source to a focal point within the picture."

Well, duh.  Isn't that what we all want?  And how kind of you to make it sound so simple...

In reality, I believe most of us learned another phrase as well, the one that relates a picture to how many words it is worth.  A thousand or so, is what they tell us.  

The moral of this story comes pretty fast, doesn't it?  An artist can read a lot of words, but they're not worth nearly as much in a book of art instruction as they are , when being worked out, picture style, on the canvas.   Wait - make that canvases.

Art books are wonderful critters, but the best is when you put their words to work in the studio.  And I had a lovely painting day today.  Thanks for wondering!

Later, Cooper

and one of those canvases for you to peruse:

Beach Buddy, an acrylic painting on a splendid 32 x 46 inch canvas.  In my website portfolio, of course, where you can have that helpful zoom feature as needed.

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I just spent most of the afternoon with material.  Reference material.  You know, sketches and photos.  Things you've saved to build paintings from.

Heavy sigh.  How can something be so pleasant AND frustrating at the same time?  Because, you see, I want it all.  I saved all that reference material because I WANTED to.  Something out in the world intrigued me.  I made notes, took photos, made people wonder what the heck I was doing.  

It's good stuff, things I've seen and really enjoyed.  And I know they'll be stellar paintings.  One of these days.  WhyOhWhy can't I paint just a little bit faster?   I want to paint it all.  I WANT IT ALL.

Just for a moment, allow me to insert some photo images, places my painting desires touched on this afternoon:

See?  So you'll notice I've cropped, reshaped, added bits and pieces, before I stuck it all together in this one place.  This afternoon, each one of these moments gained their own file on the computer, where I mixed in some notes, filled text boxes with plans for each one.  But we both know I probably can't have it all.  I'm going to have to edit out some material.  There's just too much of it, no matter that it's good stuff, there's still too much of it.

I have narrowed down the painting plans for tomorrow.  Sort of.  I printed off three of those files to take out to the studio.  We'll see which one grabs me the most in the morning.  But even then, editing isn't done.

There's that old problem of wrecking a painting by trying to put too much into it.  Every tree in the forest.  Every person on the beach.  Every fan in the crowd.  The painting just doesn't want them all, even if the artist does.  So we edit a little more.  

We take out details that we like, but don't really matter to the story.  We simplify.  We focus.  And the painting will be better for it.

And for you non-painters out there?  Heck, apply it to life.  Just from the sound of it, it will probably work there too.  I've heard having it all really isn't all it's cracked up to be any way.  :)

So thanks for stopping by, and have a lovely week.  I'll be painting!

Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I suppose, pretty quick-like, we should try to re-phrase that a little more politically correctly.  So how about So Why Do Artists Paint The Nude Figure Anyway?  Slightly better?

There is that "historic" classic study venue opinion.  Where way back when, anyone wanting to be an artist shuffled off to the atelier where they first drew from plaster casts, and then when the head honcho (master!) decided that they were good enough, they graduated to the live model.  (or so I'm told)  The art history books tell us this was NOT a six week session, btw.  It was a multi-year schedule for "how to become an artist" - the classical study way.

May I interject my personal opinion?  About practicing drawing the figure?  I have a daughter who just put the finishing touches on her thesis toward her doctorate in piano pedagogy and performance.  Way back when she started this adventure, we heard from instructors and mentors alike, saying "if you can play classical, you can play anything".  I like to think that translates to "if I can draw the figure classically, I can draw anything".  Kind of a top of the heap kind of concept.

I suppose there are one or two of you who say "pshaw, I don't need to know how to draw to be an artist.  I can be an artist, without all that practicing stuff.  Lots of famous artists make it that way.  Learning to draw is only for those realist artists."  Well, maybe, maybe not.  I always find it interesting to look back at an artist's roots - how much practice time did they put in at learning to draw, and would they  have reached famous status without it?  Cubist, fauvist, expressionist?  Study drawing?  Yup.

Maybe you could be one of the rare ones to achieve fame and fortune sans the drawing skills, but me - well, I went to life drawing group again last night.  Perfection is not mine.  Yet.  :)

Later, Cooper

How did the drawing session go?  Would you like to see the study?  But of course!

  Life Study, charcoal on paper, 2/6/2013.  And because this post is so black, white, and shades of gray to this point, let me show you the new little painting that just got put into my website portfolio:

  City Dog, a spiffy little 12 x 12 inch canvas, available to zoom in for a closer look, by clicking here  

Thanks for stopping by!  KC

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where contrary to that title, we will actually be talking about commissioned paintings.  That title is just fallout...

I believe I've mentioned in a few posts recently, that most of my studio time has been going to commissioned works.  Wait.  Make that ALL of my studio time.  There were several of them, those commissioned paintings, which is a good thing, yes?  The last of the whole group that was scheduled for "the winter season" is now leaning on the studio wall, looking pretty much complete.

Next paragraph:  (yes, these things will all tie together eventually)  My favorite art supplier accidentally included some stretchers in my order that I had not ordered.   When I called and let them know, they sent me a return FedEx label to send them back.  But by then, of course, I was well into that aforementioned string of commissions, three due by Christmas time, and had no time to re-package.  Fortunately, as I will eventually show you!  

As I was headed down the homestretch on those commissions, there over in the corner of the studio lay the stretchers.  Un-return-shipped, but hey, no paint splatters either!  Now here's the deal:  The Blicks are very generous size-wise when they ship un-ordered stretchers.  As they lay there, and I was still painting per /others specifications, I began to dream about a few of my own.  Things I could paint on the canvas that I could stretch over those nice long bars.  Things that nobody could "look over my shoulder" and second guess. Critique.  Whatever.

