Saturday, June 8, 2019

Entry - 6.8.19


“Works of art often last forever, or nearly so.  But exhibitions themselves, especially gallery exhibitions, are like flowers; they bloom and then they die, then exist only as memories, or pressed in magazines and books.”
-          Jerry Saltz


So my wife and I took down my art show on June 2nd, and I believe that a brief follow-up to my last entry addressing my then impending exhibit is warranted.  I show only very rarely, so the experience is anything but routine for me.  It certainly makes sense at this time to document the work shown and offer a few observations.

As I stated in my last entry, I’ve been attending weekly life drawing sessions at the Unison Arts Center in New Paltz for over a year and really enjoy the atmosphere there.  The sessions are informal, friendly and relaxed, and the vast majority of participating artists are quite talented.  Their gallery space is intimate but sizeable enough to permit the display of a significant selection of work.  Since the life drawing sessions are held in the gallery space, I saw a good number of exhibits come and go and eventually began to entertain the idea of showing there myself in the future.  I conferred with the individual who oversees the drawing sessions, and, though positively inclined, he advised me that I would have to put forward a proposal to the organization’s management team.  As is my norm, I then lost steam and months passed.  Eventually (I really can’t explain why) I decided to move on this inclination.  I gathered together a sampling of digital photos of my work, updated my resume, wrote a succinct proposal laying out my intentions for an exhibit and submitted them for consideration.  To my surprise, I received a quick reply and was slated to show in the near future.

Originally, I intended to exhibit only my oil paintings but, as a concession to Unison, agreed to include a selection of works on paper – which offered the slim possibility of generating sales.  So in the weeks before the show, I was reprinting linocuts, purchasing frames and having mats prepared professionally.  I began surveying my work to determine which paintings and prints would be included in the exhibit.  I dusted off the paintings and thoroughly cleaned up a good number of existing prints that could be displayed as already framed - often many years ago.   I prepared a list of works for Unison which should have been an effortless job except I realized a little late that, while my paintings were thoroughly documented, the prints were not.  Dating the prints and determining their dimensions after they were already out of my possession proved a daunting undertaking.  I found a nearby rental location and reserved a truck in which to transport the work.  And finally I put together the obligatory Artist’s Statement, a document in which the artist, hopelessly, attempts in an extremely abbreviated format to explain what his work is all about.  Any regular reader of this blog should know that I’m anything but concise.  Of course, I wrote an unusable long and wordy statement that I include below:

             For many years now, I have primarily explored within my multi-figure compositions what I call “charged moments”.  These charged moments arise when something critical might occur - when the ordinary course of daily activity might be disrupted, resulting in commotion and upheaval.  The potential for disruption is suggested only; it is equally possible that nothing significant is at play – that if I chose to present the same scene just a few seconds later these activities might be concluded customarily, leaving the depicted players unscathed and impassive.

             Even when painting a portrait, a nude, a landscape or still-life, I try to defy conventions, to present my subject in a way that will not satisfy a viewer’s expectations, imparting a vague feeling of frustration or distress.  Usually this dissonance is somewhat subtle.

 It is my belief that this approach to subject matter offers my audience immediate access to my imagery and encourages, as well, a more engaged exploration of the themes that I address – hopefully promoting within the viewer a personal dialogue extending beyond the scope of anything I could have imagined.  Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, my imagery reflects my worldview.  While it seems to me that today, more so than I can ever recall, people are compelled to interpret individuals and actions in strokes of black and white, I see only shades of gray.  I maintain an inherent suspicion of absolutes and an impatience with all dogmas.  Duality, ambiguity and contradiction intrigue me greatly as phenomena of contemporary existence.

After reviewing my statement, Unison returned a thoroughly pared-down version of it for my consideration.  The words were still mine, but now the statement favored heavily the “what” I was doing and ignored the “why” I was doing it.  Nothing irritates me more than when an artist describes his or her process as resulting from nothing more substantial than a whim.  (“I wanted to paint a green painting, so I did.” or “I had a lot of bottle caps lying around and thought wouldn’t it be cool to construct a landscape out of them.”)  If the artist cannot provide an explanation of motivation and purpose, it’s usually indicative that he or she is just treading water.  So I took another shot at the statement, trying to retain its original substance while doing so in much fewer words.  My attempt left Unison still dissatisfied, and now they returned to me a new statement written in the third person that was almost comically meaningless.  At that point, I implored them to use their original edited version which they graciously agreed to do.  Another hurdle surmounted!

Hanging the show was unexpectedly challenging.  I won’t go into detail but will just say that all of the strife and commotion endured that day was totally unnecessary and a bit outlandish.  With my wife’s and son’s assistance, I successfully installed the exhibition without suffering any casualties and felt that, once on the wall, my work would be secure until it was time to be removed.

Hanging Day
Beside the request that I include some prints and paintings on paper, Unison gave me free rein to determine what works I would include in the show, and I feel confident that I ended up with an extremely solid and representative sampling of my oeuvre – probably the best I’ve ever put together.  The show consisted of twelve oil paintings, ten prints and two gouache paintings.  I believe the exhibit benefited from the inclusion of the works on paper.  They added some diversity to the show and permitted me for the first time to display a sizeable array of the linocuts and woodcuts that I’ve generated intermittently over the last few decades.  Printing is a process that I have explored seriously, but the prints always seemed to play second fiddle to the oil paintings and never got shown.  It was very rewarding to see them on display together, holding their own, in my opinion, to the more ostentatious work.  The show was called “A Matter of Time”, alluding to how my paintings often capture an isolated instant of activity when the imminent potential for substantive change exists.  It was only after selecting the name that I recognized that it had a second meaning in that this show included work produced over a long period of time.  Many years of working fulltime and commuting into NYC on a daily basis had restricted the number of hours I could devote to my artwork and certainly reduced my output.  To put together enough work to fill Unison’s gallery space meant gleaning paintings and prints from decades of production; the oil paintings were generated between 1996 and 2018, and the earliest print included was completed in 1986.  The vast majority of the images documented the people and places that defined my life at these times.  This exhibition truly represented the results of “a matter of time”.








