Businesses wanting to share in the process of showing art are finding out the method of locating and exhibiting good art is difficult, even in a town that has more than its share. The art of selling art has its challenges, such as, how will a buyer receive their piece without affecting the exhibit. Will there be an opening, if so, who sponsors it? How does the shop financially divide the proceeds? Selling art is not an easy venture, inclusive of, but not limited to, locating and managing artists, pricing, hanging, transporting, delivering, registering sales, and dividing profit. Still, the walls of the local coffee shops and eateries make fertile space for contemplation of work by emergent talent. Perhaps the caffeinated rush fuels a yearning to reflect intellectually. Visual art made available to contemplate provides a layer of intrigue.
The most disconcerting aspect of showing work outside the formal arena of the gallery is posting prices. My sister recently shared a story with me about visiting the home of an acquaintance who had prices of her artwork stuck on the wall next to the art displayed. Taken aback, her mental response was how tacky. Placing prices directly on the wall invites and gives impetuous to the pressure of a sales room, a connotation that the works primarily intent is for commercial consumption. It is an inhibitor, for rather than reading the contents of the work presented, a viewer may dismiss the work for sheer conflict in opinion of commercial worth. In the traditional gallery, the list of prices provided upon request, leaving the visitor to safely view from a subjective vantage point.
Value is certainly personal, imagine going into the National Gallery in Washington and being able to see how much each piece cost. Of course, some works to the museum might be quite low and some rather high. Works acquired a long time ago likely obtained at a much lower price than pieces more recently acquired by the museum. Pieces purchased yield a higher cost than those donated. What is expensive to me may be quite different for a descendant of the Waltons. Of course, the work in the National Gallery is not for sale, although in times of financial strain a museum may decide to sell pieces from their collection, as happened in Michigan last year.
In a profession where poverty holds historic acclaim, artists have not always been comfortable about the monetary worth of their own work. For example, Modigliani suffered for his difficulty to attaining a commercial connection between his work and the collector; such was not the case with Picasso. On the other hand, Monet was quite comfortable in the gain from the monetary value of his pieces. Savannah’s artists are impressively perceptive about the collectable value of the art they produce. This is largely the result of an educational institution placing commercial achievement high, the buying practices of a local tourist market, and a struggling economy. Successful shows here ranked by number of sales rather than by the readability of artistic intent. The truth is professional artists need to survive fiscally.
It is a win-win situation, Sulfur Art Services maintains a list of available artists; sales are managed with the artist, the venue, and Sulfur Art Services benefiting. The customer is a prime player, by acquiring a QR application and bringing art into their lives. Savannah residents are becoming aware of what fun it is to acquire works of art. Many are setting funds aside to acquire these precious pieces.
Sulfur Art Services, was designed to help connect businesses who want quality art with local working artists. We handle the curatorial aspect, installation and sales, allowing artists to focus on making and our locations to focus on their business.
Our unique art tags allow visitors to scan a code using their Smartphone to receive more information about the art and artist and even make a purchase right from their phone. Shipping options are available for out of town purchasers. Art can also be purchased from the Sulfur Art Services Website: www.sulfurstudios.com, or by calling us at 912-231-7105.
I continue on the theme Nature Nurtured with the work of Jeff Markowsky. In committing to immersion in the exhibition titled, Equalization, Markowsky's works are currently on view until September 28 at Gallery Espresso. This exhibition provides a panoramic vestige in the conversation of the relationship between man and nature.
The exhibition contains six large-scale images all in one point vanishing perspective. Each image shares in subject and method, and is a rarely seen vista of the Savannah landscape.
Known for his astute technique in portraiture, landscape, and still life, Markowsky provides us with an uninhibited view of the city making his subject the alley, or depending on where you are from, back lane. A study he has immersed himself for some time, this time choosing specifically to depict the space in large-scale format and from a single vantage point. He causes the viewer to contemplate the space from the sidewalk as if passing by. Stopping one in their tracks and inviting his audience to contemplate what occurs in the distance. These paintings have the ability to transform the spectator into a deep and private space, the painter exercises his ability to transport one through the back lanes. We feel as if we are traveling through them and there is simultaneity of public and private occurring in this body of images. We seem to be invited in, however, are stopped by the nature of the back way. Traditionally the back entrance of a home reserved for the servants, children, dog or cat. We enter our own homes from the rear, the front door reserved for privileged guests. In a city like Savannah, the back alley is the place for the dumpster and one finds septic tanks, or compost turners, rodents and trash. In Markowsky’s paintings, however there is a Hopper like quiet. As if coming upon the lane in the early morning hours when no one is around, we peek around walls and peer into crevices, into the silent lane. Utilizing a public perspective, the one point vantage allows us to see clear through to the other end. The artist envisions this private public duality stating, “…The lane is often an overlooked part of our neighborhoods and in fact, it is illegal to loiter there. Because foot traffic keeps generally to the streets, the lanes become fragments and broken visual sensations to passersby. My intention is to remind and bring significance to the beauty of an overlooked utilitarian aspect of our neighborhood and our city.”