As I painstakingly designed each brush stroke needed to complete that commission so the commission-ee would have no choice but to love it, my attention would wander over to those stretchers laying in the corner.  And you guessed it.  I began to think of them as MY stretchers.  Heck.   Even beyond that, MY paintings ON those stretchers.  Oh, anticipation.

And the rest of the story:  I called the Blick-folk.  Told them to put the stretcher bars on my card.  Canvas went on.  Paint started flying.  And here's a funny thing.  Well, maybe not so funny.  It took me four months to get those commissions done. True, one of them was king-sized at 72 inches wide, and his daughter's wedding party, at that, so no quick task, with this most recent one being a family of six on the beach...you get the picture, right?  Personal, and therefore important and essential that they be just right.  

Many were the flags of self doubt that I waved in front of my own face, while at the easel, working on those commissions.  And it slows you down, all those flags.  Was it worth it?  Yes.  And not just the paycheck.  I like to think it took my painting up another notch, and I also like to think the results of those commissioned paintings prove it.

The canvas on the easel now, is MY painting.  No flags of self-doubt - if I don't like it when it's done, I can paint over it.  Or stretch a new piece of canvas on those stretcher bars.  No matter.

And here's the thing about no worries.  The paintbrush is flying.  It's back to play time.  

There is one itty-bitty problem with play time...  The sweet potatoes, mentioned up there in the title?  They were supposed to go in the oven in time for lunch.  A painter in play mode, tends to lose track of time when the paint brush is flying unimpeded.  When husband walks from his office into my studio, with his stomach growling, asking "what are we doing for lunch?", I look at the clock that already reads way past lunch time, and reply, "Aw, shoot.  I guess we'd better nuke those sweet potatoes".

See?  I told you it'd all come together in the end...

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

I suppose I should show you what IS on the easel - not done, but getting there soon.  (Warren Dunes, and its summer!  Yeah.)

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where amazingly, we're going to talk about the like button.  Or maybe just the concept of "like".  I guess we'll define that further as we progress.  By the way, this is not a complex of my own choosing.  It was thrust upon my by NPR...

Yes, as I listened to a National Public Radio interview this afternoon, this whole concept of "like", by the simple act of clicking a computer button, caused me to delve into a deep thought funk.

Of course, I suppose I'll need to enlighten you as to the interview, unless maybe you also heard it.  It was the one about how the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture for you city slickers) has been working on a new system for inspecting poultry.  Nobody approves when things hit the meat counter at the local grocer, laden with bacteria or something equally awful.  So they (USDA) worked their little hearts out (okay, I embellished there) devising this new system.  Of course NPR found a person who had worked the old system her entire life, who of course said "no way the new one can work".  I even heard it was supposed to cost less - heavens!  So of course a facebook petition to shout it down was in order:  197,000 people clicked the like button to vote for the petition.

And here comes my question:  of 197,000 individuals who voted in favor of "no way the new one can work", how many of them have ever read the USDA rules for poultry inspection?  How many of them have ever been near a poultry processing facility, much less inside one?  How many of those 197,00 voters know what and how much a turkey wants to eat?  What their favorite temperature for good growth is?    How many of them have ever even seen a chicken other than at the grocer or on their table???

Now of course I am always a little miffed when people who have never spent an hour of their life studying agriculture, pretend to be experts over the internet, assume they automatically know how all cows REALLY want to live.  Are certain that pigs like to lay in the mud instead of living in a nice clean barn.  All that stuff.  Point:  giving you a like button on facebook is not the same as giving you a degree in agriculture.

And HERE"S where we make the swing back into art - land.  Were you getting worried?   :)

As far as being a respected authority in the field of agriculture, a facebook "like" button isn't worth a hill of beans.  (sorry, pun)  Agriculture is about science and rules and formulas and numbers.  If you don't follow them, you lose, and then you don't get to be a farmer anymore.   Now, art on the other hand...  you see the difference, don't you?

Sure artists have rules to follow too.  There's the matter of composition.  Values.  Perspective & foreshortening.  All that fun stuff.  But when an artist gets all that done, and puts the finished painting out there, for people to look at, the formula part of creating art takes a back seat.

Because, here's the deal,  everyone can look at art.  While gallerists and museum directors and art historians and interior decorators (!) like to think they are indispensable, someone should tell them, that behind their backs, people are still formulating their own thoughts about the art.

When you look at a work of art, you've got about three options

1.  you like it

2.  you don't like it

3.  you are completely ambivalent, which for all effects and purposes is just the same as #2

The bottom line is, for the viewer of art, art is all about opinion.  Sure, an art education might change your opinion, but it won't give you an absolute, a black and white, a "this is right & that is wrong" certainty.  

So what's the moral of the story here?  Look at art.  Form your own opinions.  Speak about your thoughts.  It's okay.  The like button works for art.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I read an article recently.  Yet, another artist explaining why he had started making "prints" (reproductions) of his work.

The first reason given, example used, is that we've all had copies hanging in our space at some point in time.  Copies of famous artist's work, so famous that no one can afford them.  The names used were Monet, Pissarro, that caliber of famous.  

The logic was that having copies made of their work didn't damage their reputation or value of work, so it wouldn't harm us modern day artists either.  (it was the perfect opener to launch into one of my continuing tirades...)

Hunh.  Honey you're just not that important.  You're speaking of artists whose work has stood the test of time.  A very few artists, a select few artists.  Certainly not every Tom, Dick and Harry painting at the time, right?

And those copies were made AFTER they were famous, dead/gone/and buried, and NOT able to create any more new work.

So copy maker of today:  you are just not that important - and I'll be generous, not knowing your specific situation, and add that great word - YET.  

In the meantime, paint on.  Those little paper/canvas copies are just space takers.  Taking up the space that the real work should occupy.  Taking up the space of time when you could be creating the next great art, instead of managing yesterday's stuff that wasn't quite as good as tomorrow's.