Personally, I dreaded most the opening celebration.  I was concerned that there might be some ceremony involved and I might be required to make a speech.  I abhor ceremony, not just because I’m less than an exhibitionist but because ceremony reeks of the artificial and the moribund.  In spite of my reservations, just in case, I had a vague oration constructed in my brain that I hoped would never be put to use.  My fears were completely unfounded.  Unison generously provided their space and an assortment of provisions for the opening without imposing expectations or restrictions of any kind.  The event, which beforehand I thought of as something that would have to be endured, proved in reality to be extremely enjoyable and rewarding.  A sizeable crowd assembled in the gallery space over the opening’s two hour duration.  Of course, my wife and children attended, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that all of my siblings, their spouses and many of their children came – a rare gathering that only seems to happen these days for weddings and funerals.  Many representatives of the local home schooling community were there.  My sister-in-law and brother-in-law heavily promoted the show with their book club, and my boys coerced their workmates to attend.  A few old friends were there as well as a selection of Unison members who proved to be both very receptive to my work and knowledgeable about art in general.

That's me among my paintings.

The opening crowd conservatively estimated to be ten thousand.


New Hamburg Reading Society

New Hamburg Reading Society

The Spirits and Cheeses Crew

Great to see a few old friends I hadn't gotten together with in years.


Many of the individuals who modeled for the artwork were able to attend.

The opening flew by, and I savored a brief moment of feeling relevant.  I appreciated greatly the show of support from friends and family.  It’s not easy to haul oneself off to a Sunday evening art show – especially when an episode of the final season of Game of Thrones is scheduled to air that same night.


So with the hanging of the show and the opening out of the way, I could relax, put my feet up and relish the thought that my work was currently on display.  Well, not quite.

One of the benefits of showing at Unison is that the location is used for Dance, Tai Chi and Qigong classes, Writing Workshops and Life Drawing Sessions during the week and concerts and other performances on weekends.  This means that throughout the duration of the show, a regular stream of educated folk with an interest in the arts will see your work.  This is certainly not the norm for most smaller venues.

The downside soon became apparent. As a promotional tool, Unison shares snippets of their weekend performances on social media, and my wife and I were shocked to see on facebook the first weekend the show was up a long line of singers squeezed onto their undersized portable stage, the gyrating posterior of one singer apparently lapping regularly against one of my paintings.  We were aghast, but hopefully it was a onetime occurrence.  Not quite.  In the weeks ahead, usually just before going to bed, my wife would be making a final tour of sites on her tablet and she’d let out a gasp.  I’d turn to her quickly.  “Oh no!  What are they doing now?”  She’d reluctantly turn the screen of her tablet to me to reveal some new outrage that would leave me hours later lying in bed wide-eyed and anxious.  During the exhibit, we witnessed drum kits positioned immediately before paintings, upright bass players strumming away contentedly oblivious to the artwork inches away and flamenco dancers strutting about energetically amidst the exhibit.  Though we were spared the visuals, a high school chamber orchestra was somehow wedged into the space, a movie screen for a student film festival was installed above the paintings and a fundraiser dinner was hosted at the location.  I was just waiting to hear that a Beijing acrobatic troupe would be performing there or maybe a Liverpool dart throwing competition would be held in the space.  As it were, at every Saturday life drawing session I attended, I began by repositioning many of my paintings and prints that had evidently been jostled about since my last visit and would painfully endure watching one participant in the sessions splashing away in oil paints, her easel abutting one of my canvases.  Obviously exhibiting at Unison was not for the faint of heart.

On the other hand, a very positive event occurred along with this show.  Ever since relocating out of NYC about twenty five years ago, I have been impressed with a local magazine, Chronogram, which is dedicated to promoting the cultural life of the Hudson Valley.  In particular, I’ve enjoyed the high quality reproductions of remarkable artwork featured on the cover and within the pages of the magazine.  Very early on, I determined, somewhat irrationally, that one day my own work would be represented there.  Seven years ago when showing at another location, I presented a selection of images to the magazine; but though we had several productive communications, we were unable to successfully arrange to have my work included in the publication concurrent with the exhibit.  With this go-round we achieved better results, and in Chronogram’s May edition, my painting, Aloft, was featured on the magazine “parting shot” page.

Chronogram - May 2019

Parting Shot

I had a few email communications and one long phone interview with Chronogram’s Shrien Alshabasy during which I rambled on incoherently about my life and artwork.  Somehow from that she managed to put together a concise and elegant article.  If you would like to read her piece, I include a link below:


Finally, it’s important that I make clear that it is not my intention to disparage Unison.  I still consider the organization to be an essential and successful promoter of art, music, dance, film and performance in the Hudson Valley and hope to maintain a rewarding relationship with them for many years to come.  And I certainly appreciate all of the time and effort the Unison staff contributed to make this show a possibility.  For all my travails, I would have to say that the experience of exhibiting there was an overall positive one.  But I also recognize that as a neurotic, exacting, overprotective artist it would probably be best for me in the future to only exhibit in locations specifically dedicated to solely displaying artwork.

Special thanks to my wife and children for their help in transporting, installing and taking down the show and preparing for the opening.   


As always, I encourage readers to comment here.  If you would prefer to comment privately, you can email me at gerardwickham@gmail.com.