Upon entering the space, in the first image the steeples of the church stand boldly in the distance reminiscent of religious influence on our city. The painting reminds us, if lawmakers and religious leaders are the only ones to tell the story of the people, how limited a history would be. Using a technique of taping the surface of the painting, Markowsky alters the center of attention creating an interesting interplay, a shifting focus of near and far. By using a single vanishing point and the consistency in the repetition of widths in gray, we view as if in the process of walking or riding by in or on a vehicle. At close view, shapes in the works minutely jumble in their complexity. Standing back the interaction of elements, color, light, shadow and depth of field, fuse to make each image coalesce.
When contemplating these works I encourage the audience to move beyond the busy atmosphere of the coffee shop. For, to stand in the middle of the installed exhibition is evidence of the need to move beyond the interior space. The alleys become portals to the outdoors they depict by making one keenly aware of Savannah’s domestic traffic just outside the window.
In the title and theme, Equalization, Jeff Markowsky invites us to slow down and reminds us of the reality of the city as nature. Equalization is prominent in the fusion of elements as image moves rapidly past; yet, slows down in the context of time and perspective, and finally, equalization in vantage points of near and far.
For more information about Jeff Markowsky’s exhibition:
Nature Nurtured an exhibition on display at the Whitaker Center brought together the work of professors from the Savannah College of Art in the Department of Foundations. With the exception of Maureen Garvin who serves in the capacity of Dean of the School of Foundation Studies. Each artist chose to depict and interact with nature in different ways making for a diverse and interesting exhibition.
In interpreting nature, Garvin is the most liberal, intentionally choosing distinctly symbolic references and using the necessity of vantage point. Garvin uses a bright discordant palette to identify a clearly symbolic narrative. In these works, the centrality of a house surrounded by invented vegetation, her works depict the guarded environment of the home. Surreally hearkening to the concept that home is truly, where safety is. With no clear entryway, the home, reminiscent of a monopoly house, is impenetrable. Seeking safety from invasion Garvin uses various voyeuristic vantage points. These richly colored, densely textured, and carefully framed pieces are like small vignettes from the outer limits.
In the entry foyer, quiet in descript, are the works of Adriana Burgos, a testimony to the reflective quality of nature. Made using a technique called silverpoint in which the artist uses a silver tipped instrument as a drawing utensil. Over time, the image tints because of the silver tarnishing. The use of silver point enhances the concept of the work. In, From the Fishing Dock, the viewer identifies a densely forested place from a distance another at close vantage we see just how dense the location really is. Burgos uses drawing as a journalistic method sharing her exploits in her drawing blog listed at the end of this post.
ettes from the outer limits.
Terry Moeller chooses to place her viewer in the midst of the scene. The viewer enveloped by nature’s forces and in full immersion, can experience nature from a centralized vantage point. These images have a foreboding as if painted indoors there seems to be an imminent storm in each. Working in the fashion of painters from the Realist period who drew their subject matter outdoors then brought the images inside to translate to the canvas. These painters were without the advent of the tube of paint, thus, going into nature to paint was impossible. Moeller combines color harmonically, in Carolina Yellow and Violet Forest color comprehension in the reading of violet balanced by the amount of light emanated by the yellow.
Stephen Gardner’s large format drawings portray a masterful technique of depicting careful contrasts. Subtractive and hard-edged, these drawing are by someone who has evidently mastered presentation. The narrative quality of Gardner drawings is evident here as he depicts a bush in, Fan Palm, in the way one would depict still life with direct lighting and dramatic shadow. What lends itself to narrative is the absence of the depth of field evident in outdoor landscape imagery. In the picture, Hen Pecked, Gardner shows an image of a hen next to a bush pecked clean at the bottom. By harvesting nature and repositioned, it is then revitalized by the artist to tell onlookers a tale of events.