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I just got done watching a segment of the morning news.  Dios mio.

Somewhere in the world (I missed the location) a girl got her tongue stuck in a metal water bottle.  She's all better now, but her parents are thinking about suing.  They would be in line with all the parents suing over the plastic water bottles from a couple years back that started to break down and have a cancer causing potential.   (I guess the moral to the story is we SHOULD all drink from the garden hose)

But hey, wait a minute.  Aren't kids supposed to do things like that?  Put foreign objects up their nose? Drink from the garden hose? Stick their tongues and fingers in places where they get caught?   Their toes in the bathtub faucet?  It's only natural, right?

I vaguely remember from childhood a book where the boy got his tongue stuck to the (frozen) light post.  Did his parents hop right up and sue the city for having a frozen light post?  I think not.  They probably used their common sense, melted the kid's tongue free, and said "I'll bet you won't do that again".   Aah, back in the good old days, the natural way.

May I say I picked up some new library books over the weekend?  Paint With The Impressionists, Stephenson.  Aah the natural way, back in the good old days.

I think there are some artists around today, who kind of need to regroup with this whole concept.  I see motives of make the big splash, the new big thing etc.  Doing it to stand out.  

Standing out should happen because you are painting extraordinarily well, not because of the gimmick you employ.  My opinion, and I'm sticking to it!  Thanks for stopping by!

Later, Cooper

And would you like to see the painting the delivery truck is picking up today? :)  Yup, 30 x 72.  Whew, it was fun!

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

There is an elusive word out there among artists.  Heck, I think a lot of other lines of persuasion use it as well.

Talent.

So here we are at a blog, where the subject is always art, and I just typed the talent word.  May I say that I am already concerned about today's post?

 Talent.  I am positive there are people who use the talent word as a shield, a defense mechanism:  

I don't have talent, so I can't do THAT.  (in fact, I don't even have to try)

I don't have talent (like that person does) why does everybody get talent, but me?

I don't have talent, so I'll just find an easier way.

I would say there are a lot of people who view talent as the name for a raw material.  An ingredient you have to have before you can create-build-develop-achieve a desired result.

What if talent is on the other end of that equation?  What if talent is an end result?  A finished product instead of a raw material-input?  What if the raw ingredients are desire and effort?  And you put enough of them together, that someday it becomes talent?

Wow.  What a fine mental muddle I've talked us into this lovely Saturday morning.  I think we'll table this discussion, so that I can show you what started the thought process.  And no, I didn't paint it  :)

We'll get back to this soon.  Until then, thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, the day AFTER the opening.

And may I say, what an unusual opening it was, on so many good counts?  Let me set the stage:

  A happy little bicycle shop, on the southeast corner of the town square, in Jefferson.  Yes, the 1930's vintage courthouse, which gives all courthouse squares their bragging rights, would be off to your photo image left.  The shop's name is All Ability Cycles, and they have bicycles that most of you don't even know exist.  

  How many people can say they decorated their tree with Bromptons??  (yup, nifty bicycles that fold to a size just slightly larger than a brief case.  (gives new meaning to taking your bike to work)  They also have a beautifully restored building with perfect walls for an art exhibit, I must add.  So this would be an image of the shop before the bustling throng arrived on Thursday night.  And they did arrive, wow!  

Out front we parked a Gazelle "box" bicycle, made for toting your load down the trail.  But for a December art opening, it worked great for collecting bags of food for the food pantry drive we'd planned for the evening as well:

  (Yes, this nifty creation will also carry two children quite willingly  - 515.386.8900 - tell John hi)  But I digress.  We're talking art here.  Creative things, you know.

And sometimes it's just for fun.  I know, I know.  You could take that to mean that I went to all that work and didn't sell anything, but I had a good time anyway, blahblahblah...  Wrong.  Art sold.  And obviously you missed the point of that title I gave this thing:  Sometimes It's Just For Fun.  Most of the year we are so busy being artists, working artists, yes-this-is-a-business, that we forget to enjoy what we've got.  We forget to have fun painting, sculpting, drawing, creating.  And what does the art lose out on because of that bit of forgetfulness?  

I am still working on a Christmas present-commission.  (yes, yikes!)  One of the people in this painting was just not behaving this morning.  Sometimes by turning the canvas on edge, I can see my problem, and get around it.  (weird, eh?)  But this particular canvas is a 30 x 72 inches.  (NOT a typo)  Nope, not turning on edge.  And yet, how could I get that guy to smile like he was supposed to?  By the time he finally came around, I realized that even though I'm painting from a group of photographs, I was smiling for him.  Getting in the attitude of a good smile.  Having fun.  The painting comes along a lot easier when you're smiling.  And there you have it:  Sometimes It's Just For Fun.

Yes, my art is my business.  Probably just like yours, if you are an artist reader.  But really, is there a law against enjoying your business?  Having fun while you work?  Taking a moment to smell the roses, er, sniff the paint?  :)  I think not.

And in our pre-event publicity, we not only encouraged people to have fun sharing with the food pantry drive I've already mentioned, but we encouraged them to dress appropriately for an art opening.  Sometimes it's just for fun!

Dressing in the art opening prescribed black is so over rated.  Sometimes we just gotta have fun.

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

  and yes, I did have a santa hat on earlier...

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

In the last communication, I alluded to the bicycle shop just down the street from Bunkers Dunkers :) and an upcoming exhibit there.  AND an opening.  Consider this as your invitation!  

So here we go:

All Ability Cycles

101 North Chestnut St., Jefferson, IA.

December 6th, 2012

7-9PM

and we're even having art exhibit appropriate refreshments!

For the impatient, yeah, the paintings are already there...  and there's even more on the other side of the shop:  bicycle paintings!

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where I'm in a sharing mood.

