Yesterday, talking to my artist friend Kate, I was downcast about (once again) being rejected from The Art League show at the Torpedo Factory.
Strangely enough - and this seems somehow the reverse of what it should be - I am never too upset about being rejected when the show is really good. And this one is. This October show, focusing on color, is very, very good. Only a very few pieces in it that I would not have chosen myself.
However! There were very few large paintings (meaning oil and acrylic). And of the works chosen, not a one demonstrated an extravagance of gesture, a certain wildness of expression. Even the abstracts were polished, refined. Very good, but very controlled and finished looking.
Well, if you've followed any of my work, you know not one of those adjectives could be applied to my paintings. My work is spontaneous, unplanned, wild and as crazy as I can make it (okay, I admit that's not so very crazy, but I do what I can!).
So, talking to Kate, whose work is well-planned and usually very precisely painted, we noted that our respective styles of painting reflected our respective personalities.
This doesn't mean that we don't appreciate other styles, just that they do not speak for us.
And that links back to my insistence that a painter or artist must like her work. That is the measure that must count the most!
Herewith, 'River' and 'Riverbank':
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