The large geometrically segmented painting by Debra Malschik depicts and organically overlapped space, natural wildness. Nature in this painting is uncontrollable. Layered between geometric shapes the organic fauna overtakes man’s need to organize.
ere as he depicts a bush in, Fan Palm, in the way one would depict still life with direct lighting and dramatic shadow. What lends itself to narrative is the absence of the depth of field evident in outdoor landscape imagery. In the picture, Hen Pecked, Gardner shows an image of a hen next to a bush pecked clean at the bottom. By harvesting nature and repositioned, it is then revitalized by the artist to tell onlookers a tale of events.
Karen Davies photographs seem hidden in a rear corner space of the gallery; however, the location of the work enables the viewer the privacy to contemplate this imagery. One of the necessities of art for a culture is that Art provides the audience with the ability to remember to contend with emotion. Davies chooses to depict images of fading flowers, in these intimate works time passes before us. In one image Abelard and Heloise hues of violet and amber graze the surface of the image in a gently intertwine. The in descript flowers are depicted on a dark ground in extended format nature becomes comforter.
Jeff Markowsky's pieces in the show remind one that the challenge of depicting the landscape is also in becoming one with the subject matter. With works also on display at Gallery Espresso Markowsky's quiet presence is a force in the depiction of nature. Studies in this show depict the challenge of representing nature from life; by painting on site, Markowsky uses his vast knowledge of space by partaking in the amalgamation of it.
In Nurture Nature the elucidation is as a means for protection, a challenge in its depiction of the technical, a place for restoration, a means to capture fleeting time, a subject to harvest, a place for immersion, a way to recall and remember, a thing to control. It is a place where man becomes reconnected.
Recently, I visited the studio of Savannah artist Christina Edwards. Edwards will be donating proceeds of the sales of her art in an event titled Art in Action raising funds and awareness for the Rape Crisis Center of the Coastal Empire.
Born in Germany and moving to Savannah at a young age Edwards recalls the significance of the snow of Germany a drastic contrast to the warmth of Georgia. Though Edwards speaks fondly of her experiences, ambivalence to location is evident in the images referenced on the wall of the studio. These images contain rusted car hoods, peeling paint, concrete, textured imagery that translates into the layers of Edwards work. Edwards focus is on color, resultant texture, and composition.
Edwards also creates small paintings. These images, made by using the encaustic process, are linear paintings that capture cherished subject matter, such as birds, fruit, or flowers. Much like images held hostage in the recesses of our minds. In the small works Edwards continues with the dripped colors, sharing qualities of the Plexiglas used in Edwards larger works. The high quality of framing brings to mind the object of each small image.
By choosing to donate to the Rape Crisis Center, Edwards will be helping raise funds for a center that offers services to women who have experienced rape and or residuals of the crisis. Of the works sold by Christina Edwards from the Kobo Gallery on Saturday, September 11, 100 % will be donated to the center.
oil on canvas, 24 inches x 47 inches
Winner’s choice raffle online event 3 tickets for 20.00
Auction tickets are available:
Rape Crisis Center of the Coastal Empire
Contact Christina Edwards
Image taken Lake Mayer
Engaging art inspired by nature needs no previous understanding or training in artistic complexity. For nature holds the complex and basic qualities that art attempts to replicate. My current work is inspired by the organic the ability of forms in nature to regenerate, to expand, and revive themselves even in restricted environments. I believe Savannah is in is a renaissance of sorts, many are choosing to locate here and to stay poets, writers, artists, and musicians are relocating to the region and choosing to remain. In the need to thrive artists must engage a public with limited awareness of artistic worth or value.
Images of Mushrooms
When I moved to Savannah more than twenty years ago, I questioned the lack of museums and entertainment. I figured it was because Savannah was an outdoor town, as southern locations tended to be agricultural with a long growing season. Later I learned the effects of an economy deeply affected the culture of the region. Those effects result in limited educational exposure (especially to the arts), limited access to cultural institutions, and those with promise moving on to greener pastures. Access to the arts is a privilege reserved for those who are able to comprehend its purpose and message. A low economic status can be evident in available extracurricular activity, culture, education and the arts. Artists functioning as ambassadors to the culture may feel pressured to produce work that is easily digested and functional within the society.