In fact, it's a pretty good sharing mood.  I am sharing blog space with Pierre Auguste Renoir.  And some other pretty much high rollers, as well.  And before you ask, the blog author was not contrasting excellence with - well, less than excellence.  The blog author apparently writes poetry, to illustrate appreciated paintings.

One of mine made the cut.  Hey, along with Pierre!

Okay, so now I will mention that I know it was all just coincidental.  Sigh.  

But the whole event helps me point out a thought I've tried to share here before.  That living in fear of your work being copied, smearing COPYRIGHTED in big ugly text over the face of your online image, spending more time running defense than actually painting - it just all seems pretty counterproductive to me.

I live by these parameters, in lieu of copy-fear-land:

1.  I paint for people to enjoy.  For some reason, there are a whole fleet of people in Portugal, who continue to enjoy this painting.  It's been written about in several blog articles originating from there.  (thanks Portuguese folk for appreciating!)

2.  When COPYRIGHTED gets plastered over an online image of a painting, someone interested in owning said painting is going to have a pretty hard time determining that.  Is it worth chasing them away, probably to another artist's website, where they can see the WHOLE painting?

3.  I'm not a techie, but I'm guessing there are some out there that are going to figure out a way to copy, if they want to bad enough.

4.  And then there's always the thought, if someone is crazy enough to follow my lead, and paint like me,  heaven help them  :)

So there you have it, the pointed opinion from the Cooper studio, on this fine November evening of 2012.  Thanks for stopping by.  And the web presence aforementioned is attached below, for your viewing pleasure.  Sorry, the painting sold a long time ago :)

Later, Cooper

Torquato Neto          http://sindromedeestocolmo.com/category/artes/literatura/poesia/  

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

Yesterday morning was a wild time on the Jefferson town square.  I've told you about this town before, a pretty fine town of about 5,000 people, a lot of them tied to the business of agriculture.  One of the seniors gave my husband a surprise yesterday AM, but wait, I'm getting ahead of myself...

It was a fine Saturday morning in Jefferson, Iowa.  Karen manages to talk Wayne into hopping on his bicycle and heading to Bunkers's Dunkers to select some scones for a morning repast.  (hey, come on, I already told you it was Saturday)  (and the scones were cranberry and white chocolate!)  Wayne was standing in line at Bunkers (yup, it's a popular place) chatting with the other people in line.  Actually he didn't SAY he was chatting with other people in line, but I KNOW he was.  

Anyway, KERBOOM!!!!

Was it a bomb?  A gas line leak/explosion?  The sky falling?

Nope, it was a ninety-something-years-aged man attempting to park his Ford Ranger in front of Bunkers, so he too, could partake of scones.  Trouble is, he parked with his front wheels INSIDE Bunkers Dunkers, and yes, that was a little hard on Bunkers plate glass front window.  Not to mention it sort of startled Wayne, when the Ford Ranger stopped about 8 feet behind him.  And he was really glad he parked his bicycle on the north side of Bunkers door, rather than the south....

Now brace, yourself, here comes the interesting part.  The driver of said Ranger, backed his vehicle into the space he'd originally attempted, and walked into Bunkers to place his order.  As the local officers pulled up, the elderly gentleman was headed back to his vehicle, bag of scones in hand, probably so he could go home and share them with the missus, right?  At that point, Wayne gave the officers the high-sign that equated to "yeah, that guy, you need to visit with him before he leaves".

But I think everybody that needed scones, got some. 

And yes, there's a moral to this story.  Or an analogy to be drawn.  You chose.

Sometimes you go to an event, say an art exhibit.  Yours.  And it goes almost as bad as driving your Ford Ranger through a plate glass window.  Sometimes you just have to pick up the pieces (er, scones) (or paintings) and go back home.  But the deal is, there's no sense getting all upset at the scene.  Because unless you are one of those crystal ball kinda people, you don't know who's at the exhibit, and already mentally lining up to call you day after tomorrow, possibly even three weeks later, to have you ship that painting to them.

I can verify that sort of thing happens.  Been there, done that.  (oh wait.  I mean I got the painting order three weeks later, not the drive through the plate glass window)  

The point is, you can get all upset, at said crappy exhibit, but that's not good for your mental/physical well being.  We've all been told that, and quite likely it's true.  And the other thing is, by wearing your smile upside down, at same said crappy exhibit, you could be changing the minds of the patrons mentally planning on ordering that painting day after tomorrow.  Nobody likes the apparent sore loser.  If you've got marvelous paintings hanging there, you've done good.

Later, Cooper

And one more thing:  on the southeast corner of the courthouse square in Jefferson ( just 1/2 block south of Bunkers Dunkers!) is All Ability Cycles.  What a great place for an exhibit of paintings, bicycles and other people pleasers as well.  And so we've been busy moving a whole fleet of paintings from the studio to the bicycle shop.  Opening date/reception info to follow shortly.  Stay tuned!

  Healthy Alternatives, acrylic painting on an outstanding 30 x 30 inch canvas, just moved to All Ability Cycles,  for your viewing pleasure.  But still on the website portfolio, for instant gratification:  click here

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today, AGAIN, we will be dredging up the subject of the summer art fair.  Specifically, we will peer into the category, dead beat art fairs that live on.  

Oh, wait, surely we can call those of the dead beat sort "pretend" or "wanna-be" or even the s-word.  Schlock! It doesn't seem honest or just, to the subject of art, to call these wanna-be events anything remotely related to creative.  Is it?

Okay.  Sigh.  Here we go.  

Several seasons ago, I was exhibiting at an art fair, about three hours from the family casa.  Saturday had been slightly dampish.  There was a moderate attendance.  I sold some paintings.  Nothing earth shattering.  Sunday dawned the same.  Hmm, do you have to have sun to legally say the day dawned?  No sun.  But some people came.  Not enough people to stop me from noticing the humidity was sky rocketing.  Hey, what else can you say about June in the midwest?

About 3PM, I felt it.  I could see my trusty art-schleping car right over there in the parking lot.  I was supposed to put everything into said trusty car and LEAVE.  What?  Nobody does that.  My artist neighbors looked at me like I was crazy.  Sorry guys, here I go.  About an hour before the art fair's official closing time, I was at the quick shop at the edge of town purchasing my drive-down-the-road-coffee.  I ran back out to the the car, just as it broke loose, pretty much every weather related thing except a tornado.  The wind that came with it didn't seem too far off of tornado speed, however.  As I drove off, I felt sorta bad for my art fair neighbors, who at that very moment, I knew, were valiantly trying to secure-protect-salvage their art and belongings.

So, the question du jour:  is the art fair artist a personality type that is completely oblivious to gut instinct?  The tale I just told you was about should I stay or should I go.  What about gut instinct for those situations where the question is should I go or should I STAY HOME?  Are we such blooming optimists that "bad" doesn't even register on our thought-o-meter?  If we try one more time, will we win?  That "fine art fair" that now juries in things like painted fence post stumps?  Surely there will be great art there THIS year and we will all sell marvelous number of paintings?  

A fellow artist once told me I was suggesting an "artist strike" and that would never happen.  Wrong on the former, true on the latter.

But can't we individually  hone our gut instinct capabilities, and apply them to the art fair venue?  Generous would be the two strike rule: give it two chances.  If you've exhibited twice at a specific art fair, and neither time was worth it, shouldn't your gut instinct be telling you "don't go back?"  Maybe it's time to listen.

And a painting I will be taking to Art On The Prairie - Perry, this  November 10th and 11th.  And yes, I've gone twice, and they've both been good :)

  The Bicycle Pages, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 40 inches, and just put in the website portfolio, where the zoom feature there, is ever so handy for a closer look:  portfolio link

Thanks for stopping by.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where it's come to my attention that a blog post I wrote several months ago is being revisited.  So of course I started to comment back.  When I ran out of room in the comment box, two things occurred to me:

1.  I must be getting too word-y in my old (er) age, and

2.  I could also just write a follow up blog post.  So here we go.

Thinking about the summer art fair, it also occurred to me, which came first?  The chicken or the egg?  Possibly at this point, I should give you the link to the original article.  And I will draw your attention to a couple of recent comments by Jana and KarenL.  Thanks girls, if I get too crazy here I can blame it all on you.  (heheheh)

That original article started with the premise that the summer art fair has mostly turned into a lot of schlock.  Hey, it wasn't my word, I was just quoting someone else!

The comments on the post then turned toward making money, copycat art, all that ugly stuff.  And they made me realize we'd come full circle.

And it was time to ask, "which came first, the chicken or the egg?"  Art fair schlock, or money grabbing art fairs that encourage art(ahem)ists to produce schlock for a buck or two, to sell at the money grabbing art fairs to pay the money grabbing promoters for their worthless exhibit spaces?  So worthless in fact, that even though promoted as a fine art fair, in reality it is mostly schlock?  And of course, to actually sell something there that would qualify as real art (my opinions of what art is, are valid too) is becoming an increasingly ludicrous long shot.

Wow, that was a mouthful of mean words, wasn't it?  (and we even had a sermon on not judging this morning)

In her comment Jana spoke about being neighbors to the music stage at her most recent event.  Most of us have spent a weekend or two next to the beer tent, the kid's art creation station (?!!!) the "Nebraska lottery booth"  (even more !!!!!)  Why doesn't some one jump up and done and holler "what about the art?"  

If it's an art fair, do we really need the side shows?  And I already hear someone revving up their keyboard to tell me that people won't come without the funnel cakes and the music stage.  Are those the people that buy our paintings?  

What about the people that DO buy our paintings?  Are they staying away because there's so much schlock?  And if they come anyway, surely their attention span is whacked because there's so much other stuff in the way?

There are a bunch of worthless art fairs out there.  I'm guessing you'll agree.  I suggest that with artists (or pretend artists) cobbling stuff together (schlock) to sell at said worthless art fairs, it's become one (un)merry cycle.  Worthless art fairs forcing people to make schlock that will sell for a ten or twenty dollar bill, that makes worthless art fairs, that...

Yup, which came first the chicken or the egg?

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

Yesterday was the Octagon Art Festival in Ames, Iowa.  Yours truly was exhibiting paintings, and somehow managed to talk husband into going along for the day.  The show passed uneventfully, we loaded back into the auto, and then determined that we needed to reward ourselves for all our hard work, with an evening meal at the Main Street Brewery.  It's one of those warehouse-redone kind of micro brewery places, that makes really great food as well.  Pleasant, interesting atmosphere.

A group of people were seated a few minutes after us, across the aisle and back one space.  A 5-ish year old child and mom sat on one side, dad and grandpa (?) sat on the other side, of the table.  Dad and Grandpa immediately pulled out their phones and started texting/reading/whatever.  Mom and  child pulled out something that seemed to be playing a video, judging by the cartoon sounding audio that drifted across the aisle to our ears.  No, not loud enough to be objectionable.

But I thought about what they were missing.

-missing the stories they could have been sharing

-missing telling each other how their day had gone

-missing the grandpa-grandkid-time

-missing the laughter

-missing husband-wife communication time

-they were missing out on their surroundings as well

-did they notice they were in a pleasant cafe?

-did they see the cool vintage posters on the wall beside them?

-were they aware of what a great job the serving staff was doing all around them?

-did they not pay attention to the fact that the food was really well prepared, beautiful to look at, as well as to taste?

I don't know who those people were, but I felt sorry for them.  I was really glad that my husband didn't feel compelled to pull out a phone and spend his meal time looking at it.