Photograph Savannah City Hall
The beauty of Savannah is worth staying for attractiveness abounds. The warm climate lends itself to tropical flora and fauna. The flat landscape enables expansively layered vantage points throughout the city. The weather and storm patterns leave incredible cloud formations. The lack of tall buildings results in unencumbered vantage points for landscape painters; it is common to see someone snapping a picture of an incredible sunset. A beach is close, marshes abound, organic matter from magnolia to mushrooms abundant, and incredible wildlife especially birds flourish.
Being a part of nature is a gift it enables us to refuel and refresh. Of course, nature is a part of our creator’s intent. As simple as drinking water and eating foods that are as close to the origins of nature prove the connection to be healing.
Through my experiences with people I have came across more than a few panicked individuals believing their creative prosperity limited as idea generation is invaluable in the creative fields. The solution is to use nature as an unlimited resource. Artists since antiquity have relied on nature in virtually religious correspondence. The establishment of the Art Nouveau Movement based itself on the premise that nature was a prime resource. Nature’s organizations and functions still inspire artists of influence to this day.
In my next post, with these thoughts in mind I will be looking deeper into art works inspired by nature.
Pygmalion and Galatea, Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1824-1904,
Oil on canvas, 35 x 27
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, USA
In my previous blog, I discussed Jumping the Gun. This caused me to consider time in the studio prior to the work going to the exhibition and that dialogue occurring between the artist and the work made. The living breathing interaction between the creator and the work created. The subject of today’s blog will inevitably be of compromise for I lament in my decision to return to a job. I am reticent, as the dialogue in any studio requires dedication, patience, consistence, and due diligence which also requires time.
Dialogue is the relationship one creates with their own work, primarily when choosing a subject matter to pursue. In the myth of Pygmalion, the artist creates a sculpture so lifelike that she actually comes to life, because he has carved her with such gentle strength and grace, she did not look on him with contempt but shares in his compassion. The picture above is one of my favorite paintings, in this rendition, Gerome hides both the face of Galatea and that of Pygmalion and we intrude upon their private intimacy. The artist looses himself to that which he makes. In making art the artist does just this, we also refer to it as a birthing process. We transfer, all of our emotions to the success of the art at that moment. We communicated with the work, dialogue, to achieve a successful outcome. My work occurs over a long period, layers of time and paint go into the success of the work, yet the success in any given piece is also a result of its connection to the content. Artists use drawings, readings, physical and personal interactions, the past, politics, writing and many other methods to come up with ideas for the pieces they create. For some the dialogue is very personal, and some spend meticulous time and effort in communicating their idea in the artist statement, gallery talks, and interviews. The goal of dialoguing is to make that connection and have it communicate its message more readily. Artists we were created to be communicators, art is a visual language. What would history be, if the politicians and religious leaders were the only ones to report about the times at hand?
The artist begins this discourse by deciding what method will best show the content. There are a myriad of options out there, my chosen method, paint, oil to be specific. There is vividness to the color in oil. I believe oil can do anything if manipulated in the right way. I also like shallow space since I focus on the subject quite intensely. Therefore, my context of oil must encompass my content of showing restrictive space. I once asked a friend, “Why do you use clay? What is the relationship between clay and your subject?” Caught off guard the artist had not thought about it. This is truly a question meant for creators whose outcome is exhibition driven, as an exhibition places as its primary function, a direct communicator (the image) in front of the viewer. It is a discussion question, followed closely by, how does the process you use in your work relate to the content.
Since paint has been in use for hundreds of years, you might think using paint lets me off easy. I must ask myself how the applications of paint will correlate to my desired outcome. Currently, my subjects are gourd like shapes that also reference seedpods; though I am confronting capacity for expansion like skin, my chosen shapes carry an animated nature. Contextually, I can choose to paint it whimsically with a hard dark edge, loose and drippy or soft, or use a dry scumbled brush. Dialogue questions arise such as, do I desire a serious reading, a humorous overtone, or, do I wish to achieve a serious overtone with a bit of whimsy. These are all important questions. I engage in the process as to whether these decisions will compromise the reading of the work. Realistically, a dialogue can ensue regarding all of the elements and the principles of art.