The experts say most of the art in artists is being able to see what's around us.  Do some of us overdo it?  Maybe :)  As a dedicated people watcher & painter, I've gotten a few stare-backs as I'm busy sketching or photo-ing someone appealing that I've seen.

But what about the hand held techno things, when they are owned by an artist?  Do they make artists miss out on things they should be seeing?  Does the art we create suffer from lack of seeing?  Too much time gazing at a screen?  Not enough time seeing what's around us in our world?  I wonder.

Must be deep-thought Tuesday.  Thanks for stopping by.

Later, KCooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

There's been a discussion going on over at Art Fair Insiders, that includes the phrase "hohum landscape".

There are also constant conversations over there, at Art Fair Insiders, of artists accusing other artists of imitating their design, copying their work, infringing on copy rights.  And I will just slightly mention my ongoing annoyance with the "certificate of authenticity" especially when it's tacked on to the back of a reproduction.

I was thinking about all of that on the way home last weekend.  The local paper earlier in the week had posted the schedule for a Union Pacific steam locomotive to be making it's trek back to Omaha, passing right through our fine town.  And it was scheduled to have a "half hour stop" in Carroll, Iowa.

Expecting good photo opportunities, and just because it was a darned interesting concept, we scheduled ourselves into a photo op just west of Jefferson, and then motored the distance to Carroll to catch the viewing party there.

I'm sure I've mentioned before, the tracks running past here get a lot of traffic.  Trains often just barely ten minutes apart, in both directions.  So trains are a common sight in towns along this set of rails.  In fact, where no overpasses are available, they're often found to be a bit annoying at times as well.  Especially if the recent graffiti artists that have been tagging train cars are unskilled slackers :) and there's not much to entertain us at the train cars fly past.

In the above mentioned blog post that I linked up for you, the writer also said  "I have great respect for traditional art but it has come to the point where I have seen so many, I can't tell one artist from another".  I, of course, commented back that his style of work (abstracts) had an equal amount of hohum-edness going on, across the venue. 

I suggested that WHAT we are painting seldom leads us into hohum land, but rather the way we are putting the paint on the canvas.  And if we are JUST putting paint on canvas, that's probably a good place to stop, turn around, and go the other direction.  If our mission is to win the art fair patron poll, if we are out to paint the new popular theme, if (WHOA!) we are painting what we've seen sell well for a peer artist...   Yup.  There's the beginning of hohum-icity.

That steam engine that put in it's appearance in central Iowa?  Different.  Noteworthy.  Different.  Unique with a capital U.  Different.  People came to see it.  They brought their kids and their cameras.  "Don't get to see something like that every day, you know!"   

No, I'm not going to tell you to think like a steam engine in the midst of modern locomotives when you paint, that would just be dorky.  (and possibly messy)  But  if onlookers can't see you-the-individual in your work, if you're blending in with all the rest, then chances are, you're just putting paint on a piece of canvas.  And maybe it's time for a change.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  I'm sure you remember a recent post, written from my daughter and son-in-law's house, while they were away playing, and I was staying with their three charmers.  Definitely charmers.

And besides charming, they were good teachers, while I was there.

One morning, right after breakfast, 4yr old #1 said to 4yr old #2 "I'll be Gabby, you be Jenna".  I suppose I should give you a few background details at this point.  Liberty and Mia have been taking gymnastics for about a year now, and were ecstatic when the Olympics started, and they were allowed to stay up past their bedtime, and soak in as many details as possible about their favorite Olympians.

Somersaults after breakfast.  Oh well.

But let's think about their actions.  With thoughts of one of their favorite activities, they picked out role models, and played that they were THAT good.  That they could do gymnastics just like Gabby and Jenna.  Yes, we all know they didn't achieve quite as much that morning, but were their cartwheels a little braver?  Done with more speed and determination?  Accomplished with legs flying just a little higher in the air?  I think so.

And of course we must transfer those thoughts to canvas, paint, and easel.  Easy.  I'll be Renoir, you be Morisot.  Or you be Matisse, I'll be Maurice de Vlaminck.  Will we paint better if we imagine ourselves as great?  Maybe not to the level of a masterpiece, but possibly a little looser?  A little freer?  More playful?   More strength of line?  Some of those good things.  Maybe.

Role playing with the great ones.  Should we give it a try?

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Oh, wait, make that Newton, Iowa. Where three grandchildren are relying on me to keep my sanity while their Mom and Daddy are away for a week.  You know how sometimes in-the-know artists tell us all how we need to be more playful, have more fun when we paint?  Ha!  This week I get to play WITHOUT paint  :)

So this morning, they taught me something that I want to share with you.  I should probably mention the particulars of the teachers.  Two of them are four year old girls, one of them is a one year old little brother.  Things were getting wild and crazy at breakfast this morning, for me at least.  I suspect it's pretty much their norm  :)

Anyway, we were were about halfway through the Marshmallow Mateys and/or Fruit Loops, when four year old #1 broke into a rousing version of The Lorax song.  Probably because it seemed appropriate to her, child #2 started sharing her version of MamaMia.  (Did I mention her name is Mia?)  And I suppose because contributing seemed important, child #3 let go of a chorus of dadadada's, with several repeats included. 

Now here's the part that pertains to artists, especially those artists writing about their work and relevant life activities in a blog somewhere.  Those three musicians were just sending it out to nobody in particular.  They were filling the airwaves.  Of course I was trying to hear each one of them, but they were singing to their cereal as much as they were to me. 

I think there are quite a few artists in the world who do that very same thing, send it out in the world to nobody in particular.  They have a blog, so they figure they need to write something, anything, because of course, they have a blog.

Now my four year olds and one year old can get away with it.  Because of course, they are cute as all get out.  The artist trying to promote their work cannot rely on cuteness.  They need content, and it had better be interesting content.  And good grief, think about the title a little bit before you slap it into the box at the top of the page.  Do you really think that anyone is going to read your article, when right at the top, you tell them you just painted another bird???  Or that you just finished red rose painting #5?

I think the bottom line here is, you need to be thinking about the person you want to read your blog.  They are your audience, after all.  And unless you are as cute as can be, and your targeted reader is your grandma, I don't think filling up the space, just to say you did it, will cut it. 

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where due to outside influences, today, we will be discussing composition.  Actually, the power of composition.  Make that the power of a GOOD composition.

But first you need a setup.

Influence #1.  At the Geneva Arts Festival in July, I had a lovely conversation with Lars-Birger Sponberg (ha, look at me, the name dropper!) that included thoughts about this very subject, composition.  We discussed rules of composition, and then the breaking of said rules.  Is there a line you can't successfully cross between the two?  And if so, where the heck is it?  And how on earth many years of work experience is required of the artist to be able to recognize it, and understand it?  (if you don't know Lars, trust me, he's logged in the time, in excellent fashion)

Influence #2.  This morning I was reading @ Fine Art Views Blogs, and so enjoyed Sharon Weaver's blog on constructing the plein air painting.  Her advice is obviously applicable far and beyond just the plein air artistic venue, and this is her number one rule:   "1) The foundation is the composition. If the composition works the rest of the painting process will be on solid ground."

Influence #3.  Less than an hour later, it all played out right in front of me.  A perfect case study.  I'm sure I've mentioned in a past blog post, that I've added a gig to my daily schedule. I spend two hours @ afternoon doing research work for my spouse's work.  Early this morning, coffee mug in hand, I was reading over his shoulder, as we reviewed yesterday's research.  I had copy/pasted two articles onto one word doc.  Each article had a small photo at the upper left, each followed by about 150-200 words of text. 

Now comes that compositional dividing line:  the text of the first article did not copy/paste well.  Yes, the words were all there in the correct  order, but the generations of Microsoft had messed with the spacing.  A sentence here, a paragraph down there.  Three lines of space at this point, 5 1/2 at the next.  And of course, you guessed it.  Husband scrolled right through.  Spent 15 seconds, tops.  Yup, he scrolled right through that pathetic composition, without a single backward glance.  Right to the second part of the research, and of course you know the second part was NOT a victim of Microsoft Word generational sparring.  Yes, arrangement of blocks of text on a page, is a graphic, to be composed, just as is so with a painting.

I watched  (in awe of the power of composition) as husband settled in and read the second part start to finish.  Truly, I felt like a scientist with a lab test.  As Sharon said in her plein air article "The foundation is the composition", and this morning in my science lab, er, husband's office, I watched it happen.  Composition has the power.  If yours is scattered and messy, my scientific study (heheh) results say your work is going to get passed right over.  Yup, the viewer will zoom right by your stuff, to visually land on the well composed. 

I recommend taking thoughts of composition with you when you go to the easel.  Oh, the power of a good composition.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today, we're discussing things "off the radar screen", things unintentionally evading detection, things UN NOTICED.

And I suppose your next question is "Why the heck for?"  And guess what?  We're blaming this on the drought too.

Surely you are aware by now, of the drought enveloping the midwest?  Jefferson is not immune to it's dis-charms.  We, along with many other communities measure rain by number of drops that fell.  The concept of inches of rain is a distant memory.

And that leads us to the story line of today's discussion.  The lawns in Jefferson, like so many other towns, probably should not be called lawns, in their current state.  Brown, white, and shades of gray just don't normally cut it when seeking to define the word "lawn".  But that's what we've got.  The resident lawn mower at the Cooper house has not run since May.  No need, you know.  Most other Jeffersonians are of the same mindset.  Because of that, an interesting phenomena is occurring.  Out along the edges of the "lawn" where things are not kept under quite as stringent control, rogue weeds are popping up.  Not a thick "stand" of course, just one here and there, every now and then.

Ironically, most of them are in the little median strip between the sidewalk and street.  So as passersby travel the street, well, there they are.  Little "blips on the screen" of too dry grass.  Wily deviants raising their heads when no one is paying any attention.

"Unnoticed" can happen in the studio, as well.  And normally "unnoticed" comes in the form of moments of slack. 

Like this:  You're at the easel working away, in fact you have been for a while, and you're tired.  It won't hurt to pull up a chair, will it?  Well, maaaybe...  If it becomes the new norm AND you start painting with your fingers instead of your arm AND if you don't stand up from said chair every so often to walk back and view progress from a distance...  The moment in the chair is not the bad habit waiting to develop, the rest of it is.

Or maybe that "rogue weed pattern" waiting to get you, is  the just not making it into the studio today.  Okay, fine.  No big deal.  Then all of a sudden you get to the end of the month, and realize you were out more than in.  The build up effect of bad habits creeping up on you - sheesh, not only do we have to create perfect works of art when we are in our studio, but we have to keep the bad habits out. 

I suppose that means they go hand in hand, like keep the bad habits out, so you can create the amazing work in. 

Off the radar screen.  Unnoticed.  Little bits of action that can turn into a bad habit for the studio.  But only if we let them.  And the good news is, we are in charge. 

Happy painting!

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa. 

 Arridian came to visit this week.  We went to the park.  While Arridian's mom was getting her exercise routine in, Arridian and I played on the jungle gym.  And let me tell you - for a three-year old, he has a lot of good advice to share.  Take this bit, for example:

"You have to go on the trail, and not go on the scratchy grass, cause the rattle snakes live there and they want to bite your leg"  "and al'gators like to bite your leg too"

Hunh.  Wisdom from a three-year old.  I wished Arridian had given me his good advice before the last summer art fair I went too. 