Resolution as to choice of content (subject matter) and context (desired meaning) will be consistent in the body of work which for my work will consist of successive images. I have more content than one work can contain, making more images enables the audience to engage in the narrative. Whether related or not each body of work affects the next body, as art is also therapy and used to resolve personal issues regarding the content. Once that exchange of ideas is resolved and all the work made, the work then moves into another level of exchange, with the audience. This audience may include the critic whose job is to analyze if the dialogue is authentic an interpreter. If the artist has fully engaged in the dialoguing process, the critic can be of great assistance by revealing missed conversation. Think of the critic as someone fluent in the language and versed in the historical canon of the subject.
The outcome of a diligent process is rewarding and a successful show results in the audience discussing the meaning of the work, the process and the interaction of each piece with the others. Therefore, once released the work takes on a new dialoguing process one that engages the artist in an exchange now the artist must see if resolutions were successful. As the artist grows and his/her venues get wider, the dialogue evolves. The work then engages its audience through gallery talks, and interviews, the artists becomes more and more aware of the realities in the work and is able to comfortably move onto new work and into new dialogue.
Can an artist just make art without all this pretension? Sure, you can.
However, ignoring the precepts and pretensions on mere principle of making art for the sake of making art does not enable the artist to evolve. I once asked a student of mine, “Did we ruin art for you?” Meaning did coming to school for art take the fun out. His response, “you know, when I decided to be an artist it was fun, yet, once I received my first assignment it then became a challenge.” The dialogue is not about the artist existing in a vacuum like Pygmalion with his marble statue Galatea; it is about sharing by visually communicating.
In high school, I played badminton and I was great at smashing that little feathered birdie onto the opposite side of the net. Occasionally I would somehow over anticipate, my teammate would set up the smash, I would see the bird and BAM, but the birdie would just fall down in slow motion and land on my shoulder. I had rushed the birdie, jumped the gun. How often do we act too soon, get in the game before we are ready.
I am writing this because I am doing just this in my studio, at least I feel like I am. Since this blog is about learning, teaching and sharing, here is my experience:
In the book Hold Still, Sally Mann shares an excellent recommendation she says to be in the new body of work before sharing the current work (Mann p. 169). In the last years of undergraduate school painting majors build what is referred to as a body of work, which contains about 6 to 20 pieces that are alike in theme, and preferably appearance, The idea is that these pieces when shown together will communicate a concept like chapters in a book. To accomplish this we were, cheered on by our peers, coached by our mentors, guided by our advisors, encouraged, and sometimes prodded by our teachers. This is what is so difficult about being a “serious” artist. The challenge, not only to make the body of work, but fit it into the cannon of art history, use relevant painting technique, then defend it. Once an artist has mastered this; earned the degree and moved into the career of the arts, it then is done again, and, again, and again; body of work after body of work after bodies and bodies of work.
The hard thing is falling in love with the first individual piece, or the third, even the sixth and sharing it with the world. We fall in love introduce the piece then realize it really is not as good as was thought or does not go with the others. I can make all types of paintings landscapes, figurative, realistic, abstract, wet into wet, and I know very well the fat over lean mantra. I love performing all these tasks in the studio. After taking two years away from the studio to pursue a second Masters Degree I returned to find, I am back to the drawing board. It feels like being back in art school again, trial and error. My studies are spot on but the translation to painting questionable and I am jumping the gun, so excited about new work I begin to enter shows, post images; even invite curators into the studio. The work, or, should I say my relationship with the work is not solid enough yet, and I am well aware of it.
All artists jump the gun; get excited about the newest piece and fall in love with the prospect of what the audience will feel once they see it. The relationship not solidified, the problem, the artist had not dialogued enough through the process of making the work.
The resolution is to build a relationship with the work and desired outcome so clear and intentional developments can come about. Then, writing the artist statement is easier and talking about the work is clearer. Get to know your own work, write down notes, make studies, and share it with intimate friends who are willing to assist in the relationship building process. Relating to one’s own pieces is a summation of connections. Made by the choice of the finished look of the work, the subject matter and the process whereby it came about.
Slow and steady wins the race. I have been painting for more than two decades; opportunities have arisen more than once, even when I burned the bridge or blew it. I’ve gotten surer about my process, I am better at making a body of work and conceptualizing. I make a lot of work, some good, some not so good, some cohesive and some not. The truth is what has a lasting effect is often not the just the work itself, but the feeling and connections that came while and from making it. I plan to be in the Arts for the rest of my life, sharing strong bodies of work, building relationships and earning respect. The truth is I will always get excited about new work and I will probably jump the gun again.
Image retrieved from August 22, 2016: http://rp-prod-wordpress-b-content.s3.amazonaws.com/assets/2013/06/05131818/salon-style-art.jpg
My older sister had the most beautiful clothes, no holes, no spots, smears or stains, and above all a wide array of tints, tones, and shades unlike my meager set of worn out black outfits. At times she’d allow me to wear a piece. Occasionally I’d sneak into her drawers and make something my own for the day. I did my best not to perform any activity that would give away the fact that I borrowed the item without asking. Without fail I did something to get myself caught, a stain, a tear, leaving it on the floor, not folding it exactly the way it was when I took it, once I even melted her brand new silk top ironing it. My sister always scorned and scolded me when she found out and if we were out of the house she told me to take it off right then. The comment I remember best however was “you get paint on everything you own.”
There is something about being an artist that reeks of grunge. Frankly, I stay dirty. Even though I try to stay clean by maintaining separate sets of clothes; for work, for church, for going to the gym, and studio clothes. However I never fail to get paint on any and everything, even my bed sheets.
During performances, when my daughter was studying dance, the children were cautioned not to be seen in their costumes before the show, it would ruin the magic. This made me think about the magic of the studio. My work space which is in the back of my home is a beautiful, large space with cathedral ceilings, a large storage closet and a bathroom. It is where I make hard work look easy, where mistakes unfurl into process. It is where the magic happens. I’ve got lots of paper, old work, tons of books, and enough tools and materials to open a store. It is where I practice for the final performance. For the artist it is the exhibition in the clean gallery, with reading space between imagery and white walls that allow for intended color reading.
Experiencing other artists resolved work in white space is similar to how I felt while wearing the beautiful outfits that belonged to my older sister. After spending weeks in my studio producing, I look forward to entering clean spaces and enjoying readable, content rich art work. White space with focused light helps the readability of color, space, line, value and composition, specifically when work is in resolution status. It enables the viewer to renew and refresh. Finished work needs to be honored in an environment that lends itself to the finality that the hard work of practice deserves.
Today, I am going to talk about Sally Mann’s book Hold Still: A Memoir with Photographs. This book won a National Book Award, which is not surprising because it is well written and honest. I learned a lot from reading about Mann and her connection to her work. It is a must read for artists not just because of the importance of Mann in the canon of art photography, but because when an artist shares that much about her life with the public, artist should be the first in line to receive it.
I do have a concern about the work and life of Sally Mann: never does she mention a spiritual connection and in reading I garnered a deep disquiet about the author. Her work focuses on darkness in a very unsettling way. Erie and phantasmal, Mann is a master of photographic technique; the photos resonate by confronting our inner fears of death and the unknown. We like to consider children as innocent angelic cherubs, yet we know by portrayals of children like, Lord of the Flies, that this isn’t always true. Mann’s photos of children and landscape speak to the temporary qualities of a lived life.
Photographers inevitably are concerned with light and darkness it is part of the process and shows in the result of the work. Mann’s portraits of children and even the landscapes lean toward spiritual darkness but still exist between darkness and light perhaps as a result of the subject matter. Toward the end of the book Mann moves very close to the darkness, as a deeply spiritual individual I felt heaviness and became very disheartened at the end of the book. The final series focusing on death bore an unemotional finality. This is a commanding text, it’s dense and intensely personal, well written, however, it is not be read passively; definitely not for the prudish.
The Last Painting of Sara De Vos by Dominic Smith is a fictional tale about the theft of a painting. Gliding between present and past, Smith weaves his tale around the painter and his aging owner, and the curator who intimately encounters both. The highly structured descriptions in the book are reminiscent of books like 100 Years of Solitude. Smith makes the tale of romance, detective work and curatorial work intriguing for his audience. Though at times a tad tedious, Smith weaves his reader into the history of the Dutch painting and shares with his reader the intimate privilege of owning a piece of the past.
From the stand point of a painter, it was nice to read a book that admittedly depicts the privileged few interested in Dutch female painters. In this book and in life, the link between good painting, good technique and commitment create a continuum which is what, as artists, we are all looking for.