You know how artists tend to stand around in clusters before things get rolling on Sunday morning?  Sharing show gossip and all that?  I ran into a person that was doing way more than gossiping.  This artist was like a snake in the scratchy grass, and I should have stayed on the trail (from the artists break room back to my booth), instead of getting drawn into her conversation.

Did she have a good thing to say about anything?  NO!  One positive word about anything or anybody?  NO!  She even told me how terrible Ezups are, and how people who use them should be thrown out of the show.  They always crash into her tent, of course.  I discreetly mentioned mine's never crashed into anybody's, and I use it because I can put it up and take it down easily, by myself, with no assistance, assistance which I rarely have.  That didn't even slow her down.  I made an excuse about having work to do yet, and exited stage left. 

Whew!  Who needs stuff like that?  And just before it's "meet and greet patrons time"?  It took a major self-pep-talk to re-focus on the task at hand. 

At the end of the afternoon, and packing, as I was driving away from the show, my route took me past the street corner where her booth had been located.  I could see her still busy packing, and I wondered how her day had gone, how her patrons had fared?  Maybe she had unleashed all her negative words on me, so that her patrons got only good stuff.  I wonder.

But Arridian's good advice is firmly planted in my thoughts now.  Stay away from rattlesnakes in the scratchy grass, cause they want to bite your leg.  And they want to bite into your positive selling thoughts too.  Wisdom at three, to remember as you prep for your next summer art fair.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today, the subject is mud.

Yes, mud.  Not a very highly rated word, is it? Normally when we think about mud, it's in terms of it being stuck to the bottoms of our shoes, only to be tracked into the house.  Or think about the dog, that you so enjoyed the sight of playfully scampering through the yard, but now eagerly at your knee, possibly even jumping, in his desire for affection, on your very light colored pants, with his muddy paws? 

Ah, yes, mud.  Nobody wants it, right?  Wrong!  Have you missed the fact that an extremely large portion of the central United States is involved in a severe drought?  Central United States, aka, bread basket of the nation.  Now I know much of the population of the United States believes that what happens out on the farm really doesn't affect them.  (and I have a bridge I can sell you, as well)  After all, food comes from the grocery store-right?  Okay, here's a heads-up:  if the nation's corn crop is reduced by 1/3, your grocery bill will notice.  Last week, farmers near Springfield, Illinois were discing up the now dead corn crop, hoping on an outside chance that they'll get some rain and be able to grow a short season crop.  Farmers in Wayne, Nebraska are attempting to bale what's left of their corn crop - no corn on the stalk, but hopefully the leaf portion of the plant will appease some hungry cows.  Here are a couple of articles for further insight:

 article 1  and article 2

But here's my point:  when there's mud available in large quantity, not too many people are thrilled with it.  In fact, quite a few people will go out of their way to avoid it.  When it's in short supply, or in today's case, NON EXISTANT, everyone wants it.  People are praying for rain.  Praying for rain, that will make mud. 

"Now, how in blazes is she going to tie this into a painting blog?", you ask?

Simple.  Supply and demand.  When there's a whole bunch of it, nobody wants it.  When it's scarce, it's pretty darned desirable.

Keep that in mind, as you contemplate printing off images of your latest painting, 100 copies each of three different sizes.

And help pray for some rain, please.  Thanks.

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, soon to be temporarily transplanted to Geneva, Illinois.

Yes, there is another art fair on the immediate horizon.

Geneva Arts Fair, in the lovely burg of Geneva, Illinois. 

"A link?" you say?  But of course:  http://www.genevachamber.com/artfair.html

However, the brief info version is:

Geneva Arts Fair

S. Third Street, Geneva, Illinois, with the all important dates as:

July 28-29, 2012
and the hours being:

10AM thru 5PM each day

And because most blog posts these days are way too black and white, here's an image of a painting for you - On the easel, but getting close. 

A 12 x 12 canvas about a "reader" on the beach with shoes that barely qualify as beachwear.

No promises, but it should be ready to make it's debut at Geneva.  See you there!

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where we are recently home from Krasl Art Fair in St Joseph, Michigan.  A lovely event, to be sure.

Something happened there that made me remember this quote that I had put away for safe keeping:

"I paint life as I would like it to be." (Norman Rockwell)

I have a similar line posted at the top of my pro-panels:  "painting people enjoying life".

All of the above mentally came into play, along with a blog article, written by Jack White not so long ago.  That article included the idea that if we ask visitors of our art exhibits, any questions that can be answered with a yes or no, then we are losers, or something like that.  You may use just about any definition of loser you want to there, I think they all work in this case.

Anyway, a woman walked into my  booth at Krasl art fair.  Remembering Jack's wise words, I asked her what I could tell her about the paintings.  Never ask, "is there anything I can tell you about the paintings",  right??  Because that would make a yes or no answer suitable, and the conversation would end there, not helping anyone.

Anyway, this woman told me she did not want to talk about the paintings.  (hey,it wasn't a yes or no answer)  The next day, she called to make sure she hadn't offended me with her curt answer, but she had been busy listening to the paintings talk to her.  Hunh!  Now that's an excuse I can appreciate!

But, I wondered:  if I had been selling reproductions, would she have been equally captivated?

Thus end-eth the thought for the day.

Happy painting to you!

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where we are once again packing.  For an art show, that is.

Krasl Art Fair On The Bluff, to be specific.

This weekend, St Joseph, Michigan.  Yup, that's just around the corner of Lake Michigan from Chicago.  A lovely spot in the world, to be sure.

Dates:  Saturday July 14th and Sunday July 15th.

I am exhibitor #167, on the "bluff" side of the park.  Do stop in.

A new bicycle painting "The Bicycle Pages"  will make it's debut.  Now if I can just get a quick photo before it takes it's place in the trusty artmobile....

Later, Cooper